We found the little captain at the… His men lay well-aligned. We touched his hand—stone cold—and… And they, all dead behind, Had never reached their goal, but…

Mother: What’s in that cupboard,… Mary: Which cupboard, mother dear… Mother: The cupboard of red mahog… With handles shining clear. Mary: That cupboard, dearest moth…

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.

Mother: Alice, dear, what ails yo… Dazed and white and shaken? Has the chill night numbed you? Is it fright you have taken? Alice: Mother I am very well,

My familiar ghost again Comes to see what he can see, Critic, son of Conscious Brain, Spying on our privacy. Slam the window, bolt the door,

Dust in a cloud, blinding weather, Drums that rattle and roar! A mother and daughter stood togeth… Beside their cottage door. ‘Mother, the heavens are bright li…

Old Mr. Philosopher Comes for Ben and Claire, An ugly man, a tall man, With bright—red hair. The books that he’s written

Children are dumb to say how hot t… How hot the scent is of the summer… How dreadful the black wastes of e… How dreadful the tall soldiers dru… But we have speech, to chill the a…

Gulp down your wine, old friends o… Roar through the darkness, stamp a… And lay ghost hands on everything, But leave the noonday’s warm sunsh… To living lads for mirth and wine.

If strange things happen where she… So that men say that graves open And the dead walk, or that futurit… Becomes a womb and the unborn are… Such portents are not to be wonder…

One moonlit night a ship drove in, A ghost ship from the west, Drifting with bare mast and lone t… Like a mermaid drest In long green weed and barnacles:

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…

The hunter to the husbandman Pays tribute since our love began, And to love—loyalty dedicates The phantom kills he meditates. Let me embrace, embracing you,

‘Make a song, father, a new little… All for Jenny and Nancy.’ Balow lalow or Hey derry down, Or else what might you fancy? Is there any song sweet enough