The last light has gone out of the world, except  This moonlight lying on the grass like frost Beyond the brink of the tall elm’s shadow. It is as if everything else had slept  Many an age, unforgotten and lost  The men that were, the things done, long ago, All I have thought; and but the moon and I  Live yet and here stand idle over the grave  Where all is buried. Both have liberty  To dream what we could do if we were free  To do some thing we had desired long, The moon and I. There’s none...

All day and night, save winter, every weather, Above the inn, the smithy and the shop, The aspens at the cross-roads talk together  Of...

Only the sound remains  Of the old mill; Gone is the wheel; On the prone roof and walls the nettle reigns. Water that toils no more ...