#English
Everyone grumbled. The sky was g… We had nothing to do and nothing t… We were nearing the end of a disma… And there seemed to be nothing bey… THEN
(It is supposed that Shadow-of-a-… more ancient sense of ‘beautiful.’… As along a dark pine-bough, in sle… The moon lay to listen, above the… In a deep dreaming wood that is ol…
The moon is up, the stars are brig… the wind is fresh and free! We’re out to seek the gold tonight across the silver sea! The world is growing grey and old:
Sherwood in the twilight, is Robi… Grey and ghostly shadows are glidi… Shadows of the dappled deer, dream… Dreaming of a shadowy man that win… Robin Hood is here again: all his…
Fashion on fashion on fashion, (With only the truth growing old!) And here’s the new purple of passi… (And love waiting out in the cold) Who’ll buy?
They are buffeting out in the bitt… —Blow the man down, bullies, blow… Sea-lark singing to Golden Feather,
How few are they that voyage throu… On that eternal quest, For that strange light beyond our… That rest beyond our rest. And they who, seeking beauty, once…
Here Freedom stood by slaughte… And, ere the wrath paled or that s… Looked through the ages; then, wit… Laid them to wait that future, sid… (Lines for a monument to the Amer…
When leaves broke out on the wild… And bells for matins rung, Sorrow came to the old friar –Hundreds of years ago it was! – And May came to the young.
_Why do we make our music?_ Oh, blind dark strings reply: Because we dwell in a strange land And remember a lost sky. We ask no leaf of the laurel,
There came a crowder to the Merma… One dark May night, Fiddling a tune that quelled our m… With quaint delight, It haunts me yet, as old lost airs…
Give me the sunlight and the sea And who shall take my heaven from… Light of the Sun, Life of the Su… O happy, bold companion, Whose golden laughters round me ru…
(Written after hearing a line of… under the palms of Southern Calif… Under the palms of San Diego Where gold-skinned Mexicans loll… And the red half-moons of their bl…
How like the sky she bends above h… One with the great horizon of her… No sob from our low seas where woe… No weeping cloud, no momentary rai… Can mar the heaven-high visage of…
Trumpeter, sound for the last Cru… Sound for the fire of the red-cros… Sound for the passion, the splendo… That swept the world for a dead M… Sound, till the answering trumpet…
