O tranquil meadows, grassy Tantra… Wide marshes ever washed in cleare… Whether beneath the sole and spect… The dear severity of dawn you wear… Or whether in the joy of ample day

It is so long ago; and men well-ni… Forget what gladness was, and how… Gave corn in plenty, and the river… And the woods meat, before he went… His going was on this wise.

All night the lone cicada Kept shrilling through the rain’€“ A voice of joy undaunted By unforgotten pain. Down from the wind-blown branches

Before our trenches at Cambrai We saw their columns cringe away. We saw their masses melt and reel Before our line of leaping steel. A handful to their storming hordes…

Over the tops of the houses Twilight and sunset meet. The green, diaphanous dusk Sinks to the eager street. Astray in the tangle of roofs

Sang the sun rise on an amber morn… ‘Earth, be glad! An April day is… ’Winter’s done, and April’s in th… Earth, look up with laughter in yo… Putting off her dumb dismay of sno…

O Child of Nations, giant-limbed, Who stand’st among the nations now Unheeded, unadored, unhymned, With unanointed brow,— How long the ignoble sloth, how lo…

Grey rocks, and greyer sea,    And surf along the shore— And in my heart a name    My lips shall speak no more. The high and lonely hills

Comes the lure of green things gro… Comes the call of waters flowing - And the wayfarer desire Moves and wakes and would be going… Hark the migrant hosts of June

Summers and summers have come, and… Sunshine and thunder have been, st… Many and many a sorrow has all but… Many a dream of joy fall’n in the… Hands of chance and change have ma…

The morning sky is white with mist… White with the inspiration of the… The harvest light is on the hills… And cheer in the grave acres’ frui… Only in this high pasture is there…

The great and the little weavers, They neither rest nor sleep. They work in the height and the gl… They toil in the dark and the deep… The rainbow melts with the shower,

I see the harsh, wind-ridden, east… By the red cattle pastured, blanch… The small, mossed hillocks where t… The grey webs woven on milkweed to… The sparse, pale grasses flicker,…

When the Sleepy Man comes with th… (Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!) He shuts up the earth, and he open… (So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!) He smiles through his fingers, and…

Stumps, and harsh rocks, and prost… And gnarled roots naked to the sun… They seem in their grim stillness… And be their paint the evening pea… These ragged acres fire and the ax…