Four ducks on a pond,

That’s like a heart with nothing to conceal;The young leaves scarcely trembling; the blue-greyRimming the cloudless ether far away;Brairds, hedges, shadows; mountains that revealSoft sapphire; this great floor of polished steelSpread out amidst the landmarks of the bay.I stoop in sunshine to our circling netFrom the black gunwale; tend these milky kineUp their rough path;…

Under the dewy green leaveswent he forth to pray.The lake around his islandlay smooth and dark and deep,And wrapt in a misty stillnessthe mountains were all asleep.Low kneel’d the Abbot Cormacwhen the dawn was dim and gray;The prayers of his holy officehe faithfully ‘gan say.Low kneel’d the Abbot Cormacwhile the dawn was waxing red;And for…

Dearer twenty-thousand-foldThan gold, is Amy Margaret.‘Amy’ is friend, is ‘Margaret’The pearl for crown or carkanet?Or peeping daisy, summer’s pet?Which are you, Amy Margaret?A friend, a daisy, and a pearl,A kindly, simple, precious girl, —Such, howsoe’er the world may twirl,Be ever, — Amy Margaret!

The shallow tide-wave courses to the land,And all along the down a fringe one seesOf ducal woods. That ‘dim discovered spire’Is Chichester, where Collins felt a fireTouch his sad lips; thatched Felpham roofs are these,Where happy Blake found heaven more close at hand.Goodwood and Arundel possess their lords,Successive in the towers and groves, which stay;These…

A straight white curtain at the head,And two smooth knobs below.I thought I saw the nursery fire,And in a chair well-knownMy mother sat, and did not tireWith reading all alone.If I should make the slightest soundTo show that I’m awake,She’d rise, and lap the blankets round,My pillow softly shake;Kiss me, and turn my face to…

The garden smiling faintly,Cool breezes in the sun;Our Thrushes now are silent,Our Swallows flown away, —But Robin’s here, in coat of brown,With ruddy breast-knot gay.Robin, Robin Redbreast,O Robin dear!Robin singing sweetlyIn the falling of the year.Bright yellow, red, and orange,The leaves come down in hosts;The trees are Indian Princes,But soon they’ll turn to Ghosts;The scanty…

But brown or fair, one girl most rare,The Flow’r o’ Belashanny, O.As straight is she as poplar-tree(Tho’ not as aisy shaken, O,)And walks so proud among the crowd,For queen she might be taken, O.From top to toe, where’er you go,The loveliest girl of any, O,-Ochone! your mind I find unkind,Sweet Kate o’ Belashanny, O!One summer…

Bare meadow, and the slowly falling leaf.The dignity of woods in rich decayAccords full well with this majestic griefThat clothes our solemn purple hills to-day,Whose afternoon is hush’d, and wintry briefOnly a robin sings from any spray.And night sends up her pale cold moon, and spillsWhite mist around the hollows of the hills,Phantoms of firth…

And primrose in its purfled green swathed up,Pallid and sweet round every budding thorn,Gray ash, and beech with rusty leaves outworn.Here, too the darting linnet hath her nestIn the blue-lustred holly, never shorn,Whose partner cheers her little brooding breast,Piping from some near bough. O simple song!O cistern deep of that harmonious rillet,And these fair juicy…

Neither soft n’or grand,Barren, bleak, and wide;Nothing look’d with love;All was dingy brown;The very skies aboveSeem’d to sulk and frown.Plodding sick and sad,Weary day on day;Searching, never glad,Many a miry way;Poor existence lagg’dIn this barren place;While the seasons dragg’dSlowly o’er its face.Spring, to sky and ground,Came before I guess’d;Then one day I foundA valley, like…

A blue sky of spring,White clouds on the wing;What a little thingTo remember for years-To remember with tears!

Faintest breeze will fan itFar or near;World as light as feather;Moonshine rays,Rainbow tints together,As it plays.Drooping, sinking, failing,Nigh to earth,Mounting, whirling, sailing,Full of mirth;Life there, welling, flowing,Waving round;Pictures coming, going,Without sound.Quick now, be this airyGlobe repelled!Never can the fairyStar be held.Touched–it in a twinkleDisappears!Leaving but a sprinkle,As of tears.