Margaret, are you grieving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leaves, like the things of man, yo… With your fresh thoughts care for,… Ah! as the heart grows older

Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I… With thee; but, sir, so what I pl… Why do sinners’ ways prosper? and… Disappointment all I endeavour en… Wert thou my enemy, O thou my fri…

Beyond Mágdalen and by the Bridge… In Summer, in a burst of summerti… Following falls and falls of rain, When the air was sweet—and—sour of… Those goldnails and their gaylinks…

I remember a house where all were… To me, God knows, deserving no su… Comforting smell breathed at very… Fetched fresh, as I suppose, off… That cordial air made those kind p…

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…

When will you ever, Peace, wild w… Your round me roaming end, and und… When, when, Peace, will you, Peac… To own my heart: I yield you do c… That piecemeal peace is poor peace…

HAVE, fair fallen, O fair, fair… To me, so arch—especial a spirit a… An age is now since passed, since… Of the outward sentence low lays h… Not mood in him nor meaning, proud…

What being in rank—old nature shou… That hére pérsonal tells off these… A bush—browed, beetle—brówed bíllo… With a soúth—wésterly wínd blúster… Of crumbling, fore—foundering, thu…

May is Mary’s month, and I Muse at that and wonder why: Her feasts follow reason, Dated due to season— Candlemas, Lady Day;

Repeat that, repeat, Cuckoo, bird, and open ear wells,… With a ballad, with a ballad, a re… Off trundled timber and scoops of… The whole landscape flushes on a s…

The Eurydice—it concerned thee, O… Three hundred souls, O alas! on b… Some asleep unawakened, all un— warned, eleven fathoms fallen Where she foundered! One stroke

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…

Not of all my eyes see, wandering… Is anything a milk to the mind so,… Poetry to it, as a tree whose boug… Say it is ashboughs: whether on a… Fast ór they in clammyish lashtend…

On ear and ear two noises too old… Trench—right, the tide that ramps… With a flood or a fall, low lull—o… Frequenting there while moon shall… Left hand, off land, I hear the l…

Who long for rest, who look for pl… Away from counter, court, or schoo… O where live well your lease of le… But here at, here at Penmaen Pool… You’ll dare the Alp? you’ll dart…