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

‘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,

Most venerable and learned sir, Tall and true Philosopher, These rings of smoke you blow all… With such deep thought, what sense… Small friend, with prayer and medi…

She let her golden ball fall down… And begged a cold frog to retrieve… For which she kissed his ugly, gap… Indeed, he could scarce believe it… And seeing him transformed to his…

Owls —they whinny down the night; Bats go zigzag by. Ambushed in shadow beyond sight The outlaws lie. Old gods, tamed to silence, there

O the clear moment, when from the… A word flies, current immediately Among friends; or when a loving gi… As the identical wish nearest the… Or when a stone, volleyed in sudde…

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…

Children born of fairy stock Never need for shirt or frock, Never want for food or fire, Always get their hearts desire: Jingle pockets full of gold,

…but I was dead, an hour or more. I woke when I’d already passed th… That Cerberus guards, and half—wa… To Lethe, as an old Greek signpos… Above me, on my stretcher swinging…

She, then, like snow in a dark nig… Fell secretly. And the world wake… With dazzling of the drowsy eye, So that some muttered 'Too much l… And drew the curtains close.

The bards falter in shame, their r… Stumbles, with marrow—bones the dr… Pelt them for their delay. It is a something fearful in the s… Plagues them —an unknown grief tha…

The youngest poet down the shelves… In a dim library, just behind the… From which the ancient poet was mu… A song about some Lovers at a Fai… Pulling his long white beard and g…

Nine of the clock, oh! Wake my lazy head! Your shoes of red morocco, Your silk bed—gown: Rouse, rouse, speck—eyed Mary

‘Edward back from the Indian Sea, What have you brought for Nancy?’ ‘A rope of pearls and a gold earri… And a bird of the East that will… A carven tooth, a box with a key—’