The shadowy boy of night Crosses the dusking land; He sows his poppy-seeds With steady, gentle hand. The shadowy boy of night

Ere the horne’d owl hoot Once and twice and thrice there sh… Go among the blind brown worms News of thy great burial; When the pomp is passed away,

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

I have minded me Of the noon-day brightness, And the cricket’s drowsy Singing in the sunshine. . I have minded me

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

Lo, All the Way, Look you, I said, the clouds will… Grow clear, the road Be easier for my travelling the fi… So sodden and dead,

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…

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

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

With swift Great sweep of her Magnificent arm my pain Clanged back the doors that shut m… From life.

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…

Sea-foam And coral! Oh, I’ll Climb the great pasture rocks And dream me mermaid in the sun’s Gold flood.

Have yet forgot, sweet birds, How near the heaven’s lie? Drooping, sick-pinion’d, oh Have yet forgot the sky? The air that once I knew

Fugitive, wistful, Pausing at edge of her going, Autumn, the maiden, turns, Leans to the earth with ineffable Gesture. Ah, more than

Guardian Of The Treasure Of Sol… And Keeper Of the Prophet’s Armo… My tent A vapour that The wind dispels and but