Why were you born when the snow wa… You should have come to the cuckoo… Or when grapes are green in the cl… Or, at least, when lithe swallows… For their far off flying
‘While I sit at the door Sick to gaze within Mine eye weepeth sore For sorrow and sin: As a tree my sin stands
Oh the cheerful Budding—time! When thorn—hedges turn to green, When new leaves of elm and lime Cleave and shed their winter scree… Tender lambs are born and ‘baa,’
Am I a stone, and not a sheep, That I can stand, O Christ, bene… To number drop by drop Thy Blood’… And yet not weep? Not so those women loved
I have a little husband And he is gone to sea, The winds that whistle round his s… Fly home to me. The winds that sigh about me
'There’s a footstep coming: look o… ‘The leaves are falling, the wind… No one cometh across the lea.’— 'There’s a footstep coming; O sis… ‘The ripple flashes, the white foa…
The peach tree on the southern wal… Has basked so long beneath the sun… Her score of peaches great and sma… Bloom rosy, every one. A peach for brothers, one for each…
My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water’d shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickse… My heart is like a rainbow shell
Frost—locked all the winter, Seeds, and roots, and stones of fr… What shall make their sap ascend That they may put forth shoots? Tips of tender green,
My sun has set, I dwell In darkness as a dead man out of s… And none remains, not one, that I… To him mine evil plight This bitter night.
Something this foggy day, a someth… Is neither of this fog nor of toda… Has set me dreaming of the winds t… Past certain cliffs, along one cer… And turn the topmost edge of waves…
On the wind of January Down flits the snow, Travelling from the frozen North As cold as it can blow. Poor robin redbreast,
Sing me a song — What shall I sing?— Three merry sisters Dancing in a ring, Light and fleet upon their feet
A city plum is not a plum; A dumb—bell is no bell, though dum… A party rat is not a rat; A sailor’s cat is not a cat; A soldier’s frog is not a frog;
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…