The Dai horse neighs against the… The birds of Etsu have no love fo… Emotion is born out of habit. Yesterday we went out of the Wild… To-day from the Dragon-Pen.

When I am old I will not have you look apart From me, into the cold, Friend of my heart, Nor be sad in your remembrance

Young men riding in the street In the bright new season Spur without reason Causing their steeds to leap. And at the pace they keep

What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be… What thou lov’st well is thy true…

Now if ever it is time to cleanse… to lead Emathian horses afield, And to name over the census of my… If I have not the faculty, ‘The b… ‘In the things of similar magnitud…

This boat is of shato-wood, and it… magnolia, Musicians with jewelled flutes and… Fill full the sides in rows, and o… Is rich for a thousand cups.

You say that I take a good deal u… That I strut in the robes of assu… In a few years no one will remembe… No one will remember the trivial p… The comic detail will be absent.

O Fan of white silk, clear as frost on the grass—blade, You also are laid aside.

There’s a regret So grinding, so immitigably sad, Remorse thereby feels tolerant, ev… Do you not know it yet? For deeds undone

`Tis of my country that I would e… In hope to set some misconceptions… My country? I love it well, and t… Who, since their wit’s unknown, es… But you stuffed coats who’re neith…

O woe, woe, People are born and die, We also shall be dead pretty soon Therefore let us act as if we were dead already.

What have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere,

The West a glimmering lake of lig… A dream of pearly weather, The first of stars is burning whit… The star we watch together. Is April dead? The unresting year

Take, dear, my little sheaf of son… For, old or new, All that is good in them belongs Only to you; And, singing as when all was young…