Cruel of heart, lay down my song, Your reading eyes have done me wro… Not for you was the pen bitten, And the mind wrung, and the song w…

Pity me not because the light of d… At close of day no longer walks th… Pity me not for beauties passed aw… From field and thicket as the the… Pity me not the waning of the moon…

Not with libations, but with shout… We drenched the altars of Love’s… Shaking to earth green fruits, imp… The launching of the colored moths… Love’s proper myrtle and his mothe…

Euclid alone has looked on Beauty… Let all who prate of Beauty hold… And lay them prone upon the earth… To ponder on themselves, the while… At nothing, intricately drawn nowh…

Ah, could I lay me down in this l… And close my eyes, and let the qui… Blow over me—I am so tired, so ti… Of passing pleasant places! All m… Following Care along the dusty ro…

Women have loved before as I love… At least, in lively chronicles of… Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow Or Trojan waters by a Spartan mas… Much to their cost invaded—here an…

Thou art not lovelier than lilacs,… Nor honeysuckle; thou art not more… Than small white single poppies,—… Thy beauty; though I bend before… From left to right, not knowing wh…

God had called us, and we came; Our loved Earth to ashes left; Heaven was a neighbor’s house, Open to us, bereft. Gay the lights of Heaven showed,

Ho, Giant! This is I! I have built me a bean-stalk into… La,—but it’s lovely, up so high! This is how I came,—I put Here my knee, there my foot,

Not in a silver casket cool with p… Or rich with red corundum or with… Locked, and the key withheld, as o… Have given their loves, I give my… Not in a lovers’-knot, not in a ri…

There it was I saw what I shall n… And never retrieve. Monstrous and beautiful to human e… believe, He lay, yet there he lay,

If I grow bitterly, Like a gnarled and stunted tree, Bearing harshly of my youth Puckered fruit that sears the mout… If I make of my drawn boughs

Make bright the arrows Gather the shields: Conquest narrows The peaceful fields. Stock well the quiver

Oh, here the air is sweet and stil… And soft’s the grass to lie on; And far away’s the little hill They took for Christ to die on. And there’s a hill across the broo…