If 'tis true, as you say, that I've injured a letter,
I'll change my note soon and I hope for the better;
May the just rights of letters, as well as of men;
Hereafter be fixed by the tongue and the pen;
Most devoutly I wish that they both have their due,
And that I may be never mistaken for U .

This is my creed in face of cynic sneer,
The cavilling doubt, the pessimistic fear; —
We come from some far greatness, and we go
Back to a greatness, spite of all our woe.

You ask, fair maiden, for one line, but I must give you three,
For a couplet at the least, for the rhyme's sake, there must be,
And a Triplet for your name's sake therefore take from,

Who hopes that thus, hereafter, whate'er your wishes be,
Thrice more and better than you ask may be given unto thee!

Lord whose eyes every heart in existence survey,
Who canst regulate all with thy merciful sway,
From mine may thy grace, as a guardian, discard
Whatever might render it — selfish and hard:
O keep it from evil propensities free,
Ever mild to mankind, ever grateful to Thee:
This heart ever feels, with thy image imprest,
The more it is Christian — the more it is blest!

Oh, believe I wish you well
But I will not haunt you,
Lie awake devising spell
Or potion to enchant you.
Since I know that charms divine
Cannot move or daunt you,
Go your way and I'll go mine.
Leave me peaceful — can't you?

The idle wind blows all the day.
I wish it blew my care away
The idle wind blows all day long
And weaves a burden to my song
Upon the melancholy flight
Of youth and beauty and delight.
The idle wind blows all the day
I wish it blew my care away.

Not till we grow down to dung,
each effort of body and spirit
manure for the next generation,
can God say, " Man, you have sung."

Tiny boy,
staring at me
with eyes like toy balloons:
That broom
is much bigger than you.
Put it down.
You won't?
Then don't put it down.

After we've had
our age of gold
and sung our song of brass,
fingers will brush
the age aside,
fingers and leaves

Foremost of all on battle's fiery steep
Here V ERTUE fell, and here he sleeps his sleep.
A fairer name no Roman ever gave
To stand sole monument on Valour's grave.