Hast thou not known them, too, the… Rare moments, such as came to me b… On this clear, breezy evening, whe… Flows through the orchard’s tossin… As though beyond their lifted scre…

Stooping over London, skies convu… With thunder moved: a rumour of st… Hushed them, and birds flew troubl… Up from the West climbing, above… Glowed sullen as copper embossed;…

By old blanched fibres of gaunt iv… The hollow crag towers under noon’… Ribbed ledges, lizard—haunted cran… Cushioned with stone—crop and with… Cool that clear shadow from the ou…

A day that is boundless as youth And gay with delight to be born, Where the waves flash and glide ov… In their pure image rippled and wo… Where laughter is young on the air

Together we laughed and talked in… Out now, alone I come Into the street, in the fall of th… Shadowy skies, with a pale uncerta… Hover above the houses dim; but br…

Yet when the challenge rang, ‘ The War-Lord comes ; give room!… Fearless to arms you sprang Against the odds of doom. Like your own Damian

Spring has leapt into Summer. A glory has gone from the green. The flush of the poplar has sobere… The flame in the leaf of the lime… But I am thinking of the young me…

To a bare blue hill Wings an old thought roaming, At a random touch Of memory homing. The first of England

When I am only I, The secret battle—ground Of world and will, wherein Self is so strictly bound, Then am I condemned;

The rains of yesterday are flown, And light is on the farthest hills… The homeliest rough grass by the s… To radiance thrills; And the wet bank above the ditch,

Silences in the mind, the haunting… Silences daunting, Chill as a cavern’s air, immuring… Yet inly luring Like springs that ooze there, glid…

Earth, I love thee well; And well dost thou requite me. I have no tongue to tell How this day thou hast thrilled With wonder, to delight me,

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

Life from sunned peak, witched woo… A hundred ways the eager spirit wo… To roam, to dream, to conquer, to… Yet in its ear a voice cries ever,… So many ways, yet only one shall f…

What ails John Winter, that so of… Silent he sits apart? The neighbours cast their looks on… But deep he hides his heart. In Deptford streets the houses sm…