I rake no coffined clay, nor publish wide The resurrection of departed pride. Safe in their ancient crannies, dark and deep, Let kin...

Thanks to the morning light, Thanks to the seething sea, To the uplands of New Hampshire, To the green-haired forest free; Thanks ...

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air ...

On being asked, Whence is the flower? In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, Spread...

I like a church; I like a cowl; I love a prophet of the soul; and on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains, or pensive sm...

When I was born, From all the seas of strength Fate filled a chalice, Saying, This be thy portion, child; this chalice, Less than a ...

I love thy music, mellow bell, I love thine iron chime, To life or death, to heaven or hell, Which calls the sons of Time.

Think me not unkind and rude, That I walk alone in grove and glen; I go to the god of the wood To fetch his word to men.

Your picture smiles as first it smiled, The ring you gave is still the same, Your letter tells, O changing child, No tidings since i...

The Sphynx is drowsy, Her wings are furled, Her ear is heavy, She broods on the world.— "Who'll tell me my secret The a...

Mine are the night and morning, The pits of air, the gulf of space, The sportive sun, the gibbous moon, The innumerable days. 

Who gave thee, O Beauty! The keys of this breast, Too credulous lover Of blest and unblest? Say when in lapsed ages Thee knew I ...

DEEP in the man sits fast his fate To mould his fortunes, mean or great: Unknown to Cromwell as to me Was Cromwell's measure or ...

Man was made of social earth, Child and brother from his birth; Tethered by a liquid cord Of blood through veins of kindred poured, ...

Knows he who tills this lonely field To reap its scanty corn, What mystic fruit his acres yield At midnight and at morn?

Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diad...

By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fire...

Why should I keep holiday, When other men have none? Why but because when these are gay, I sit and mourn alone.

Higher far, Upward, into the pure realm, Over sun or star, Over the flickering Dæmon film, Thou must mount for love,— Into visio...

Give me truths, For I am weary of the surfaces, And die of inanition. If I knew Only the herbs and simples of the wood, Rue, cinqu...