All day, all day, round the clacki… The weaver’s fingers fly: Gray dreams like frozen mists are… In the hush of the weaver’s eye; A voice from the dusk is calling y…

It fell on a day I was happy, And the winds, the concave sky, The flowers and the beasts in the… Seemed happy even as I; And I stretched my hands to the m…

Dear dark-brown waters full of all… Of sombre spruce-woods and the for… Laden with sound from far-off nort… Where winds and craggy cataracts c… Voices of streams and mountain pin…

Move on, light hands, so strongly… Now with dropped calm and yearning… Now swift and loud, tumultuously s… And I in darkness, sitting near t… Shall not only hear, and feel, but…

Life is not all for effort: there… When fancy breaks from the exactin… And rebel though takes schoolboy’s… Rejoicing in its idle strength. ’… And only at such moments, that we…

AEons ago ye were, Before the struggling changeful ra… Wrought into being, ere the tragic… Of human toil and deep desire bega… So shall ye still remain,

Once on the year’s last eve in my… Sitting in dreams, not sad, nor qu… Balancing all 'twixt wonder and de… Methought my body and all this wor… And vanished from me, as a dream,…

Along the waste, a great way off,… Like tall slim priests of storm, s… The low long strip of dolorous red… The under west, where wet winds mo… The cornfields all are brown, and…

As a weed beneath the ocean, As a pool beneath a tree Answers with each breath or motion An imperious mastery; So my spirit swift with passion

I lie upon my bed and hear and see… The moon is rising through the gli… And momently a great and sombre br… With a vast voice returning fitful… Comes like a deep-toned grief, and…

The world is bright with beauty, a… Are filled with music; could we on… True ends from false, and lofty th… Could we but tear away the walls t… Our very elbows in life’s frosty w…

Comfort the sorrowful with watchfu… In silence, for the tongue cannot… Vex not his wounds with rhetoric,… Worn truths, that are but maddenin… To him whose grief outmasters all…

Think not, oh master of the well-t… This earth is only thine; for afte… When all is sown and gathered and… Comes the grave poet with creative… And from these silent acres and cl…

What days await this woman, whose… Breathe spells, whose presence mak… Tall, free and slender as the fore… Whose form is moulded music, throu… Frank eyes I feel the very heart’…

From this windy bridge at rest, In some former curious hour, We have watched the city’s hue, All along the orange west, Cupola and pointed tower,