There is nothing more that they ca… For all their rage and boast; Caiaphas with his blaspheming crew… Herod with his host, Pontius Pilate in his Judgement—h…
There is one that has a head witho… And there’s one that has an eye wi… You may find the answer if you try… And when all is said, Half the answer hangs upon a threa…
I dwell alone —I dwell alone, alo… Whilst full my river flows down to… Gilded with flashing boats That bring no friend to me: O love—songs, gurgling from a hund…
A baby’s cradle with no baby in it… A baby’s grave where autumn leaves… The sweet soul gathered home to P… The body waiting here.
I nursed it in my bosom while it l… I hid it in my heart when it was d… In joy I sat alone, even so I gri… Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked…
‘Oh, sad thy lot before I came, But sadder when I go; My presence but a flash of flame, A transitory glow Between two barren wastes like sno…
There’s snow on the fields, And cold in the cottage, While I sit in the chimney nook Supping hot pottage. My clothes are soft and warm,
A toadstool comes up in a night, — Learn the lesson, little folk: — An oak grows on a hundred years, But then it is an oak.
Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its… It frets against the boundary shor… All earth’s full rivers cannot fil… The sea, that drinking thirsteth s…
Young Love lies sleeping In May—time of the year, Among the lilies, Lapped in the tender light: White lambs come grazing,
The wind has such a rainy sound Moaning through the town, The sea has such a windy sound, — Will the ships go down? The apples in the orchard
I know a baby, such a baby, — Round blue eyes and cheeks of pink… Such an elbow furrowed with dimple… Such a wrist where creases sink. ‘Cuddle and love me, cuddle and lo…
If I might see another Spring I’d not plant summer flowers and w… I’d have my crocuses at once My leafless pink mezereons, My chill—veined snow—drops, choice…
‘Ferry me across the water, Do, boatman, do.’ ‘If you’ve a penny in your purse I’ll ferry you.’ ‘I have a penny in my purse,
She sat alway thro’ the long day Spinning the weary thread away; And ever said in undertone: ‘Come, that I be no more alone.’ From early dawn to set of sun