O paradise of waters and of isles… Dark pines on scarps that flame wh… A hundred isles that change like a… From shape to shape for them that… Many celestial palaces, gardens of…

Fly home, my thoughts, that fretti… In alien words all day, Have longed for the sun’s setting And wished all words away. Fly home to her that knows you,

Home from the wounds of Earth and… The marvel of her beauty and morni… She has taken, glorious with the d… Still on her thoughts, those thoug… Gleamed still or splendid, unafrai…

In the hollow of pale night upon t… The silence blows a perfume: O bu… A sound is in the bosom of the dar… Breathed like a secret from the gl… A vigil of unearthly sound, the se…

Sleep, sleep on Mother’s breast, Child, my child! Close within my arms be pressed. O the world is vast and wild, Filled with hurt and war and cries…

Pale are the words I build for my… To house in; pale as the chill mis… An ardent morn. My fire to others… But dimly burns through the frail… I cast but shadows from my inward…

O Weariness, that writest histori… On all these human faces, and O S… That somewhere silence hears! You… It seems, in the old earth’s deep—… Your way of solace is a different…

Gray the slow sky darkens Over the downland track Where the long valley closes Under a smooth hill’s back. The slope is darkly sprinkled

Gaunt on the cloudy plain Stand the great Stones, Dwarfed in the vast reach Of a sky that owns All the measure of earth

Be ruthless, then; scorn slaves of… The blow, planned with such patien… So terribly; hack on, and care not… The innocent fall; live out your f… Then you speak speech that we can…

A hundred autumns fallen in fire To dust and mould Have faded from their perished gol… To throne thee higher, O Titan pine, that soarest straig…

The mist has fallen over the isles… And Ruan turns his boat for home. The wind is down; with an oar he s… The narrow races, where at whiles To left or right through fog he he…

Will they blot also out your name Because you praise All works of men that shrine the f… Of beauty’s ways, Wherever men have proved them grea…

Book I ‘O from the dungeon of this flesh… At last, and to have peace,’ Porp… Inly tormented, as with pain he to… Before his dwelling in the Syrian…

So late the rustling shower was he… Yet now the aëry west is still. The wet leaves flash, and lightly… Great drops out of the lilac spill… Peacefully blown, the ashen clouds