Half of the grove stood dead, and… Little more than the dead ones mad… If they led to a house, long befor… But they welcomed me; I was glad… Scarce a hundred paces under the t…

Four miles at a leap, over the dar… To the frosted steep of the down a… Travels my eye with equal ease and… And scarce could my body leap four… This is the best and the worst of…

But these things also are Spring’… On banks by the roadside the grass Long-dead that is greyer now Than all the Winter it was; The shell of a little snail bleach…

The last light has gone out of the… This moonlight lying on the grass… Beyond the brink of the tall elm’s… It is as if everything else had sl… Many an age, unforgotten and lost…

The green elm with the one great b… Lets leaves into the grass slip, o… The short hill grass, the mushroom… Harebell and scabious and tormenti… That blackberry and gorse, in dew…

The dim sea glints chill. The whi… And the skeleton weeds and the nev… Rough, long grasses keep white wit… At the hill-top by the finger-post… The smoke of the traveller’s-joy i…

NOW first, as I shut the door, I was alone In the new house; and the wind Began to moan. Old at once was the house,

THE rock-like mud unfroze a littl… Ran and sparkled down each side of… Under the catkins wagging in the h… But earth would have her sleep out… Nor did I value that thin gilding…

The Combe was ever dark, ancient… Its mouth is stopped with brambles… And no one scrambles over the slid… By beech and yew and perishing jun… Down the half precipices of its si…

Now I know that Spring will come… Perhaps to-morrow: however late I… After this night following on such… While still my temples ached from… Of hail and wind, and still the pr…

Fair was the morning, fair our tem… We had seen nothing fairer than th… Though strange, and the untrodden… Wild of the tame, casting out all… Not wild and rustic and old; and w…

No one so much as you Loves this my clay, Or would lament as you Its dying day. You know me through and through

The rain of a night and a day and… Stops at the light Of this pale choked day. The peer… Sees what has been done. The road under the trees has a bor…

A fortnight before Christmas Gyps… Vans were drawn up on wastes, wome… ‘My gentleman,’ said one, 'you’ve… ‘And you’ve a luckier,' I thought… And impudence in rags are lucky.’…

The glory of the beauty of the mor… The cuckoo crying over the untouch… The blackbird that has found it, a… That tempts me on to something swe… White clouds ranged even and fair…