Spare us our Dreams, O God! The… When we were children and dwelt ne… Of Faery, which our Childhood oft… To reach, beholding where its towe… The dream our Youth put seaward w…

The waterfall, deep in the wood, Talked drowsily with solitude, A soft, insistent sound of foam, That filled with sleep the forest’… Where, like some dream of dusk, sh…

Old Man Rain at the windowpane Knocks and fumbles and knocks agai… His long-nailed fingers slip and s… Old Man Rain at the windowpane Knocks all night but knocks in vai…

The little tents the wildflowers r… Are tabernacles where Love prays And Beauty preaches all the days. I walk the woodland through and th… And everywhere I see their blue

I Saw the daughters of the Dawn c… The winds of Morn danced with the… I saw their ribboned roses blow, t… As over eyes of sapphire tossed th… I saw the summer of their feet imp…

No more for him, where hills look… Shall Morning crown Her rainy brow with blossom bands!… The Morning Hours, whose rosy han… Drop wildflowers of the breaking s…

You, who are four years old; You, with the eyes of blue; You with the age of gold Young in the heart of you, Boy with the eyes of blue:

He rode adown the autumn wood, A man dark-eyed and brown; A mountain girl before him stood Clad in a homespun gown. ‘To ride this road is death for yo…

Why speak of Rajah rubies, And roses of the South? I know a sweeter crimson A baby’s mouth. Why speak of Sultan sapphires

Heaped in raven loops and masses Over temples smooth and fair, Have you marked it, as she passes, Gleam and shadow mingled there, Braided strands of midnight air,

A Mile of lane, hedged high with… And dying daisies, white with sun,… Downward into a wood; through whic… Steals like a shadow; over which i… A bridge of logs, worn deep by man…

Woods of wonder, wonder ways, Where the Faery Piper plays, Bidding all to up and follow Over haunted hill and hollow, And behold again the Fays

The hornets build in plaster-dropp… And on its mossy porch the lizard… Around its chimneys slow the swall… And on its roof the locusts snow t… Like some sad thought that broods…

How long ago it is since we went… Since she and I went Maying long… The years have left my forehead li… Have thinned my hair around the te… Ah, time will change us: yea, I h…

Not into these dark cities, These sordid marts and streets, That the sun in his rising pities, And the moon with sorrow greets, Does she, with her dreams and flow…