A DREAM I WOULD I could weave in The colour, the wonder, The song I conceive in My heart while I ponder,

THE SEA was hoary, hoary, Beating on rock and cave: The winds were white and weeping With foam dust of the wave. They thundered louder, louder,

DARK head by the fireside broodi… Where upon your ears Whirlwinds of the earth intruding Sound in wrath and tears: Tender-hearted, in your lonely

I KNOW myself no more, my child, Since thou art come to me, Pity so tender and so wild Hath wrapped my thoughts of thee. These thoughts, a fiery gentle rai…

NOW the rooftree of the midnight… Buds in citron, green, and blue: From afar its mystic odours sheddi… Child, on you. Now the buried stars beneath the m…

A DIAMOND glow of winter o’er… Amid the chilly halo nigh the west Flickers a phantom violet bloom un… Dim on the twilight’s breast. Only phantasmal blooms but for an…

WE turned back mad from the mysti… All foamed with red and with elfin… Up from the heart of the twilight’… The fires enchanted were starward… We turned back mad: we thought of…

I GO down from the hills half in… Where the Mother with gentlest br… For I know that my childhood is o… And the love that I had in the ol… I am fired by a Danaan whisper of…

THE HEAVENS lay hold on us: t… Fondle with flickering fingers bro… A new enchantment lights the ancie… What is it looks between us gaze o… Does the wild spirit of the endles…

I WOULD not have the love of li… The ancient ways of love: But in my heart I built a Paradis… A nest there for the dove. I felt the wings of light that flu…

THE WHILE my mad brain whirled… She only looked with eyes elate Immortal love at me. I found How deep the glance of love can wo… How cruel pity is to hate.

WHAT call may draw thee back aga… Lost dove, what art, what charm ma… The tender touch, the kiss, are va… For thou wert lured away by these. Oh, must we use the iron hand,

COULD you not in silence borrow Strength to go from us ungrieving? All these hours of loving sorrow Only make more bitter leaving. You will go forth lonely, thinking

HOW often have I said, “We may not grieve for the immorta… And now, poor blenchèd heart, Thy ruddy hues all tremulous depar… Why be with fate at strife

IN day from some titanic past it… As if a thread divine of memory ru… Born ere the Mighty One began his… Or yet were stars and suns. But here an iron will has fixed th…