For me, the naked and the nude (By lexicographers construed As synonyms that should express The same deficiency of dress Or shelter) stand as wide apart

Feet and faces tingle In that frore land: Legs wobble and go wingle, You scarce can stand. The skies are jewelled all around,

The silent shepherdess, She of my vows, Here with me exchanging love Under dim boughs. Shines on our mysteries

Come close to me, dear Annie, whi… A tale of burning love between a k… The pot was stalwart iron and the… And though their sides were black… Forget that kettle, Jamie, and th…

Mother: What’s in that cupboard,… Mary: Which cupboard, mother dear… Mother: The cupboard of red mahog… With handles shining clear. Mary: That cupboard, dearest moth…

To bring the dead to life Is no great magic. Few are wholly dead: Blow on a dead man’s embers And a live flame will start.

The cruel Moon hangs out of reach Up above the shadowy beech. Her face is stupid, but her eye Is small and sharp and very sly. Nurse says the Moon can drive you…

Not to sleep all the night long, f… Counting no sheep and careless of… Welcoming the dawn confabulation Of birch, her children, who discus… Fanciful details of the promised c…

Penthesileia, dead of profuse wond… Was despoiled of her arms by Prin… Who, for love of that fierce white… Necrophily on her committed In the public view.

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…

Frowning over the riddle that Dan… Down through the mist hung garden,… The King of Persia walked: oh, th… His mind was webbed with a grey sh… Here for the pride of his soaring…

Sing baloo loo for Jenny And where is she gone? Away to spy her mother’s land, Riding all alone. To the rich towns of Scotland,

Bears gash the forest trees To mark the bounds Of their own hunting grounds; They follow the wild bees Point by point home

Sleepy Betsy from her pillow Sees the post and ball Of her sister’s wooden bedstead Shadowed on the wall. Now this grave young warrior stadn…

Through long nursery nights he sto… By my bed unwearying, Loomed gigantic, formless, queer, Purring in my haunted ear That same hideous nightmare thing,