O Power to whom this earthly clim… Is but an atom in the whole, O Poet-heart of Space and Time, O Maker and Immortal Soul, Within whose glowing rings are bou…

A little while, a year agone, I knew her for a romping child, A dimple and a glance that shone With idle mischief when she smiled… To-day she passed me in the press,

I saw the city’s towers on a lumin… Beyond them a hill of the softest… With naught but frost and the comi… And a long thin cloud above the co… I sat in the midst of a plain on m…

The frost that stings like fire up… The loneliness of this forsaken gr… The long white drift upon whose po… I sit in the great silence as one… The rippled sheet of snow where th…

Not, not for thee, Belovèd child, the burning grasp… Shall bruise the tender soul. The… And clamor of midday thou shalt no… But wrapped for ever in thy quiet…

Along the waste, a great way off,… Like tall slim priests of storm, s… The low long strip of dolorous red… The under west, where wet winds mo… The cornfields all are brown, and…

The trees rustle; the wind blows Merrily out of the town; The shadows creep, the sun goes Steadily over and down. In a brown gloom the moats gleam;

Heavy with haze that merges and me… Into the measureless depth on eith… The full day rests upon the lumino… In one long noon of golden reverie… Now hath the harvest come and gone…

Under the day-long sun there is li… In the working earth, And the wonderful moon shines brig… Through the soft spring night, The innocent flowers in the limitl…

No girdle hath weaver or goldsmith… So rich as the arms of my love can… No gems with a lovelier lustre fra… Than her eyes, when they answer me… Dear lady of love, be kind to me

Along the narrow sandy height I watch them swiftly come and go, Or round the leafless wood, Like flurries of wind-driven snow, Revolving in perpetual flight,

Once, long ago, before the gods Had left this earth, by stream and… Where the first plough upturned th… Or the lost shepherd strayed, Often to the tired listener’s ear

I lie upon my bed and hear and see… The moon is rising through the gli… And momently a great and sombre br… With a vast voice returning fitful… Comes like a deep-toned grief, and…

The dew is gleaming in the grass, The morning hours are seven, And I am fain to watch you pass, Ye soft white clouds of heaven. Ye stray and gather, part and fold…

Hear me, Brother, gently met; Just a little, turn, not yet, Thou shalt laugh, and soon forget: Now the midnight draweth near. I have little more to tell;