This, this is what I love, and what is this?
I ask'd the beautiful earth, who said—‘not I.’
I ask'd the depths, and the immaculate sky
And all the spaces said—‘not He but His.’
And so, like one who scales a precipice,
Height after height, I scaled the flaming ball
Of the great universe, yea, pass'd o'er all
The world of thought, which so much higher is.
Then I exclaimed, ‘To whom is mute all murmur
Of phantasy, of nature, and of art,
He, than articulate language bears a firmer
And grander meaning in his own deep heart.

Go , Rose, and in her golden hair
You shall forget the garden soon;
The sunshine is a captive there
And crowns her with a constant noon.

And when your spicy odor goes,
And fades the beauty of your bloom,
Think what a lovely hand, O Rose,
Shall place your body in the tomb!

GOOD-BY : nay, do not grieve that it is over—
The perfect hour;
That the winged joy, sweet honey-loving rover,
Flits from the flower.

Grieve not,—it is the law. Love will be flying—
Yea, love and all.
Glad was the living; blessed be the dying!
Let the leaves fall.

Deep in your heart understand
the love of a man for a man;
He'll go with you over the trail,
the trail that is lonesome and long;
His hith will not falter nor fail,
nor falter the lilt of his song.
He knows both your soul and your sins,
and does not too carefully scan,—
The Highway to Heaven begins
with the love of a man for a man.

The lofty worth and lovely excellence
Dear lady, that thou hast,
Hold me consuming in the fire of love:
That I am much afeared and wildered thence,
As who, being meanly plac'd,
Would win unto some height he dreameth of
Yet, if it be decreed,
After the multiplying of vain thought,
By Fortune's favour he at last is brought
To his far hope, the mighty bliss indeed.

Thus, in considering thy loveliness,
Love maketh me afear'd,—
So high art thou, joyful, and full of good;—
And all the more, thy scorn being never less.

Each shining light above us
Has its own peculiar grace;
But every light of heaven
Is in my darling's face.

For it is like the sunlight,
So strong and pure and warm,
That folds all good and happy things,
And guards from gloom and harm.

And it is like the moonlight,
So holy and so calm;
The rapt peace of a summer night,
When soft winds die in balm.

And it is like the starlight;
For, love her as I may,
She dwells still lofty and serene
In mystery far away.

Down the dripping pathway dancing through the rain,
Brown eyes of beauty, laugh to me again!

Eyes full of starlight, moist over fire,
Full of young wonder, touch my desire!

O like a brown bird, like a bird's flight,
Run through the rain drops lithely and light.

Body like a gypsy, like a wild queen,
Slim brown dress to slip through the green—

The little leaves hold you as soft as a child,
The little path loves you, the path that runs wild.

Who would not love you, seeing you move,
Warm-eyed and beautiful through the green grove?

Consider this small dust, here in the glass,
By atoms moved:
Could you believe that this the body was
Of one that loved;
And in his mistress' flame playing like a fly,
Was turned to cinders by her eye:
Yes; and in death, as life unblessed,
To have it expressed,
Even ashes of lovers find no rest.

On Udo Beach,
on Udo Beach in Suruga, waves roll in and break;
my love like seven grasses says things that please me,
says things that please me;
my love like seven grasses says things that please me;
when she comes to me, yes, we'll go to bed!
my love like seven grasses says things that please me!

‘O saw ye my father? or saw ye my mother?
Or saw ye my true-love John?’
‘I saw not your father, I saw not your mother,
But I saw your true-love John.

‘It 's now ten at night, and the stars gie nae light,
And the bells they ring ding, dang;
He 's met wi some delay that causeth him to stay,
But he will be here ere lang.’

The surly auld carl did naething but snarl,
And Johny's face it grew red;
Yet, tho he often sighd, he neer a word replied
Till all were asleep in bed.

Up Johny rose, and to the door he goes,
And gently tirlëd the pin;