There is but one May in the year, And sometimes May is wet and cold… There is but one May in the year Before the year grows old. Yet though it be the chilliest Ma…
A motherless soft lambkin Along upon a hill; No mother’s fleece to shelter him And wrap him from the cold: — I’ll run to him and comfort him,
I wonder if the sap is stirring ye… If wintry birds are dreaming of a… If frozen snowdrops feel as yet th… And crocus fires are kindling one… Sing, robin, sing;
Come to me in the silence of the n… Come in the speaking silence of a… Come with soft rounded cheeks and… As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears,
What would I give for a heart of… Instead of this heart of stone ice… Hard and cold and small, of all he… What would I give for words, if o… But now in its misery my spirit ha…
O Christ, the Vine with living F… The twelvefold—fruited Tree of Li… The Balm in Gilead after strife, The valley Lily and the Rose; Stronger than Lebanon, Thou Root…
I looked for that which is not, no… And hope deferred made my heart si… But years must pass before a hope… Is resigned utterly. I watched and waited with a steadf…
“Sweet, thou art pale.” “More pale to see, Christ hung upon the cruel tree And bore His Father’s wrath for m… “Sweet, thou art sad.”
A pin has a head, but has no hair; A clock has a face, but no mouth t… Needles have eyes, but they cannot… A fly has a trunk without lock or… A timepiece may lose, but cannot w…
Am I a stone and not a sheep That I can stand, O Christ, bene… To number drop by drop Thy Blood’… And yet not weep? Not so those women loved
I have a Poll parrot, And Poll is my doll, And my nurse is Polly, And my sister Poll. ‘Polly!’ cried Polly,
If the sun could tell us half That he hears and sees, Sometimes he would make us laugh, Sometimes make us cry: Think of all the birds that make
I dug and dug amongst the snow, And thought the flowers would neve… I dug and dug amongst the sand, And still no green thing came to h… Melt, O snow! the warm winds blow
I wish I could remember the first… First hour, first moment of your m… If bright or dim the season, it mi… Summer or winter for aught I can… So unrecorded did it slip away,
As eager homebound traveller to th… Or steadfast seeker on an unsearch… Or martyr panting for an aureole, My fellow—pilgrims pass me, and at… That hidden mansion of perpetual p…