The cherry trees bend over and are… On the old road where all that pas… Their petals, strewing the grass a… This early May morn when there is…

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…

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…

Like the touch of rain she was On a man’s flesh and hair and eyes When the joy of walking thus Has taken him by surprise: With the love of the storm he burn…

What matter makes my spade for tea… Letting down two clay pipes into t… The one I smoked, the other a sol… Of Blenheim, Ramillies, and Malp… Perhaps. The dead man’s immortali…

All day and night, save winter, ev… Above the inn, the smithy and the… The aspens at the cross-roads talk… Of rain, until their last leaves f… Out of the blacksmith’s cavern com…

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 skylarks are far behind that s… I can hear no more those suburb ni… Thrushes and blackbirds sing in th… In vain: the noise of man, beast,… But the call of children in the un…

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…

At hawthorn-time in Wiltshire tra… In search of something chance woul… An old man’s face, by life and wea… And coloured, - rough, brown, swee… A land face, sea-blue-eyed, - hung…

Over the land freckled with snow h… The speculating rooks at their nes… And saw from elm-tops, delicate as… What we below could not see, Wint…

IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour

DOWNHILL I came, hungry, and y… Cold, yet had heat within me that… Against the north wind; tired, yet… Had seemed the sweetest thing unde… Then at the inn I had food, fire,…

The two men in the road were taken… The lovers came out shading their… And never was white so white, or b… As her cheeks and hair. ‘There ar… A man might turn into a wood for,…

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…