It was the Great Alexander, Capped with a golden helm, Sate in the ages, in his floating… In a dead calm. Voices of sea-maids singing

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…

Dim-berried is the mistletoe With globes of sheenless grey, The holly mid ten thousand thorns Smoulders its fires away; And in the manger Jesus sleeps

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

That one, alone, Who’s dared and gone To seek the Magic Wonderstone, No fear, or care, Or black despair

If you would happy company win, Dangle a palm-nut from a tree, Idly in green to sway and spin, Its snow-pulped kernel for bait; a… A nimble titmouse enter in.

I was at peace until you came And set a careless mind aflame; I lived in quiet; cold, content; All longing in safe banishment, Until your ghostly lips and eyes

In sea-cold Lyonesse, When the Sabbath eve shafts down On the roofs, walls, belfries Of the foundered town, The Nereids pluck their lyres

See this house, how dark it is Beneath its vast-boughed trees! Not one trembling leaflet cries To that Watcher in the skies— ‘Remove, remove thy searching gaze…

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…

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

“Once... Once upon a time...” Over and over again, Martha would tell us her stories, In the hazel glen. Hers were those clear gray eyes

It’s a very odd thing - As odd can be - That whatever Miss T eats Turns into Miss T.; Porridge and apples,

Upon this leafy bush With thorns and roses in it, Flutters a thing of light, A twittering linnet. And all the throbbing world

Who said, “Peacock Pie”? The old King to the sparrow: Who said, “Crops are ripe”? Rust to the harrow: Who said, “Where sleeps she now?