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…

All day, all day, round the clacki… The weaver’s fingers fly: Gray dreams like frozen mists are… In the hush of the weaver’s eye; A voice from the dusk is calling y…

On such a day the shrunken stream Spends its last water and runs dry… Clouds like far turrets in a dream Stand baseless in the burning sky. On such a day at every rod

The world in gloom and splendour p… And thou in the midst of it with b… A creature of that old distorted d… That makes the sound of life an ev… Good men perform just deeds, and b…

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

Comfort the sorrowful with watchfu… In silence, for the tongue cannot… Vex not his wounds with rhetoric,… Worn truths, that are but maddenin… To him whose grief outmasters all…

Beloved, those who moan of love’s… Shall find but little grace with m… Who know too well this passion’s t… To deem that it shall lightly pass… A moment’s interlude in life’s dul…

Didst thou not tease and fret me t… Sweet spirit of this summer-circle… With that quiet voice of thine tha… Its meaning, though I mused and s… But now I am content to let it go…

I love the warm bare earth and all That works and dreams thereon: I love the seasons yet to fall: I love the ages gone, The valleys with the sheeted grain…

O doubts, dull passions, and base… That harassed and oppressed the da… Ye poor remorses and vain tears, That shook this house of clay: All heaven to the western bars

Out of the gray northwest, where m… Ye tugged and howled in your tempe… And evermore the huge frost giants… Your wizard guards in vigilance un… Out of the gray northwest, for now…

Once ye were happy, once by many a… Wherever Glooscap’s gentle feet m… Lulled by his presence like a drea… Floating at rest; but that was lon… He was too good for earthly men; h…

Beside the pounding cataracts Of midnight streams unknown to us ’Tis builded in the leafless tract… And valleys huge of Tartarus. Lurid and lofty and vast it seems;

Mother of balms and soothings mani… Quiet-breathed night whose broodin… To whom the voices of all rest are… And those few stars whose scattere… Far off beyond the westward hills…

With what doubting eyes, oh sparro… Thou regardest me, Underneath yon spray of yarrow, Dipping cautiously. Fear me not, oh little sparrow,