#English
f I were to own this countryside As far as a man in a day could rid… And the Tyes were mine for giving… Wingle Tye and Margaretting Tye, - and Skreens, Gooshays, and…
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…
Often I had gone this way before But now it seemed I never could b… And never had been anywhere else; ’Twas home; one nationality We had, I and the birds that sang…
Some day, I think, there will be… In Froxfield to pick all the blac… Out of the hedges of Green Lane,… Broad lane where now September hi… In bracken and blackberry, harebel…
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…
WHAT does it mean? Tired, angry,… No man, woman, or child alive coul… Me now. And yet I almost dare to… Because I sit and frame an epitap… ‘Here lies all that no one loved o…
‘He rolls in the orchard: he is st… And with earth, the solitary old w… Where is his father and where is h… Among all the brown horses? Has h… I know the swallow, the hawk, and…
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…
She is most fair, And when they see her pass The poets’ ladies Look no more in the glass But after her.
I built myself a house of glass: It took my years to make it: And I was proud. But now, alas! Would God someone would break it. But it looks too magnificent.
That’s the cuckoo, you say. I can… When last I heard it I cannot rec… Too well the year when first I fa… It was drowned by my man groaning… Ten times with an angry voice he s…
One hour: as dim he and his house… As a reflection in a rippling broo… While I remember him; but first,… Empty it sounded. It was dark wit… That brushed the walls and made th…
Mother, the root of this little ye… Among the stones has the taste of… Things are strange to-day on the c… And the grasshopper works at his s… So hard. Here’s one on my hand, m…
The sorrow of true love is a great… And true love parting blackens a b… Yet almost they equal joys, since… Is but hope blinded by its tears,… Above the storm the heavens wait t…
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,…