Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face read more

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face to face
And bade each other stand.
"And who are you?" cried one, a-gape,
Shuddering in the glimmering light.
"I know not," said the second shape,
"I only died last night."

Or light or dark, or short or tall,
She sets a springe to snare them all:
All's read more

Or light or dark, or short or tall,
She sets a springe to snare them all:
All's one to her--above her fan
She'd make sweet eyes at Caliban.

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the read more

Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.

Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of read more

Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours?

I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
read more

I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
Red or white as snow;
I like the chaliced lilies,
The heavy Eastern lilies,
The gorgeous tiger-lilies,
That in our garden grow.