I LOVE roads: The goddesses that dwell Far along invisible Are my favourite gods. Roads go on

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…

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…

This is no case of petty right or… That politicians or philosophers Can judge. I hate not Germans, no… With love of Englishmen, to pleas… Beside my hate for one fat patriot

The green roads that end in the fo… Are strewn with white goose feathe… Life marks left behind by someone… To show his track. But he has nev… Down each green road a cottage loo…

Seated once by a brook, watching a… Chiefly that paddled, I was thus… Mellow the blackbird sang and shar… Not far off in oak and hazel brush… Unseen. There was a scent like ho…

Under the after-sunset sky Two pewits sport and cry, More white than is the moon on hig… Riding the dark surge silently; More black than earth. Their cry

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 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…

Is this the road that climbs above… Round what was once a chalk-pit: n… By accident an amphitheatre. Some ash trees standing ankle-deep… And bramble act the parts, and nei…

Unless it was that day I never kn… Ambition. After a night of frost,… The March sun brightened and the… Jackdaws began to shout and float… Already, and one was racing straig…

‘He has robbed two clubs. The jud… Can’t give him more than he undoub… Deserves. The scoundrel! Look at… A lady-killer! Hanging’s too good… For such as he.' So said the stra…

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

Harry, you know at night The larks in Castle Alley Sing from the attic’s height As if the electric light Were the true sun above a summer v…

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…