I have golden shoes To make me fleet. They are like the wind Underneath my feet. When my lover’s kiss

Each morning I pass on my way to… A clock in a tower And I look towards it with anxiou… To make sure of the hour. But the sun gets up at the back of…

Great crane o’ertopping the delica… Why do you seem so fair, Swaying and raising your load with… High in the misty air? You are a wonder of pearl and grey

I am no mystic. All the ways of G… Are dark to me. I know not if he lived or if he di… In agony. My every act has reference to man.

When day is over I climb up the stair, Take off my dark dress, Pull down my hair, Open my window

To Plato’s dictum Assent she lends. All things in common We hold, as friends. I share her riches.

I read a statement in a newspaper That Twentyman, the manufacturer, Found it was cheaper to deliver go… By horse and lorry than by motor-t… Or motor-van. So he had sold his…

One summer day, along the street, Men pruned the gums To make them neat. The tender branches, white with fl… Lay in the sun

I must be dreaming through the day… And see the world with childish ey… If I’d go singing all my life And my songs be wise And in the kitchen or the house

‘Raging winter wind Let loose in springtime What is the message your cold touc… Spite of days and dreams, Warm and easy and sublime,

Today, in class, I read aloud to forty little boys The legend of King Croesus’ boast… They were so young, Restless, and eager, I believed t…

Florence kneels down to say her pr… At night. I wonder what she says and why she… To pray at night. I think when she kneels down to pr…

Oh, oh Rosalie, Oh, oh Rosalie, What would you have of me? Oh, oh Rosalie. I have kisses fine,

All through the day at my machine There still keeps going A strange little tune through hear… As I sit sewing: ‘There is a child in Hungary,

She is not of the fireside, My lovely love; Nor books, nor even a cradle, She bends above. No, she is bent with lashes,