LOOK at my knees, That island rising from the steamy… The candle’s a tall lightship; my… Are boats and barges anchored to t… With mighty cliffs all round;…

The hunter to the husbandman Pays tribute since our love began, And to love—loyalty dedicates The phantom kills he meditates. Let me embrace, embracing you,

Cherries of the night are riper Than the cherries pluckt at noon Gather to your fairy piper When he pipes his magic tune: Merry, merry,

Small gnats that fly In hot July And lodge in sleeping ears, Can rouse therein A trumpet’s din

The great sun sinks behind the tow… Through a red mist of Volnay wine… But what’s the use of setting down That glorious blaze behind the tow… You’ll only skip the page, you’ll…

I’ve watched the Seasons passing… In the fields between La Bassée a… Primroses and the first warm day o… Red poppy floods of June, August, and yellowing Autumn, so

Near Martinpuich that night of he… Two men were struck by the same sh… Together tumbling in one heap Senseless and limp like slaughtere… One was a pale eighteen—year—old,

We may well wonder at those bearde… Who like the scorpion and the basi… Couched in the desert sands, to un… Their scrufy flesh with tortures. They drank from pools fouled by th…

Under this loop of honeysuckle, A creeping, coloured caterpillar, I gnaw the fresh green hawthorn sp… I nibble it leaf by leaf away. Down beneath grow dandelions,

Now I begin to know at last, These nights when I sit down to r… The form and measure of that vast God we call Poetry, he who stoops And leaps me through his paper hoo…

Where is the landlord of old Hawk… And what of Master Straddler this… He’s along in the tap—room with br… And ten bold companions all drinki… Where is the daughter of old Hawk…

‘Gabble—gabble, . . . brethren, .… My window frames forest and heathe… I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whethe… The text is praise or exhortation,

‘Gabble—gabble . . . brethren . .… My window glimpses larch and heath… I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whethe… The text is praise or exhortation,

Why do you break upon this old, co… This painted peace of ours, With harsh dress hissing like a fl… With garish flowers? Why do you churn smooth waters rou…