Sweet April's Tears, Dead On The Hem

Winter Does Not Work Only On A Broad Scale; He Is Careful In Trifles.

The Pleased Sea On A White-breasted Shore-- A Shore That Wears On Her Alluring Brows Rare Shells, Far Brought, The Love-gifts Of The Sea, That Blushed A Tell-tale.

The Spot Of Ground On Which A Man Has Stood Is Forever Interesting To Him.

A Tender Sadness Drops Upon My Soul, Like The Soft Twilight Dropping On The World.

My Garden, With Its Silence And Pulses Of Fragrance That Come And Go On The Airy Undulations, Affects Me Like Sweet Music. Care Stops At The Gates, And Gazes At Me Wistfully Through The Bars.