It was the very heart of Peace th… In the deep minster—bell’s wide—th… When over old roofs evening seemed… Security this world has never foun… Your cloister looked from Caesar’…

O Thou who seekest me Through the day’s heartless hurry… Who followest me to my thought’s f… Nay, who art gone before— Sustain me, O sustain

Name, that makes my heart beat, Heard by chance in the throng’d st… How delighted I turn to greet The vision adored, the vision rare… That surely should be where thou a…

What boat is this that bears My soul on an ocean, fanned By new arriving airs From an undiscovered land? Is this Love’s magic boat, and th…

For Mercy, Courage, Kindness, Mi… There is no measure upon earth. Nay, they wither, root and stem, If an end be set to them. Overbrim and overflow,

A present from tropical Annam, A bird with a human speech, A gloriously plumed cockatoo Rosy as the flower of a peach! And they did what they also do

I am weary of doing and dating The day with the thing to be done, This painful self translating To a language not my own. Give me to fashion a thing;

Of a tower, of a tower, white In the warm Italian night, Of a tower that shines and springs I dream, and of our delight. Of doves, of a hundred wings

Day begins cold and misty on soile… That frost has ridged and crusted.… Comes, then a shape emerges from t… Without haste, trudging tracks the… With his breath white upon the air…

Faces of blank decorum, and bald h… And the drone of a voice saying wh… Words like cobwebs, scarcely stirr… Loosely hanging, gray in an unswep… Thoughts belonging to nobody, like…

She is eight years old. When she laughs, her eyes laugh; Light dances in her eyes; She tosses back her long hair And with a song replies;

The wind has fal’n asleep; the bou… Is quiet; the warm sun’s gone; the… Sinks and is almost lost; Yet the April day glows on within… Happy as the white buds in the blu…

There is a dimness fallen on old f… Our hearts are solemnized with dea… Than Time is bright with: we have… Or read of it in books; it is our… Eyes that have seen this wonder; l…

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…

Fir, that on this moor austere, Without kin or neighbour near, Utterest now bleak winter’s moan As if its vext soul were thine own… Unbefriended, placed like thee,