No more of sorrow, the world’s old… Nor war of thronging spirits numbe… Immortal ardours in brief days con… No more the languid fever of manki… To—day I sing: ’tis no melodious…

Stern Power, whose heavy hand I f… Whose infinite, world—urging force… Nor silent pain nor strong appeal Persuades from its imperious cours… Idly I strive with thee; ’tis tho…

Would’st thou this monster, that w… Who round the envied tree of bliss… Lies like a dragon curled In jealous watch, our venture to d… Would’st thou that she were smooth…

The Toy-seller his idle wares Carefully ranges, side by side; With coveting soft earnest airs The children linger, open-eyed. His haunted soul from far away

From the howl of the wind As I opened the door And entered, the firelight Was soft on the floor. Mute each in their places

Water, frolic water! Drops in the dazzle of noon, drops… Radiant down naked breast, down ar… You run to my feet, shaken to shin… Betwixt the green blades, liquid g…

On that long day when England hel… Suddenly gripped at heart And called to choose her part Between her loyal soul and luring… We watched the wide, green—bosomed…

Green banks and gliding river! What air from what far place Comes down your waters’ face And makes your willows shiver? Over me stole a spell,

AN ODE Soul of England, dost thou sleep, Lulled or dulled, thy mighty youth… Of the world’s wine hast thou drun… Hast thou sown more than thy hands…

Beautifully dies the year. Silence sleeps upon the mere: Yellow leaves float on it, stilly As, in June, the opened lily. Brushing o’er the frosty grass

O wailing gust, what hast thou bro… What sting of desolation? But an… And brave was every shy new—opened… Smiling in sun beneath a budding t… Now over black hills the skies sto…

Warm, the deserted evening Closes over the moor. Was it here we walked and were mer… Only an hour before? Magic light in the west

The beeches towering high Greenly cloud the sky. The shadows all are green With living sun unseen. O wonderful the sound

A sultry perfume of voluptuous Ju… Enchants the air still breathing o… But now the impassioned Night dra… To fold me, in this high hollow, q… From oaken groves beneath and glim…

Ah, now this happy month is gone, Not now, my heart, complain, Nor rail at Time because so soon He takes his own again. He takes his own, the weeks, the h…