A-sway, On red rose, A golden butterfly. . And on my heart a butterfly Night-wing’d.

Not spring’s Thou art, but hers, Most cool, most virginal, Winter’s, with thy faint breath, t… Rose-tinged.

No guile? Nay, but so strangely He moves among us. . Not this Man but Barabbas! Release to us Barabbas!

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

(1) The rose new-opening saith, And the dew of the morning saith, (Fallen leaves and vanished dew) Remember death.

Ere the horne’d owl hoot Once and twice and thrice there sh… Go among the blind brown worms News of thy great burial; When the pomp is passed away,

Great Kings were dust and all the… Did my harp’s taut and burnished s… The fragrance of dead ladies’ love… Blew never down but for my lute.

Thou hast Drawn laughter from A well of secret tears And thence so elvish it rings, –mo… And sweet.

Not thou, White rose, but thy Ensanguined sister is The dear companion of my heart’s Shed blood.

And the centurion who stood by sai… Truly this was a son of God. Not long ago but everywhere I go There is a hill and a black windy… Portent of hill, sky, day’s eclips…

Art thou Not kin to him Who loved Mark’s wife and both Died for it? O, thou harper in Green woods?

Heard ye the maidens Went through the meadows, Early, O, early, While yet the dew was Wet on the grass?

The shadowy boy of night Crosses the dusking land; He sows his poppy-seeds With steady, gentle hand. The shadowy boy of night

Three grey women walk with me Fate and Grief and Memory. My fate brought grief; my grief mu… With me through Eternity, Such thy power, memory.

Look up . . . From bleakening hills Blows down the light, first breath Of wintry wind . . . look up, and… The snow!