'Tis spring; come out to ramble The hilly brakes around, For under thorn and bramble About the hollow ground The primroses are found.

If truth in hearts that perish Could move the powers on high, I think the love I bear you Should make you not to die. Sure, sure, if stedfast meaning,

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…

The time you won your town the rac… We chaired you through the market-… Man and boy stood cheering by, And home we brought you shoulder-h… To-day, the road all runners come,

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…

He stood, and heard the steeple Sprinkle the quarters on the morni… One, two, three, four, to market-p… It tossed them down. Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour…

Could man be drunk for ever With liquor, love, or fights, Lief should I rouse at morning And lief lie down of nights. But men at whiles are sober

Loitering with a vacant eye Along the Grecian gallery, And brooding on my heavy ill, I met a statue standing still. Still in marble stone stood he,

The fairies break their dances And leave the printed lawn, And up from India glances The silver sail of dawn. The candles burn their sockets,

In my own shire, if I was sad, Homely comforters I had: The earth, because my heart was so… Sorrowed for the son she bore; And standing hills, long to remain…

When I watch the living meet And the moving pageant file Warm and breathing through the str… Where I lodge a little while, If the heats of hate and lust

If in that Syrian garden, ages sl… You sleep, and know not you are de… Nor even in dreams behold how dark… Ascends in smoke and fire by day a… The hate you died to quench and co…

I ‘listed at home for a lancer, Oh who would not sleep with the br… I ’listed at home for a lancer To ride on a horse to my grave. And over the seas we were bidden

Bring, in this timeless grave to t… No cypress, sombre on the snow; Snap not from the bitter yew His leaves that live December thr… Break no rosemary, bright with rim…

The rain, it streams on stone and… The boot clings to the clay. Since all is done that’s due and r… Let’s home; and now, my lad, good-… For I must turn away.