I’m not sorry I am older, love—ar… Over all youth’s fuss and flurry, All its everlasting hurry, All its solemn self-importance and… Perhaps we missed the highest reac…

The afternoon is lonely for your f… The pampered morning mocks the day… I was so rich at noon, the sun was… Mine the sad sea that in that rock… Girded us round with blue betrotha…

Spake the Lord Christ-'I will ar… It seemed a saying void and vain– How shall a dead man rise again!- Vain as our tears, vain as our cri… Not one of all the little band

What shall I sing when all is sun… And every tale is told, And in the world is nothing young That was not long since old? Why should I fret unwilling ears

The outside of her garments were o… The lining purple silk, with gilt… Her wide sleeves green, and border… Where Venus in her naked glory st… To please the careless and disdain…

‘We’re going home!' I heard two l… They kissed their friends and bade… I hid the deadly hunger in my eyes… And, lest I might have killed the… Ah, love! we too once gambolled ho…

When all the world has gone awry, And I myself least favour find With my own self, and but to die And leave the whole sad coil behin… Seems but the one and only way;

Art was a palace once, things grea… And strong and holy, found a templ… Now ’tis a lazar-house of leprous… O shall me hear an English song a… Still English larks mount in the…

I bring a message from the stream To fan the burning cheeks of town, From morning’s tower Of pearl and rose I bring this cup of crystal down,

(January 19, 1909) Poet of doom, dementia, and death, Of beauty singing in a charnel hou… Like the lost soul of a poor moon-… With too much loving of some lord…

Stream that leapt and danced Down the rocky ledges, All the summer long, Past the flowered sedges, Under the green rafters,

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…

Autumn and Winter, Summer and Spring— Hath Time no other song to sing? Weary we grow of the changeless tu… June—December,

I see fair women all the day, They pass and pass-and go; I almost dream that they are shade… Within a shadow-show. Their beauty lays no hand on me,

The human heart will never change, The human dream will still go on, The enchanted earth be ever strang… With moonlight and the morning sun… And still the seas shall shout for…