Never the nightingale, Oh, my dear, Never again the lark Thou wilt hear; Though dusk and the morning still

So may you sleep alway, My baby, my dear son: Amen, Amen, Amen. My baby, my dear son.

To Walter Savage Landor Ah, Walter, where you lived I rue These days come all too late for m… What matter if her eyes were blue Whose rival is Persephone?

In a cave born (Mary said) In a cave is My Son buried

Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,

Thou hast Drawn laughter from A well of secret tears And thence so elvish it rings, –mo… And sweet.

Scarlet the poppies Blue the corn-flowers, Golden the wheat. Gold for the Eternal: Blue for Our Lady:

Joy! Joy! Joy! The hills are glad, The valleys re-echo with merriment… In my heart is the sound of laught… And my feet dance to the time of i…

The long night through and still a… Estranged from eyes that very wear… Makes blind to dawn.

A-sway, On red rose, A golden butterfly. . And on my heart a butterfly Night-wing’d.

The poet pursues his beautiful the… The preacher his golden beatitude; And I run after a vanishing dream… The glittering, will-o’-the-wispis… Of the properly scholarly attitude…

Lo, how they weave– the imperturba… Those threads that are my destiny: Steadily at the eternal task they’… Industrious . . . indifferent . .… Weave, Fates! And what your spins…

JUST now, Out of the strange Still dusk . . . as strange, as st… A white moth flew . . . Why am I… So cold?

THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?

Behold her, Running through the waves Eager to reach the land; The water laps her, Sun and wind are on her,