O HEART of Spring! Spirit of light and love and joyou… So soon to faint beneath the fiery… Still smiles the Earth, eager for… Welcome art thou, soever short thy…

YOUR voice was the rugged old voice that I knew; I gave the best grip of my greeting to you. I knew not of your lips—

The young girl stood beside me. I Saw not what her young eyes cou… —A light, she said, not of the sky Lives somewhere in the Orange Tre… —Is it, I said, of east or west?

YOU, AND YELLOW AIR by Jo… I dream of an old kissing-time And the flowered follies there; In the dim place of cherry-trees, Of you, and yellow air.

In the dim counties we take the long calm Lilting no haziness, sequel or psalm. The little street wenches,

ALL singers have shadows That follow like fears, But I know a singer Who never saw tears; A gay love—a green love—

In the far days, when every day wa… Fear was upon me and the fear was… Ere I had learned the recompense… In the dim days I trembled, for I… God was above me, always frowning…

Ragged, unheeded, stooping, meanly… The poor pass to the pond: not far… The spires go up to God. Shyly they come from the unpainted… Coats have they made of old unhapp…

When he was old and thin And knew not night or day He would sit up to say Something of the fire within. How woefully his chin

Oh ’twas a poor country, in Autum… The only green was the cutting gra… Oh, the thin wheat and the brown o… But down in the poor country no pa… My wealth it was the glow that liv…

Let your song be delicate. The skies declare No war—the eyes of lovers Wake everywhere. Let your voice be delicate.

The bird is my neighbour, a whimsi… There is in the lake a nobility fa… The bird is a noble, he turns to t… And the ripples are thoughts comin… The bird is both ancient and excel…

When you go underground with all y… Your kindly lies and your ridiculo… You shall not ever fear to face ag… The strong man’s rage, the woman w… Nor song nor sigh will beat upon y…

THE STARS are pale. Old is the Night, his case is gri… His strength doth fail. Through stilly hours The dews have draped with love’s o…

He has the full moon on his breast… The moonbeams are about hs wing; He has the colours of a king. I see him floating unto rest When all eyes wearily go west,