Myth and Romance

Genius Loci

The Rain-Crow

The Harvest Moon

The Old Water-Mill

Anthem of Dawn

Dithyrambics

Hymn to Desire

Music

Jotunheim

Dionysia

The Last Song

Romaunt of the Oak

Morgan le Fay

The Dream of Roderick

Zyps of Zirl

The Glowworm

Ghosts

The Purple Valleys

The Land of Illusion

Spirit of Dreams

LINES AND LYRICS

To a Wind-Flower

Microcosm

Fortune

Death

The Soul

Conscience

Youth

Life’s Seasons

Old Homes

Field and Forest Call

Meeting in Summer

Swinging

Rosemary

Ghost Stories

Dolce far Niente

Words

Reasons

Evasion

In May

Will you Forget?

Clouds of the Autumn Night

The Glory and the Dream

Snow and Fire

Restraint

Why Should I Pine?

When Lydia Smiles

The Rose

A Ballad of Sweethearts

Her Portrait

A Song for Yule

The Puritans’ Christmas

Spring

Lines

When Ships put out to Sea

The “Kentucky”

Quatrains

Processional

PROEM.

There is no rhyme that is half so sweet
As the song of the wind in the rippling wheat;
There is no metre that’s half so fine
As the lilt of the brook under rock and vine;
And the loveliest lyric I ever heard
Was the wildwood strain of a forest bird.—­
If the wind and the brook and the bird would teach
My heart their beautiful parts of speech. 
And the natural art that they say these with,
My soul would sing of beauty and myth
In a rhyme and a metre that none before
Have sung in their love, or dreamed in their lore,
And the world would be richer one poet the more.

VISIONS AND VOICES

Myth and Romance

I

When I go forth to greet the glad-faced Spring,
  Just at the time of opening apple-buds,
When brooks are laughing, winds are whispering,
  On babbling hillsides or in warbling woods,
  There is an unseen presence that eludes:—­
Perhaps a Dryad, in whose tresses cling
  The loamy odors of old solitudes,
Who, from her beechen doorway, calls; and leads
  My soul to follow; now with dimpling words
  Of leaves; and now with syllables of birds;
While here and there—­is it her limbs that swing? 
Or restless sunlight on the moss and weeds?