O goat—foot God of Arcady! This modern world is grey and old, And what remains to us of thee? No more the shepherd lads in glee Throw apples at thy wattled fold,

How steep the stairs within Kings… For exile—wearied feet as mine to… And O how salt and bitter is the… Which falls from this Hound’s tab… That I had died in the red ways o…

Two crowned Kings, and One that s… With no green weight of laurels ro… But with sad eyes as one uncomfort… And wearied with man’s never-ceasi… For sins no bleating victim can at…

Oft have we trod the vales of Cas… And heard sweet notes of sylvan mu… From antique reeds to common folk… And often launched our bark upon t… Which the nine Muses hold in empe…

Beautiful star with the crimson li… And flagrant daffodil hair, Come back, come back, in the shaki… O’er the much—overrated sea, To the hearts that are sick for th…

Was this His coming! I had hoped… A scene of wondrous glory, as was… Of some great God who in a rain o… Broke open bars and fell on Danae… Or a dread vision as when Semele

Under the rose—tree’s dancing shad… There stands a little ivory girl, Pulling the leaves of pink and pea… With pale green nails of polished… The red leaves fall upon the mould…

The apple trees are hung with gold… And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold… The wild goat runs across the wold… But yesterday his love he told,

It is full summer now, the heart o… Not yet the sun—burnt reapers are… Upon the upland meadow where too s… Rich autumn time, the season’s usu… Will lend his hoarded gold to all…

It was night—time and He was alon… And He saw afar—off the walls of… city. And when He came near He heard wi… feet of joy, and the laughter of t…

O well for him who lives at ease With garnered gold in wide domain, Nor heeds the splashing of the rai… The crashing down of forest trees. O well for him who ne’er hath know…

Is it thy will that I should wax… Barter my cloth of gold for hodden… And at thy pleasure weave that web… Whose brightest threads are each a… Is it thy will—Love that I love s…

The seasons send their ruin as the… For in the spring the narciss show… Nor withers till the rose has flam… And in the autumn purple violets b… And the slim crocus stirs the wint…

The Thames nocturne of blue and g… Changed to a Harmony in grey: A barge with ochre—coloured hay Dropt from the wharf: and chill an… The yellow fog came creeping down

Her ivory hands on the ivory keys Strayed in a fitful fantasy, Like the silver gleam when the pop… Rustle their pale—leaves listlessl… Or the drifting foam of a restless…