“Hush!” was my whisper At the stair-top When the waggoners were down below Home from the barley-crop. Through the high window

Though summer long delayeth Her blue and golden boon, Yet now at length she stayeth Her wings above the noon; She sets the waters dreaming

We are talkative proud, and assure… sufficient, The quick of the earth this day; This inn is ours, and its courtyar… history,

I went beneath the sunny sky– When all things bowed to June’s d… The pansy with its steadfast eye, The blue shells on the lupin spire… The swelling fruit along the bough…

In the Wheatsheaf parlour I sat t… The story of Chippington street g… The squire, and dames of little de… And drovers with cattle and flocks… And these were all as my creatures…

Lord Rameses of Egypt sighed Because a summer evening passed; And little Ariadne cried That summer fancy fell at last To dust; and young Verona died

Merely the moonlight Piercing the boughs of my may-tree… Falling upon my ferns; Only the night Touching my ferns with silver bloo…

High up in the sky there, now, you… In this May twilight, our cottage… Tenantless, and no creature there… Near it but Mrs. Fry’s fat cows,… Dove-coloured, as is Cotswold. No…

Barefoot we went by Millers Dale When meadowsweet was golden gloom And happy love was in the vale Singing upon the summer bloom Of gipsy crop and branches laid

Sweet in the rushes The reed-singers make A music that hushes The life of the lake; The leaves are dumb,

He comes on chosen evenings, My blackbird bountiful, and sings Over the gardens of the town Just at the hour the sun goes down… His flight across the chimneys thi…

The barriers of sleep are crossed And I alone am yet awake, Keeping another Pentecost For that new visitation’s sake Of life descending on the hills

Black in the summer night my Cotw… Aslant my window sleeps, beneath a… Deep as the bedded violets that fi… March woods with dusky passion. A… Abed between cool walls I watch t…

Sometimes the ghosts forgotten go Along the hill-top way, And with long scythes of silver mo… Meadows of moonlit hay, Until the cocks of Cotswold crow