#English
I thought, before my sunlit twenti… That I knew Love, and Death that… And my young broken heart in littl… Dew-like, I poured, and waited fo… Wildly-and waited-being then ninet…
Songs I sang of lordly matters, Life and death, and stars and sea; Nothing of them now remains But the song I sang for thee. Vain the learned elaborate metres,
Who dough shall knead as for God’… Shall fill it with celestial leave… And every loaf that she shall bake Be eaten of the Blest in heaven.
(WESTMINSTER, OCTOBER 12,… Great man of song, whose glorious… Within the lap of death sleeps wel… Down the dark road, seeking the de… Thy faithful, fearless, shining so…
Little chipmunk, do you know All you mean to me?— She and I and Long Ago, And you there in the tree; With that nut between your paws,
‘How many queens have ruled and pa… Since first we met; How thick and fast The letters used to come at first, How thin at last;
Come, my Celia, let us prove, While we may, how wise is love— Love grown old and grey with years… Love whose blood is thinned with t… Philosophic lover I,
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,
I meant to do my work to—day— But a brown bird sang in the apple… And a butterfly flitted across the… And all the leaves were calling me… And the wind went sighing over the…
Always thy book, too late acknowle… Now when thine eyes no earthly pag… Blinded with death, or blinded wit… Of love’s own lore celestial. Sma… Forsooth, for thee to read my eart…
When leaf and flower are newly mad… And bird and butterfly and bee Are at their summer posts again; When all is ready, lo! ’tis she, Suddenly there after soft rain–
Who was it swept against my door j… With rustling robes like Autumn’s… Ah! would it were thy gown against… Only thy gown once more. Sometimes the snow, sometimes the…
I dwell, with all things great and… The green earth and the lustral ai… The sacred spaces of the sea, Day in, day out, companion me. Pure-faced, pure-thoughted, folk a…
I will walk down to the valley And lay my head in her breast, Where are two white doves, The Queen of Love’s, In a silken nest;
O bird that somewhere yonder sings… In the dim hour 'twixt dreams and… Lone in the hush of sleeping thing… In some sky sanctuary withdrawn; Your perfect song is too like pain…