England my mother, Wardress of waters. Builder of peoples, Maker of men,- Hast thou yet leisure

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…

(WITH A VOLUME OF EPIGRA… Unto the Lady of The Nook Fly, tiny book. There thou hast lovers—even thou! Fly thither now.

‘NOT ours,’ say some, 'the though…    Asking no heaven, we fear no fa… Life is a feast, and we have banqu…    Shall not the worms as well? ‘The after-silence, when the feast…

To the eye and the ear of the Dre… This Dream out of darkness flew, Through the horn or the ivory port… But he wist not which of the two. It was the Human Spirit,

Youth! ere thou be flown away. Surely one last boon to-day Thou’lt bestow– One last light of rapture give, Rich and lordly fugitive!

Friend, in whose friendship I am… A debt not time may cancel is your… For was it not your praise that ea… On me obscure, that chivalrous reg… Ev’n his, who, knowing fame’s firs…

Soon may the edict lapse, that on… This dire compulsion of infertile… This hardest penal toil, reluctant… Meanwhile I count you eminently b… Happy from labours heretofore well…

Come hither, who grow cloyed to su… With lyric draughts o’ersweet, fro… On Hybla not Parnassus mountain:… With beakers rinsed of the dulcifl… Hither, and see a magic miracle

Last night the seawind was to me A metaphor of liberty, And every wave along the beach A starlit music seemed to be. To-day the seawind is to me

Yes! urban is your Muse, and owns An empire based on London stones; Yet flow’rs, as mountain violets s… Spring from the pavement 'neath he… Of wilder birth this Muse of mine…

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…

Not here, O teeming City, was it… Thy lover, thy most faithful, shou… But where the multitudinous life-t… Whose ocean-murmur was to him more… Than melody of birds at morn, or b…

I made a little song about the ros… And sang it for the rose to hear, Nor ever marked until the music’s… A lily that was listening near. The red red rose flushed redder wi…

In the night, in the night, When thou liest alone, Ah, the sounds that are blown In the freaks of the breeze, By the spirit that sends