To seem the stranger lies my lot,… Among strangers. Father and mothe… Brothers and sisters are in Chris… And he my peace my parting, sword… England, whose honour O all my he…
How lovely the elder brother’s Life all laced in the other’s, Lóve—laced!—what once I well Witnessed; so fortune fell. When Shrovetide, two years gone,
Cloud—puffball, torn tufts, tossed… Built thoroughfare: heaven—royster… Down roughcast, down dazzling whit… Shivelights and shadowtackle ín lo… Delightfully the bright wind boist…
Nothing is so beautiful as Spring… When weeds, in wheels, shoot long… Thrush’s eggs look little low heav… Through the echoing timber does so… The ear, it strikes like lightning…
My window shews the travelling clo… Leaves spent, new seasons, alter’d… The making and the melting crowds: The whole world passes; I stand b… They do not waste their meted hour…
The best ideal is the true And other truth is none. All glory be ascribèd to The holy Three in One.
Earth, sweet Earth, sweet landsca… And louchéd low grass, heaven that… To, with no tongue to plead, no he… That canst but only be, but dost t… Thou canst but be, but that thou w…
Thou that on sin’s wages starvest, Behold we have the joy in harvest: For us was gather’d the first frui… For us was lifted from the roots, Sheaved in cruel bands, bruised so…
Honour is flashed off exploit, so… And those strokes once that gashed… Should tongue that time now, trump… And, on the fighter, forge his glo… On Christ they do and on the mart…
Now Time’s Andromeda on this rock… With not her either beauty’s equal… Her injury’s, looks off by both ho… Her flower, her piece of being, do… Time past she has been attempted a…
I wake and feel the fell of dark,… What hours, O what black hours we… This night! what sights you, heart… And more must, in yet longer light… With witness I speak this. But wh…
THE LEADEN ECHO HOW to kéep—is there ány any, is… Back beauty, keep it, beauty, beau… Ó is there no frowning of these wr… Dówn? no waving off of these most…
Not, I’ll not, carrion comfort, D… Not untwist —slack they may be —th… In me ór, most weary, cry I can n… Can something, hope, wish day come… But ah, but O thou terrible, why…
The furl of fresh—leaved dogrose d… His cheeks the forth—and—flaunting… Had swarthed about with lion—brown Before the Spring was done. His locks like all a ravel—rope’s—…
Elected Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorlèd ear, Pipe me to pastures still and be The music that I care to hear. Shape nothing, lips; be lovely—dum…
