Had I the fabled herb That brought to life the dead, Whom would I dare disturb In his eternal bed? Great Grenville would I wake,

March, that comes roaring, maned,… And bleatingly withdraws; March,—'tis the year’s fantastic n… That, born when frost hath nipped The shivering fields, or tempest s…

Dawn - and a magical stillness: on… On the waters a vast Content, as… In the heavens a silence that seem… But a thing with form and body, a… Yet I know that I dwell in the mi…

That night he dreamed that over hi… A change miraculous, whereby his s… Was parted from his body for a spa… And through a labyrinth of secret… Entered the world where dead men’s…

So, into Cornwall you go down, And leave me loitering here in tow… For me, the ebb of London’s wave, Not ocean-thunder in Cornish cave… My friends (save only one or two)

’Twas at this season, year by year… The singer who lies songless here Was wont to woo a less austere, Less deep repose, Where Rotha to Winandermere

As some most pure and noble face, Seen in the thronged and hurrying… Sheds o’er the world a sudden grac… A flying odour sweet, Then, passing, leaves the cheated…

So, being risen, the Prince in br… Forth to the market-place, where b… Of them that bought and them that… Of many sounds in murmurous union– buzzing as of bees about their hiv…

SHE stands, a thousand-wintered t… By countless morns impearled; Her broad roots coil beneath the s… Her branches sweep the world; Her seeds, by careless winds conve…

Behold life builded as a goodly ho… And grown a mansion ruinous With winter blowing through its cr… The master paceth up and down his… And in the empty hours

When birds were songless on the bo… I heard thee sing. The world was full of winter, thou Wert full of spring. To-day the world’s heart feels ane…

And these-are these indeed the end… This grinning skull, this heavy lo… Do all green ways whereby we wend Lead but to yon ignoble home? Ah well! Thine eyes invite to bli…

The old rude church, with bare, ba… Beneath its shadow high-born Roth… Rotha, remembering well who slumbe… And with cool murmur lulling his r… Rotha, remembering well who slumbe…

Spouse whom my sword in the olden… Winning me hatred more sharp than… Mother of children who hiss at or… Curse or revile me, and hold me ab… Heiress of anger that nothing assu…

About this heart thou hast Thy chains made fast, And think’st thou I would be Therefrom set free, And forth unbound be cast?