Bitterly, England must thou griev… Though none of these poor men who… But did within his soul believe That death for thee was glorified. Ever they watched it hovering near…

Three and thirty birds there stood In an elder in a wood; Called Melmillo—flew off three, Leaving thirty in the tree; Called Melmillo—nine now gone,

As I was walking, Thyme sweet to my nose, Green grasshoppers talking, Rose rivalling rose: And wing, like amber,

Now, through the dusk With muffled bell The Dustman comes The World to tell, Night’s elfin lanterns

I spied John Mouldy in his celler… Deep down twenty steps of stone; In the dusk he sat a-smiling Smiling there all alone. He read no book, he snuffed no can…

The far moon maketh lovers wise In her pale beauty trembling down, Lending curved cheeks, dark lips,… A strangeness not their own. And, though they shut their lids t…

One moment take thy rest. Out of mere nought in space Beauty moved human breast To tell in this far face A dream in noonday seen.

‘Who knocks? ’ ‘I, who was beauti… Beyond all dreams to restore, I from the roots of the dark thorn… And knock on the door.’ ‘Who speaks? ’ 'I—once was my spe…

When the rose is faded, Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed, And the sweet smell gone. That vanishing loveliness,

As I mused by the hearthside, Puss said to me; ‘there burns the fire, man, and here sit we. Four walls around us

Sterile these stones By time in ruin laid. Yet many a creeping thing Its haven has made In these least crannies, where fal…

Tom told his dog called Tim to be… And up at once he sat, His two clear amber eyes fixed fas… His haunches on his mat.Tom poise… His nose; then, ‘Trust! ’ says he…

Grief hath pacified her face; Even hope might share so still a p… Yet, on the silence of her heart, Haply, if a strange footfall start… Or a chance word of ecstasy

I think and think: yet still I fa… Why must this lady wear a veil? Why thus elect to mask her face Beneath that dainty web of lace? The tip of a small nose I see,

At the edge of All the Ages A Knight sate on his steed, His armor red and thin with rust His soul from sorrow freed; And he lifted up his visor