They leave us so to the way we too

I slumbered with your poems on my
Spread open as I dropped them hal
Like dove wings on a figure on a t
To see, if in a dream they brought
I might not have the chance I mis

When the spent sun throws up its r
And goes down burning into the gul
No voice in nature is heard to cry
At what has happened. Birds, at l
It is the change to darkness in th

Here come the line-gang pioneering
They throw a forest down less cut
They plant dead trees for living,
They string together with a living
They string an instrument against

When I was young, we dwelt in a v
By a misty fen that rang all night
And thus it was the maidens pale
I knew so well, whose garments tra
Across the reeds to a window light

The rain to the wind said,
'You push and I’ll pelt.'
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged - though not dead.

Thus of old the Douglas did:
He left his land as he was bid
With the royal heart of Robert th
In a golden case with a golden lid
To carry the same to the Holy Lan

Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise

For every parcel I stoop down to
I lose some other off my arms and
And the whole pile is slipping, bo
Extremes too hard to comprehend at
Yet nothing I should care to leav

Something inspires the only cow of
To make no more of a wall than an
And think no more of wall-builders
Her face is flecked with pomace an
A cider syrup. Having tasted frui