Destiny drives a crooked plough And sows a careless seed; Now through a heart she cuts, and… She helps a helpless need. To—night from London’s roaring se…

‘Zeus, and ye Gods, that rule in… Is there naught holy, or to your h… Have ye forgotten utterly to love, Or to be kind, in that untroubled… If aught ye cherish, still by that…

An Ode I walked beside full—flooding Tha… Westward; upon my face the sunset… The hour, the spacious evening, pl… Buoyant the air breathed after rai…

Dear child, thou know’st, I blame… Thou too, I know, hast shared the… Neither did wrong; ’twas only she, Nature, that moulded us apart. But not to have sinned, in Nature…

O Love of my Love, O blue, Blue sky that over me bends! The height and the light are you, And I the lark that ascends, Trembling ascends and soars,

So old is the wood, so old, Old as Fear. Wrinkled roots; great stems; hushe… No sound near. Shadows retreat into shadow,

The bare branches rose against the… Under them, freshly fallen, snow s… Up the hill—slope, over the brow i… Spreading an immaterial beauty to… In the elbow of black boughs it cl…

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

A wondrous rumour fills and stirs The wide Carmanian Vale; On leafy hills the sunburnt vintag… Stand listening; silent is the ech… Upon the threshing—floors:

Come back, sweet yesterdays! Sweet yesterdays, come back! Ah! not in my dreams only Vex me with joy, to wake From dream to truth, twice lonely,

In the middle of the night, waking… Of the Wind like one riding throu… Moodily riding, ever faster, he re… The windows rattled aloud: a door… And the ear in fear waited to feel…

O when will life taste clean again… Is fouled: the world sees, hears;… Vile fume that would corrupt etern… Were they corruptible. Harsh trum… Victory over the defenceless; ther…

We parted at golden dawn. I feasted my last on her eyes, And journeyed, journeyed alone: Mountains and cities and skies Hurried with cruel pace,

Ask me not, Dear, what thing it i… That makes me love you so; What graces, what sweet qualities, That from your spirit flow: For I have but this old reply,

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…