#English
Onward led the road again Through the sad uncoloured plain Under twilight brooding dim, And along the utmost rim Wall and rampart risen to sight
He would not stay for me, and who… He would not stay for me to stand… I shook his hand, and tore my hear… And went with half my life about m…
You smile upon your friend to-day, To-day his ills are over; You hearken to the lover’s say, And happy is the lover. 'Tis late to hearken, late to smil…
The lad came to the door at night, When lovers crown their vows, And whistled soft and out of sight In shadow of the boughs. “I shall not vex you with my face
It nods and curtseys and recovers When the wind blows above, The nettle on the graves of lovers That hanged themselves for love. The nettle nods, the wind blows ov…
Soldier from the wars returning, Spoiler of the taken town, Here is ease that asks not earning… Turn you in and sit you down. Peace is come and wars are over,
From far, from eve and morning And yon twelve-winded sky, The stuff of life to knit me Blew hither: here am I. Now—for a breath I tarry
“Far I hear the bugle blow To call me where I would not go, And the guns begin the song, ‘Soldier, fly or stay for long.’ ”Comrade, if to turn and fly
The Sun at noon to higher air, Unharnessing the silver Pair That late before his chariot swam, Rides on the gold wool of the Ram… So braver notes the storm-cock sin…
White in the moon the long road li… The moon stands blank above; White in the moon the long road li… That leads me from my love. Still hangs the hedge without a gu…
The chestnut casts his flambeaux,… Stream from the hawthorn on the wi… The doors clap to, the pane is bli… Pass me the can, lad; there’s an e… There’s one spoilt spring to scant…
Into my heart an air that kills From yon far country blows: What are those blue remembered hil… What spires, what farms are those? That is the land of lost content,
The sloe was lost in flower, The April elm was dim; That was the lover’s hour, The hour for lies and him. If thorns are all the bower,
“Farewell to barn and stack and tr… Farewell to Severn shore. Terence, look your last at me, For I come home no more. ”The sun burns on the half-mown hi…
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough… And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and te…
