Burdock, Blue aconite, And thistle and thorn. .of these Singing I wreathe my pretty wreat… O’death.

I know Not these my hands And yet I think there was A woman like me once had hands Like these.

The cold With steely clutch Grips all the land. .alack The little people in the hills Will die!

My songs to sell, sweet maid! I pray you buy. Here’s one will win a lady’s tears… Here’s one will make her gay, Here’s one will charm your true lo…

With swift Great sweep of her Magnificent arm my pain Clanged back the doors that shut m… From life.

As it Were tissue of silver I’ll wear, O Fate, thy grey, And go mistily radiant, clad Like the moon.

Thou beautiful and ivory gates That shut my tears away from me - Even, at last, such refuge yield That great, safe doors of Ebony.

A flickering light near spent Her pale hand bore. Have you seen Angelique? Will she know the place Dead feet must find,

In your Curled petals what ghosts Of blue headlands and seas, What perfumed immortal breath sigh… Of Greece.

What words Are left thee then Who hast squandered on thy Forgetfulness eternity’s I Love?

Musicians O Musicians: Heartseas… Heartsease: an you will have me li… Light wind in the small green leav… Play, oh play, my sad heart ease; Birds, shake from your wilding thr…

The sun is warm today, O Romulus, and on Thine older Palentine the birds Still sing.

Joy! Joy! Joy! The hills are glad, The valleys re-echo with merriment… In my heart is the sound of laught… And my feet dance to the time of i…

These be three silent things: The falling snow . . . the hour Before the dawn . . . the mouth of… Just dead.

Oh me, Was there a time When Paradise knew Eve In this sweet guise, so placid and