(To E.M., Who drew them in Ho… From troubles of the world I turn… Beautiful comical things Sleeping or curled Their heads beneath white wings

On Where’s the use to write? What can I tell you, dear? Just that I want you so Who are not near. Just that I miss the lamp whose b…

Sometimes ’tis far off, and someti… Such drummerdery noises too they b… ’Tis odd—oh, I do hope I baint to… Just as the summer months be comin… And buffly chicken out, and bumble…

Here where no tree changes, Here in a prison of pine, I think how Autumn ranges The country that is mine. There—rust upon the chill breeze–

I CAN NOT give you happiness: For wishes long have ceased to bri… The Fortune which to page and kin… They brought in those good centuri… When with a quaint and starry wand

God dreamed a man; Then, having firmly shut Life like a precious metal in his… Withdrew, His labour done. Thus d… Our various divinity and sin.

Dear, rash, warm-hearted friend. So careless of the end, So worldly-foolish, so divinely-wi… Who, caring not one jot For place, gave all you’d got

Bodies of comrade soldiers gleamin… Within the mill-pool where you flo… And lounge around part-clothed or… Beautiful shining forms of men ali… O living lutes stringed with the s…

Old year, farewell! Much have you given which was ill… Much have taken which was dear, so… Much have you spoken which was ill… Echoes of speech first uttered dee…

In general, if you want a man to d… Say, swim the Channel, climb St.… The Bank of England, why, you fin… Than if you merely wanted him to l… But in the British Army, it’s jus…

Moth-like at night you flit or fly To where the other patients lie ; I hear, as you brush by my door The flutter of your wings, no more… Shall I now call you in and see

Comrades of risk and rigour long a… Who have done battle under honour’… Hoped (living or shot down) some m… And wooed bright Danger for a thr… Laugh, oh laugh well, that we have…

Big glory mellowing on the mellowi… And in the Uttle valleys, thatch… Wrought by the manifold and vagran… Of sun and ripening rain and wind… My country, that great magic cup w…

How should I sing you?—you who dw… Within the darkest chamber of my h… What picturesque and inward-turnin… Could shadow forth the image of my… Sweet, world aloof, ineffably sere…

Once, I remember, when we were at… I had come into church, and waited… Ere lastly kneeling to communicate Alone: and thinking that you would… Then, with closed eyes (having rec…