Double red daisies, they’re my flo… Which nobody else may grow. In a big quarrelsome house like ou… They try it sometimes—but no, I root them up because they’re my…

‘Gabble—gabble, . . . brethren, .… My window frames forest and heathe… I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whethe… The text is praise or exhortation,

Down in the mud I lay, Tired out by my long day Of five damned days and nights, Five sleepless days and nights,… Dream—snatched, and set me where

Owls —they whinny down the night; Bats go zigzag by. Ambushed in shadow beyond sight The outlaws lie. Old gods, tamed to silence, there

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…

Nine of the clock, oh! Wake my lazy head! Your shoes of red morocco, Your silk bed—gown: Rouse, rouse, speck—eyed Mary

Those who dare give nothing Are left with less than nothing; Dear heart, you give me everything… Which leaves you more than everyth… Though those who dare give nothing

He, of his gentleness, Thirsting and hungering Walked in the Wilderness; Soft words of grace he spoke Unto lost desert—folk

You young friskies who today Jump and fight in Father’s hay With bows and arrows and wooden sp… Playing at Royal Welch Fusiliers… Happy though these hours you spend…

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…

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.

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,

Feet and faces tingle In that frore land: Legs wobble and go wingle, You scarce can stand. The skies are jewelled all around,

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.