The Ragged Wood
O, hurry, where by water, among the trees,
The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,
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How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
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Song
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
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Tell me not, Sweet,
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind
For, from the nunnery
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Wind and Window Flower
Lovers, forget your love,
And list to the love of these,
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To a Stranger
Passing stranger! you do not know
How longingly I look upon you,
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If You Were Coming In The Fall
If you were coming in the fall
I'd brush the summer by
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Rose Aylmer
Ah, what avails the sceptred race;
Ah, what the form divine.
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Mild Is The Parting Year
Mild is the parting year and sweet
The odour of the falling spray;
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A Birthday
My heart is like a singing bird
Whose heart is in a watered shoot.
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