Deep in the hush of a mighty wood I came to a place of dread and dre… And forms of shadows, whose shapes… The searching swords of the sun’s… Builders of silence and solitude.

To it the forest tells The mystery that haunts its heart… Its form in cogitation deep, that… The shadow of each myth that dwell… In nature be it Nymph or Fay or…

There is a poetry that speaks Through common things: the grassho… That in the hot weeds creaks and c… Says all of summer to my ear: And in the cricket’s cry I hear

There is a field, that leans upon… Foamed o’er of flowers and twinkli… That in its girdle of wild acres b… The anodyne of rest that cures all… Wherein soft wind and sun and soun…

Sometimes, when I’m gone to-bed, And it’s all dark in the room, Seems I hear somebody tread Heavy, rustling through the gloom: And then something there goes ‘boo…

The joys that touched thee once, b… The sympathies of sky and sea, The friendships of each rock and p… That made thy lonely life, ah me! In Tempe or in Gargaphie.

Deep in her broom-sedge, burs and… Her frost-slain asters and dead ma… Where gray the wilding clematis ba… The brake with puff-balls: where t… Her sombre steps: decked with the…

The deep seclusion of this forest… O’er which the green boughs weave… Along which bluet and anemone Spread dim a carpet; where the Tw… Her cool abode; and, sweet as afte…

To Friendship drink, and then to… And last to Loyalty! The first of these were not enough Without the last, through whom we… That Love is Love, and right enou…

Well, what of it then, if your hea… Of the world’s neglect? and the sm… Of doubt, blown into your eyes, ma… And the sting of the goad, The merciless goad of scorn,

A Far bell tinkles in the hollow, And heart and soul are fain to fol… Gone is the rose and gone the swal… Autumn is here. The wild geese draw at dusk their…

The cut-throat darkness hemmed me… I waited, helpless in its grasp. The forest gave no sign or sound: The wind was dead: no insect’s ras… I heard, nor water’s gulp and gasp

Seemingly over the hill-tops, Possibly under the hills, A tireless wing that never drops, And a song that never stills. Epics heard on the stars’ lips?

‘T is n’t long till Christmas now… First thing that you’ll know, it’s… Nurse can tell it, don’t know how, By the smell o’ th’ atmosphere, Shivery and never clear.

What wood-god, on this water’s mos… Lost in reflections of earth’s lov… Did I, just now, unconsciously di… I, who haphazard, wandering at a g… Came on this spot, wherein, with g…