As the clouds that are so light, Beautiful, swift, and bright, Cast shadows on field and park Of the earth that is so dark, And even so now, light one!

I have come a long way to-day: On a strange bridge alone, Remembering friends, old friends, I rest, without smile or moan, As they remember me without smile…

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…

The flowers left thick at nightfal… This Eastertide call into mind th… Now far from home, who, with their… Have gathered them and will do nev…

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…

TALL nettles cover up, as they h… These many springs, the rusty harr… Long worn out, and the roller made… Only the elm butt tops the nettles… This corner of the farmyard I lik…

Gone the wild day: A wilder night Coming makes way For brief twilight. Where the firm soaked road

It was upon a July evening. At a stile I stood, looking along… Over the country by a second Spri… Drenched perfect green again. ‘Th… Will be a fine one.’ So the stran…

t stood in the sunset sky Like the straight-backed down, Many a time - the barn At the edge of town, So huge and dark that it seemed

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

Thinking of her had saddened me at… Until I saw the sun on the celand… Redoubled, and she stood up like a… A living thing, not what before I… The shadow I was growing to love…

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,…

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

Yes, I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up… Unwontedly. It was late June. The steam hissed. Someone cleared…

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…