But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!

With night’s Dim veil and blue I will cover my eyes, I will bind close my eyes that are So weary.

How can you lie so still? All day… And never a blade of all the green… To show where restlessly you toss… And fling a desperate arm or draw… Stiffened and aching from their lo…

Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look In the pages of my book; And as these thy hand doth turn, Know here is my funeral urn.

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

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

Look up . . . From bleakening hills Blows down the light, first breath Of wintry wind . . . look up, and… The snow!

Too far afield thy search. Nay, t… At thine own elbow potent Memory… Thy double, and eternity is cupped In the pale hollow of those ghostl…

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?

What words Are left thee then Who hast squandered on thy Forgetfulness eternity’s I Love?

‘Let me be young,’ the Latmian sh… ‘And let me have on night-time hil… Whom she of Cynthus saw, Heaven’s… And gave his youth and dreams her… What news comrade upon the mountai…

And the centurion who stood by sai… Truly this was a son of God. Not long ago but everywhere I go There is a hill and a black windy… Portent of hill, sky, day’s eclips…

The sun is warm today, O Romulus, and on Thine older Palentine the birds Still sing.

Still as On windless nights The moon-cast shadows are, So still will be my heart when I Am dead.

The clustered Gods, the marching… The mighty-limbed, deep-bosomed T… The shimmering grey-gold London f… I wish that Phidias could see!