Oh what is that country And where can it be, Not mine own country, But dearer far to me? Yet mine own country,
I loved my love from green of Spr… Until sere Autumn’s fall; But now that leaves are withering How should one love at all? One heart’s too small
I nursed it in my bosom while it l… I hid it in my heart when it was d… In joy I sat alone, even so I gri… Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked…
THE irresponsive silence of the l… The irresponsive sounding of the s… Speak both one message of one sens… Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so s… Thou too aloof, bound with the fla…
Once in a dream I saw the flowers That bud and bloom in Paradise; More fair they are than waking eye… Have seen in all this world of our… And faint the perfume—bearing rose…
She sat alway thro’ the long day Spinning the weary thread away; And ever said in undertone: ‘Come, that I be no more alone.’ From early dawn to set of sun
If the sun could tell us half That he hears and sees, Sometimes he would make us laugh, Sometimes make us cry: Think of all the birds that make
O Christ, the Vine with living F… The twelvefold—fruited Tree of Li… The Balm in Gilead after strife, The valley Lily and the Rose; Stronger than Lebanon, Thou Root…
Under the ivy bush One sits sighing, And under the willow tree One sits crying: — Under the ivy bush
All the bells were ringing And all the birds were singing, When Molly sat down crying For her broken doll: O you silly Moll!
The hope I dreamed of was a dream… Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, a… For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree,
Promise me no promises, So will I not promise you: Keep we both our liberties, Never false and never true: Let us hold the die uncast,
Here where I dwell I waste to ski… The curse is come upon me, and I… In penal torment powerless to aton… The curse is come on me, which mak… And doth not tarry, crushing both…
‘Croak, croak, croak,’ Thus the Raven spoke, Perched on his crooked tree As hoarse as hoarse could be. Shun him and fear him,
To think that this meaningless thi… Scentless, colourless, this! Will it ever be thus (who knows?) Thus with our bliss, If we wait till the close?