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

I have minded me Of the noon-day brightness, And the cricket’s drowsy Singing in the sunshine. . I have minded me

Grey gaolers are my griefs That will not let me free; The bitterness of tears Is warder unto me. I may not leap or run;

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

Keep thou Thy tearless watch All night but when blue-dawn Breathes on the silver moon, then… Then weep!

THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?

All day, all day I brush My golden strands of hair; All day I wait and wait.. Ah, who is there? Who calls? Who calls? The gold

If illness’ end be health regained… Will pay you, Asculapeus, when I…

In the cold I will rise, I will b… In waters of ice; myself Will shiver, and shrive myself, Alone in the dawn, and anoint Forehead and feet and hands;

Too far afield thy search. Nay, t… At thine own elbow potent Memory… Thy double, and eternity is cupped In the pale hollow of those ghostl…

Still as On windless nights The moon-cast shadows are, So still will be my heart when I Am dead.

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

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.

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…

JUST now, Out of the strange Still dusk . . . as strange, as st… A white moth flew . . . Why am I… So cold?