I have long enough been working do… Working spade and pick, boring-chi… I long for wider spaces, airy, cle… Successless labour never the love… More profit surely lies in a holy,…

A still dark joy! A sudden face! Cold daylight, footsteps, cries! The temple’s naked, shining space, Aglare with judging eyes! All in abandoned guilty hair,

Methought I stood among the stars… Watching a grey parched orb which… Half blinded by the dusty winds th… Empty as Death and barren as a st… The pleasant sound of water all un…

Heaven and the sea attend the dyin… And in their sadness overflow and… Faint gold, and windy blue, and gr… Far out amid them my pale soul I… For, as they mingle, so mix life a…

Little one, you must not fret That I take your clothes away; Better sleep you so will get, And at morning wake more gay– Saith the children’s mother.

O Earth, Earth, Earth, I am dying for love of thee, For thou hast given me birth, And thy hands have tended me. I would fall asleep on thy breast

Of the poor bird that cannot fly Kindly you think and mournfully; For prisoners and for exiles all You let the tears of pity fall; And very true the grief should be

‘Bonny lassie, rosy lassie, Ken ye what is care? Had ye ever a thought, lassie, Made yer hertie sair?’ Johnnie said it, Johnnie seekin

Willie speaks. Is it wrong, the wish to be great, For I do wish it so? I have asked already my sister Ka… She says she does not know.

I think I might be weary of this… That comes inevitably every year, The same when I was young and str… The same when I am old and growin… I should grow weary of it every ye…

When the cock crows loud from the… And the moor-cock chirrs from the… What hear ye and see ye then, Ye children of air and ether? 1st Echo

Back shining from the pane, the fi… Seems outside in the snow: So love set free from love’s desir… Lights grief of long ago. The dark is thinned with snow-shee…

This is the sweetness of an April… The softness of the spring is on t… Of the old year. She has no natur… But something comes to her from fa… Out of the Past, and on her old d…

O Peter, wherefore didst thou dou… Indeed the spray flew fast about, But he was there whose walking foo… Could make the wandering hills tak… And he had said, ‘Come down to me…

The dreary wind of night is out, Homeless and wandering slow; O’er pale seas moaning like a doub… It breathes, but will not blow. It sighs from out the helpless pas…