I wake and feel the fell of dark,… What hours, O what black hours we… This night! what sights you, heart… And more must, in yet longer light… With witness I speak this. But wh…
Teevo cheevo cheevio chee: O where, what can tháat be? Weedio—weedio: there again! So tiny a trickle of sóng—strain; And all round not to be found
The fine delight that fathers thou… Spur, live and lancing like the bl… Breathes once and, quenchèd faster… Leaves yet the mind a mother of im… Nine months she then, nay years, n…
The world is charged with the gran… It will flame out, like shining fr… It gathers to a greatness, like th… Crushed. Why do men then now not… Generations have trod, have trod,…
To what serves mortal beauty ‘ —da… ing blood—the O—seal—that—so ’ fea… Than Purcell tune lets tread to?… Men’s wits to the things that are;… Master more may than gaze, ’ gaze…
The shepherd’s brow, fronting fork… The horror and the havoc and the g… Of it. Angels fall, they are towe… Of just, majestical, and giant gro… But man—we, scaffold of score brit…
Love I was shewn upon the mountai… And bid to catch Him ere the drop… See, Love, I creep and Thou on w… Love it is evening now and Thou a… Love, it grows darker here and Th…
THIS darksome burn, horseback br… His rollrock highroad roaring down… In coop and in comb the fleece of… Flutes and low to the lake falls h… A windpuff—bonnet of fáwn—fróth
Look at the stars! look, look up a… O look at all the fire—folk sittin… The bright boroughs, the circle—ci… Down in dim woods the diamond delv… The grey lawns cold where gold, wh…
O I admire and sorrow! The heart’… Discovering you, dark tramplers, t… A juice rides rich through bluebel… And beauty’s dearest veriest vein… Happy the father, mother of these!…
Elected Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorlèd ear, Pipe me to pastures still and be The music that I care to hear. Shape nothing, lips; be lovely—dum…
What shall I do for the land that… Her homes and fields that folded a… Be under her banner and live for h… Under her banner I’ll live for he… CHORUS. Under her banner live f…
May is Mary’s month, and I Muse at that and wonder why: Her feasts follow reason, Dated due to season— Candlemas, Lady Day;
The Eurydice—it concerned thee, O… Three hundred souls, O alas! on b… Some asleep unawakened, all un— warned, eleven fathoms fallen Where she foundered! One stroke
Yes. Why do we áll, seeing of a s… Our redcoats, our tars? Both thes… But frail clay, nay but foul clay.… Since, proud, it calls the calling… That, hopes that, makesbelieve, th…