When fires have burnt your forest… And you are parched and dizzy, and… For pools in dust unvisited of rai… And shamble, lost, along a shimmer… This is the comfort of the world:…

The patriot from his walls of bras… Is singing loudly as I pass; With fearless heart and open eyes, He shouts the ancient battle cries… And, where I pause to hear him si…

Not till the sun, that brings to b… The myriad marvels of the earth And bids us look with wandering ey… On all that here about us lies, Has gone behind the hill,

What imps are these that come with… Black motes upon the morning’s amb… They crowd and float about each ha… And blow upon pure joy the taint o… Perforce those muttered hideous wo…

Gone are the aching want, the unce… Mad flight and moaning over batter… And self-contempt whose secret pen… Out of the writhing soul her blood… But use has never taught me to for…

Yonder, with eyes that tears, not… With ears the wide world’s thickne… We see tumultuous miseries that ha… The night’s dead watches, hear the… Of ruin shrieking through the musi…

Hail to you, comrades, who have wo… Where the torn lines of battle run By tattered town and ruined mead, The honour that men give with prid… To those who, daffing death aside,

Swags up! and yet I turn upon the… The yellow hill against a dapple s… With tufts and clumps of thorn, th… All through the wonder-pregnant ni… Until the silver stars were merged…

A timid child with heart oppressed By images of sin, I slunk into the bush for rest, And found my fairy kin. The fire I carried kept me warm:

O Merlin, how the magic from your… Bids the world flame about your id… And makes a marvel of the humming… The watchful bush, the starry-haun… Dear, do you know that all such ma…

And can you tell me Love is blind Because your faults he will not fi… Because the image that he sees Is one of splendid mysteries? And if he lack the power to look

Far down the reach a creeping mist Hung dim along the mountain side; On shadowed water, sleek and whist… I let the lazy shallop glide. The ripple scarcely cut the green

Good friend of mine, you feel with… Your blood grows hot by sympathy With something that I say or do; Then speak—I want a word from you… Let not the silence wrap you round

While the summer day is hot You and I will loaf awhile, Lolling in a leafy spot, Lali of the cunning smile. You and I have little care

“Where shall we dwell?” say you.    Wandering winds reply: “In a temple with roof of blue    —Under the splendid sky.” Never a nobler home