Thin-voiced, nasal pipes Drawing sound out and out Until it is a screeching thread, Sharp and cutting, sharp and cutti… It hurts.

Cloud-topped and splendid, dominat… The little lesser hills which comp… Thou standest, bright with April’… Yet holding Winter in some shaded… Of stern, steep rock; and startled…

Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our h… The end lost in dream, They float past our view,

Sea Shell, Sea Shell, Sing me a song, O Please! A song of ships, and sailor men, And parrots, and tropical trees, Of islands lost in the Spanish Ma…

I learnt to write to you in happie… And every letter was a piece I ch… From off my heart, a fragment newl… From the mosaic of life; its blues… Its throbbing reds, I gave to ear…

Panels of claret and blue which sh… Under the moon like lees of wine. A coronet done in a golden scroll, And wheels which blunder and creak… Through the muddy ruts of a moorla…

How should I sing when buffeting… And stung with bitter surges, in w… I toss, a cockleshell? The dreadf… Marshals its undefeated dark and r… In brutal madness, reeling over gr…

I pray to be the tool which to you… Long use has shaped and moulded ti… Apt for your need, and, unconsider… You take it for its service. I de… To be forgotten in the woven stran…

The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The sunshine pours in at the bath-room window and bores through the water in the bath-tub in ...

You came to me bearing bright rose… Red like the wine of your heart; You twisted them into a garland To set me aside from the mart. Red roses to crown me your lover,

My heart is tuned to sorrow, and t… Vibrate most readily to minor chor… Searching and sad; my mind is stuf… Which voice the passion and the ac… Illusions beating with their baffl…

See! I give myself to you, Belove… My words are little jars For you to take and put upon a she… Their shapes are quaint and beauti… And they have many pleasant colour…

Red slippers in a shop-window, and outside in the street, flaws of grey, windy sleet! Behind the polished glass, the slippers hang in long threads of red, festooning from the ceili...

Where else in all America are we… As in this hall? White columns polished like glass, A dome and a dome, A balcony and a balcony,

Now what in the name of the sun an… Is the meaning of this most unholy… Do men find life so full of humour… That for want of excitement they s… Fifteen millions of soldiers with…