John B. Tabb quotes:

And pray, who are you?" Said the Violet blue To the Bee, with surprise, At his wonderful size, In her eyeglass of dew. "I, madam," quoth he, "Am a publican Bee, Collecting the tax Of honey and wax. Have you nothing for me?

Hush! With sudden gush As from a fountain sings in yonder bush The Hermit Thrush.

Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves, O flakes of snow, For which, through naked trees, the winds A-mourning go?

Alas! dear Joy, the merriest, is dead. But I have wed Peace ; and our babe, a boy, New-born, is Joy.

A flash of harmless lightning,A mist of rainbow dyes.The burnished sunbeams brighteningFrom flower to flower he flies;While wakes the nodding blossomBut just too late to seeWhat lip hath touched her bosomAnd drained her rosary.

Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves, O flakes of snow, For which, through naked trees, the winds A-mourning go~?

Out of the dusk a shadow, Then a spark; Out of the cloud a silence, Then a lark; Out of the heart a rapture, Then a pain; Out of the dead, cold ashes, Life again.

A flash of harmless lightning, A mist of rainbow dyes, The burnished sunbeams brightening From flower to flower he flies.

In every seed to breathe a flower, In every drop of dew To reverence a cloister star Within the distant blue; To wait the promise of the how, Despite the cloud between, Is Faith-the fervid evidence Of loneliness unseen.

Why should I stay? Nor seed nor fruit have I,But, sprung at once to beauty's perfect round,Nor loss nor gain nor change in me is found,-A life-complete in death-complete to die.