BE in me as the eternal moods of the bleak wind, and not As transient things are— gaiety of flowers. Have me in the strong loneliness

Earth’s winter cometh And I being part of all And sith the spirit of all moveth… I must needs bear earth’s winter Drawn cold and grey with hours

Jove, be merciful to that unfortun… Or an ornamental death will be hel… The time is come, the air heaves i… The dry earth pants against the ca… But this heat is not the root of t…

The spring, my dear, Is no longer spring. Does the blackbird sing What he sang last year? Are the skies the old

For I was a gaunt, grave councill… Being in all things wise, and very… But I have put aside this folly a… That old age weareth for a cloak. I was quite strong—at least they s…

The salmon-trout drifts in the str… The soul of the salmon-trout float… Like a little wafer of light. The salmon moves in the sun-shot,… As light as the shadow of the fish

You came in out of the night And there were flowers in your han… Now you will come out of a confusi… Out of a turmoil of speech about y… I who have seen you amid the prima…

‘We are 'ere met together in this momentous hower, Ter lick th’ bankers’ dirty boots an’ keep the Bank in power. We are 'ere met together

If all the grief and woe and bitte… All dolour, ill and every evil cha… That ever came upon this grieving… Were set together they would seem… Against the death of the young En…

Let us build here an exquisite fri… The flame, the autumn, and the gre… Fought out their strife here, ’tis… Where these have been, meet ’tis,…

“Tout aux tavernes et aux filles.” Suppose you screeve? or go cheap-j… Or fake the broads? or fig a nag? Or thimble-rig? or knap a yack? Or pitch a snide? or smash a rag?

Trees and the menace of night; Then a long, lonely, leaden mere Backed by a desolate fell, As by a spectral battlement; and t… Low-brooding, interpenetrating all…

I had over prepared the event, that much was ominous. With middle—ageing care I had laid out just the right book… I had almost turned down the pages…

Lived on one’s back, In the long hours of repose, Life is a practical nightmare - Hideous asleep or awake. Shoulders and loins

1 his papier-mâché, which you see,… Saith ’twas the worthiest of edito… Its mind was made up in 'the seven… Nor hath it ever since changed tha… It works to represent that school…