An age being mathematical, these f… Of linear stalks and spheroid bloo… By men with wakened, speculative m… And when with mathematics they exp… The Macrocosm, and came at last t…

A gaunt built woman and her son-in… A broad-faced fellow, with such fl… Nothing but easy nature—and his wi… The woman’s daughter, who spills a… Out of a wide mouth, but who has e…

O, to have a little house! To own the hearth and stool and al… The heaped up sods against the fir… The pile of turf against the wall! To have a clock with weights and c…

STRIDE the hill, Sower, Up to the sky ridge, Flinging the seed, Scattering, exultant! Mouthing great rhythms

I. THE TREES THERE is no glory of the sunset… Heavy the clouds upon the darkenin… And heavy, too, the wind upon the… The trees sway, making moan

THE Wild Ass lounges, legs struc… In vagrom unconcern: The tombs o Achaemenian kings Are for those hooves to spurn. And all of rugged Tartary

THE smith who made the manacles, With bar and bolt, and link and ri… Sang out above his hearty blows ‘I can’t have grief for everything… As Roger by the rope-walk went

AND that was when the chevaldour Through the whole of night Sang, for the moon of mid-July Made the hillside bright. Morfydd to David ap Gwillam spoke

ONCE I loved a maiden fair, Over the hills and jar away, Lands she had and lovers to spare, Over the hills and far away. And I was stooped and troubled so…

FOR the poor body that I own I could weep many a tear: The days have stolen flesh and bon… And left a changeling here. Four feeble bones are left to me,

IN broad daylight He should not be: Yet toward and froward, Froward and toward He weaves a flight.

A MOUNTAIN SPINNING SONG (A Young Girl sings it) THE Lannan Shee Watched the young man Brian Cross over the stile towards his f…

In The Farmer’s House I’M glad to lie on a sack of leav… By a wasted fire and take my ease. For the wind would strip me bare a… The wind would blow oul’ age upon…

IN woods remote, hid in the mount… Doves there are that have a gentle… Doves that are marked as by a poet… And hence are called Doves of the… And such ye were, and we could nev…