Never more the lad was merry,
Strayed apart, and learned to dream,
Feeding on the tart wild berry;
Murmuring words none understood,--
Words with music of the wood,
And with music of the stream.




SUMMER HOURS


Hours aimless-drifting as the milkweed's down
In seeming, still a seed of joy ye bear
That steals into the soul when unaware,
And springs up Memory in the stony town.




LOVE UNSUNG


Seven jewelled rays has the Sun fast bound
In his arrow of blinding sheen;
But he quickens the breast of the fruitful ground
With a subtlest ray unseen.

And the rainbow moods of this love of ours