So far from praising he blasphemes Who says that God has been or is, Who swears he met with God in dre… Or face to face in woods and strea… Meshed in their boundaries.
To the woods, to the woods is the… In his grotto the maiden sits alon… She gazes up with a weary smile At the rafter—hanging crocodile, The slowly swinging crocodile.
The great sun sinks behind the tow… Through a red mist of Volnay wine… But what’s the use of setting down That glorious blaze behind the tow… You’ll only skip the page, you’ll…
It is a poet’s privilege and fate To fall enamoured of the one Muse Who variously haunts this island e… She was your mother, Darien, And presaged by the darting halcyo…
Tangled in thought am I, Stumble in speech do I? Do I blunder and blush for the re… Wander aloof do I, Lean over gates and sigh,
All saints revile her, and all sob… Ruled by the God Apollo’s golden… In scorn of which we sailed to fin… In distant regions likeliest to ho… Whom we desired above all things t…
‘Give us Rain, Rain,’ said the be… ‘Not so much Sun, Not so much Sun.’ But the Sun smiles bravely and en… And no rain falls and no waters ru…
Sing baloo loo for Jenny And where is she gone? Away to spy her mother’s land, Riding all alone. To the rich towns of Scotland,
LOOK at my knees, That island rising from the steamy… The candle’s a tall lightship; my… Are boats and barges anchored to t… With mighty cliffs all round;…
Henry, Henry, do you love me? Do I love you, Mary? Oh, can you mean to liken me To the aspen tree. Whose leaves do shake and vary,
As Jesus and his followers Upon a Sabbath morn Were walking by a wheat field They plucked the ears of corn. They plucked it, they rubbed it,
On her shut lids the lightning fli… Thunder explodes above her bed, An inch from her lax arm the rain… Discrete she lies, Not dead but entranced, dreamlessl…
Call it a good marriage — For no one ever questioned Her warmth, his masculinity, Their interlocking views; Except one stray graphologist
We looked, we loved, and therewith… Death became terrible to you and m… By love we disenthralled our natur… From every comfortable philosopher Or tall, grey doctor of divinity:
Love, do not count your labour los… Though I turn sullen, grim, retir… Even at your side; my thought is c… With fancies by old longings fired… And when I answer you, some days
