#English
Waiting in the woodland, watching… Thinking every leaf that stirs the… Thinking every whisper the rustle… How my heart goes up and up, and t… First it is a squirrel, then it is…
The peril of fair faces all his da… No man shall 'scape: be it for joy… Each is the thrall of some predest… Divinely doomed to work his overth… Transiently fair, as flowers in ga…
(_Ballade a double refrain_) Marshal of France, yet still the… Comrade at arms, on your bronzed c… The soldier’s kiss, and drop the s… Brother by brother fought we in th…
Sore in need was I of a faithful… And it seemed to me that life Had come to its much desired end– Just then God gave me a wife. I had seen the beauty of fairy thi…
Why did she marry him? Ah, say wh… How was her fancy caught? What was the dream that he drew he… Or was she only bought? Gave she her gold for a girlish wh…
Through the dark wood There came to me a friend, Bringing in his cold hands Two words-'The End.’ His face was fair
Winter that hath few friends yet n… Of spirit erect and delicate of ey… All may applaud sweet Summer, wit… And Autumn, with her banners in t… But when from the earth’s cheek th…
Autumn and Winter, Summer and Spring— Hath Time no other song to sing? Weary we grow of the changeless tu… June—December,
April is in the world again, And all the world is filled with f… Flowers for others, not for me! For my one flower I cannot see, Lost in the April showers.
(TO THE OMAR KHAYYAM CLU Great Omar, here to-night we drai… Unto thy long-since transmigrated… Ours all unworthy in thy place to… Ours still to read in life’s encha…
(TO JAMES WELCH) Dear Desk, Farewell! I spoke you… In phrases neither sweet nor soft, But at the end I come to see That thou a friend hast been to me…
To James Ashcroft Noble, Poet and Critic, a small acknowle… unforgotten kindness Inscriptions Poet, a truce to your song!
LOUD mockers in the roaring stre… Say Christ is crucified again: Twice pierced His gospel-bearing… Twice broken His great heart i… I hear, and to myself I smile,
In vain with whip and knotted cord The hirelings of hypocrisy Would make us comely for the Lord… Think ye God works through such a… Paid Puritan, plump Pharisee,
Silence, whose drowsy eyelids are… And whose half-sleeping eyes are t… On whose still breast the water-li… For all her speech the whisper of… Made of all things that in the wat…