Burned from the ore’€™s rejected d… The iron whitens in the heat. With plangent strokes of pain and… The hammers on the iron beat. Searched by the fire, through deat…

And were they but for this, those… Of joy, that I have nursed? indee… That longings, day and night, have… Now it has come, the hour of bliss… How different it seems!

Where is the land that fathered, n… The sap of a strong race into your… Land of wide tilth, of farms and g… Of old towers chiming over peacefu… It is become a vision, barred away

I am here, and you; The sun blesses us through Leaves made of light. The air is in your hair; You hold a flower.

Lusty life her river pours Along a road of shining shores. The moon of August beams Mild as upon her harvest slopes; b… From man’s full—breath’d abounding…

O what magic shall compare Of the fresh earth or bright air To the joy that love around My full heart so swift has wound, Far beyond hope’s trembling flight

In the high woods that crest our h… Upon a steep, rough slope of fores… Where few flowers grow, sweet bloo… Of the Autumn Crocus, blowing pal… Dim falls the sunlight there;

No sound in all the mountains, all… Yet hush! one delicate sound, minu… Makes the immense Silence draw mo… Some secret ripple of running wate… As a delight that hides from alien…

It was the very heart of Peace th… In the deep minster—bell’s wide—th… When over old roofs evening seemed… Security this world has never foun… Your cloister looked from Caesar’…

In a patch of baked earth At the crumbled cliff’s brink, Where the parching of August Has cracked a long chink, Against the blue void

There is threat in the wind, and a… of water that swells Swift in the hollow: about me a shadow is thrown; For above is no valley sequestered

Hast thou not known them, too, the… Rare moments, such as came to me b… On this clear, breezy evening, whe… Flows through the orchard’s tossin… As though beyond their lifted scre…

All paths lead upward to the sky In this green isle, which mounts o… Through slumbrous valleys, veiled… From waters dancing blue and brigh… And on those leafy paths appear

Ask me not, Dear, what thing it i… That makes me love you so; What graces, what sweet qualities, That from your spirit flow: For I have but this old reply,

The beeches towering high Greenly cloud the sky. The shadows all are green With living sun unseen. O wonderful the sound