#English
I’ve left my own old home of homes… Green fields and every pleasant pl… The summer like a stranger comes, I pause and hardly know her face. I miss the hazel’s happy green,
The nodding oxeye bends before the… The woodbine quakes lest boys thei… And prickly dogrose spite of its a… Can’t dare the blossom—seeking han… While thistles wear their heavy kn…
Maid of Jerusalem, by the Dead S… I wandered all sorrowing thinking… Thy city in ruins, thy kindred dep… All fallen and lost by the Ottoma… I saw thee sit there in disconsola…
He plays with other boys when work… But feels too clumsy and too stiff… Yet where there’s mischief he can… The first to join and last [to run… What’s said or done he never hears…
The heroes of the present and the… Were puny, vague, and nothingness… Thou didst a span grasp mighty to… And strain for glory when thy die… That little island, on the Atlant…
On Lolham Brigs in wild and lonel… I’ve seen the winter floods their… Through each old arch that tremble… Bent o’er its wall to watch the da… As their old stations would be was…
Huge elm, with rifted trunk all no… Like to a warrior’s destiny! I lo… To stretch me often on thy shadowe… And hear the laugh of summer leave… Or on thy buttressed roots to sit,…
The cuckoo, like a hawk in flight, With narrow pointed wings Whews o’er our heads —soon out of… And as she flies she sings: And darting down the hedgerow side
I would not wish the burning blaze Of fame around a restless world, The thunder and the storm of prais… In crowded tumults heard and hurle… I would not be a flower to stand
The fir trees taper into twigs and… The rich blue green of summer all… Softening the roughest tempest alm… And offering shelter ever still an… To the small path that towels unde…
Stopt by the storm, that long in s… From the south—west stained its en… Haymakers, hustling from the rain… Sought the grey willows by the pas… And there, while big drops bow the…
With careful step to keep his bala… He reels on warily along the stree… Slabbering at mouth and with a sta… Mutters an angry look at all he me… Bumptious and vain and proud he sh…
The landscape sleeps in mist from… And, if the sun looks through, ‘ti… Beamless and pale and round, as if… When done the journey of her night… Had found him sleeping, and suppli…
Infant’ graves are steps of angels… Earth’s brightest gems of innocenc… God is their parent, and they need… He takes them to His bosom from e… A bud their lifetime and a flower…
Love and thy vain employs, away From this too oft deluded breast! No longer will I court thy stay, To be my bosom’s teazing guest. Thou treacherous medicine, reckone…