#English
Often I had gone this way before But now it seemed I never could b… And never had been anywhere else; ’Twas home; one nationality We had, I and the birds that sang…
Old Man, or Lads-Love, - in the… To one that knows not Lads-Love,… The hoar green feathery herb, almo… Growing with rosemary and lavender… Even to one that knows it well, th…
I have come to the borders of slee… The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight, Or winding, soon or late;
As the clouds that are so light, Beautiful, swift, and bright, Cast shadows on field and park Of the earth that is so dark, And even so now, light one!
Gone the wild day: A wilder night Coming makes way For brief twilight. Where the firm soaked road
At hawthorn-time in Wiltshire tra… In search of something chance woul… An old man’s face, by life and wea… And coloured, - rough, brown, swee… A land face, sea-blue-eyed, - hung…
There they stand, on their ends, t… That once were underwood of hazel… In Jenny Pink’s copse. Now, by t… Close packed, they make a thicket… Can creep through with the mouse a…
An acre of land between the shore… Upon a ledge that shows my kingdom… The lovely visible earth and sky a… Where what the curlew needs not, t… A house that shall love me as I l…
This is no case of petty right or… That politicians or philosophers Can judge. I hate not Germans, no… With love of Englishmen, to pleas… Beside my hate for one fat patriot
The flowers left thick at nightfal… This Eastertide call into mind th… Now far from home, who, with their… Have gathered them and will do nev…
Seated once by a brook, watching a… Chiefly that paddled, I was thus… Mellow the blackbird sang and shar… Not far off in oak and hazel brush… Unseen. There was a scent like ho…
Gone, gone again, May, June, July, And August gone, Again gone by, Not memorable
Often and often it came back again To mind, the day I passed the hor… To a new country, the path I had… By half-gaps that were stiles once… The pack of scarlet clouds running…
The Combe was ever dark, ancient… Its mouth is stopped with brambles… And no one scrambles over the slid… By beech and yew and perishing jun… Down the half precipices of its si…
