Kind Earth, upon whose mother bre… The fruitful trees in time of spri… Put forth their endless blossoming From North to South, from East t… Whose sweet deep-furrowed soil is…

I turn’d to you, the sky was amber… Blue haze and flaming bracken stre… In undulating mystery to the day, Reclining that the evening might b… And hide her softly 'neath his sta…

What so dead as my love for you, What so terribly dead! Lay it low ‘neath the grass and de… Bury it deep in an earthy bed, Then put a tombstone over its head

(Sidmouth) Evening upon the calm sweet sea, A little wind asleep, Dim sails that drift as tranquilly As dreams in slumber deep.

The Malvern Hills be green some d… And some days purple-blue, There never was the like of them The whole of England through. From Hanley straight into the Wel…

Schwartz Wald I sought at dawn for the sweet whi… In hiding among the blue, The earth was warm with the summer… The flowers still damp with dew.

I made a little funeral pyre, And on it laid my youthful rhymes, Those thoughts of innocent desire, Dear foolish words of childhood ti… Poor things they were, misspelt an…

I MIND me of the hawthorn trees, With cuckoos flying near ; The hawthorn blossoms smelt so swe… The cuckoo called so clear! The hill was steep enough to climb…

I stood beside you in the dark, And felt the magic of the night Steal o’er my senses, 'til they sw… And mists of passion dimmed my sig… The stillness made me dumb, those…

The hillside green with bracken. And the red plough land, The brownish hurrying rivers, Where the willows stand. The thickets and the meadows.

July 23rd, 1906 Across the hills a tender shadow s… Like thought upon the face of one… And thro’ the silence rang some di… A vague sweet music in its every t…

To-day I hate that bitter creed, Whereby the groaning soul is taugh… That God Almighty finds the need Of pain, ere true salvation 's wro… Dear God, who did create the tree…

If at some future day we two shoul… Stand face to face before the star… And pull from Love’s dead form th… That time has wound about from hea… I scarcely know what words would c…

Come, put yer little hand in mine. And let it be at rest. It minds me of a tired bird Within a warm brown nest ; And bend that pretty head o’ your’…