What shall I be?-I will be a knig… Walled up in armour black, With a sword of sharpness, a hamme… And a spear that will not crack– So black, so blank, no glimmer of…

Little Boy Blue lost his way in a… Sing apples and cherries, roses an… He said, 'I would not go back if… It’s all so jolly and funny!’ He sang, ‘This wood is all my own…

I would I were an angel strong, An angel of the sun, hasting along… I would I were just come awake, A child outbursting from night’s d… Or lark whose inward, upward fate

And should the twilight darken int… And sorrow grow to anguish, be tho… Thou art in God, and nothing can… Which a fresh life-pulse cannot se… That thou dost know the darkness,…

In that high country whither thou… Right noble friend, thou walkest w… The gathered great of many a hundr… Few are left like thee-few, I say… Else were thy England soon a Baby…

‘Little one, who straight hast com… Down the heavenly stair, Tell us all about your home, And the father there.’ ‘He is such a one as I,

See how the storm of life ascends Up through the shadow of the world… Beyond our gaze the line extends, Like wreaths of vapour tempest-hur… Grasp tighter, brother, lest the s…

The flush of green that dyed the d… Hath vanished in the moon; Flower-scents float stronger out,… An unborn, coming tune. One southern eve like this, the de…

Oh that a wind would call From the depths of the leafless wo… Oh that a voice would fall On the ear of my solitude! Far away is the sea,

I have only one foot, but thousand… My one foot stands well, but never… I’ve a good many arms, if you coun… But hundreds of fingers, large and… From the ends of my fingers my bea…

WHAT though my words glance side… Which I would utter in thine ear,… Truth in the inward parts thou dos… Wise hunger, not a fitness fine of… The little child that clamouring f…

Now far from my old northern land, I live where gentle winters pass; Where green seas lave a wealthy st… And unsown is the grass ;

It’s all very well, Said the Bell, To be the big Organ below! But the folk come and go, Said the Bell,

With joyful pride her heart is hig… Her humble house doth hold The man her nation’s prophecy Long ages hath foretold! Poor, is he? Yes, and lowly born: