WHAT though my words glance side… Which I would utter in thine ear,… Truth in the inward parts thou dos… Wise hunger, not a fitness fine of… The little child that clamouring f…

Within my heart a worm had long be… I knew it not when I went down an… Because some servants of my inner… Had not, I found, of late been do… But then I spied the horror hideo…

Had I a great ship coming home, With big plunge o’er the sea, What bright things, hid from star… Lay in her heart for thee! The stormy billows heave and dip,

Would-be prophets tell us We shall not re-know Them that walked our fellows In the ways below! Smoking, smouldering Tophets

They were parted then at last? Was it duty, or force, or fate? Or did a worldly blast Blow-to the meeting-gate? An old, short story is this!

Look! look there! Send your eyes across the gray By my finger-point away Through the vaporous, fumy air. Beyond the air, you see the dark?

Out of thy door I run to do the t… That calls upon me. Straight the… Whoops from mine ears the sounds o… About their work, ‘My God, my fat… I turn in haste to see thy blessed…

O Lord, I cannot but believe The birds do sing thy praises then… And they are lying seed-sown land… Their little bosoms breeding songs… If thou hadst finished me, O Lord…

The times are changed, and gone th… When the high heavenly land, Though unbeheld, quite near them l… And men could understand. The dead yet find it, who, when he…

If thou hadst been a sculptor, wha… Of forms divine had thenceforth fi… Methinks I see thee, glorious wor… Striking a marble window through b… Thy face’s reflex on the coming fa…

I stood in an ancient garden With high red walls around; Over them grey and green lichens In shadowy arabesque wound. The topmost climbing blossoms

Father, I cry to thee for bread With hungred longing, eager prayer… Thou hear’st, and givest me instea… More hunger and a half-despair. 0 Lord, how long? My days decline…

O Father, I am in the dark, My soul is heavy-bowed: I send my prayer up like a lark, Up through my vapoury shroud, To find thee,

Every time would have its song If the heart were right, Seeing Love all tender-strong Fills the day and night. Weary drop the hands of Prayer

What life it is, and how that all… With outward maker’s force, or lik… Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia To L.P.M.D.