NOW when the number of my years Is all fulfilled, and I From sedentary life Shall rouse me up to die, Bury me low and let me lie

The human conscience has fled of l… domain of conduct for what I shoul… less congenial field of art: there… rage, and with special severity in… so that in every novel the letters…

Long must elapse ere you behold ag… Green forest frame the entry of th… The wild lane with the bramble and… The year-old cart-tracks perfect i… The wayside smoke, perchance, the…

COME, my beloved, hear from me Tales of the woods or open sea. Let our aspiring fancy rise A wren’s flight higher toward the… Or far from cities, brown and bare…

The gauger walked with willing foo… And aye the gauger played the flut… And what should Master Gauger pla… But Over the hills and far away? Whene’er I buckle on my pack

A naked house, a naked moor, A shivering pool before the door, A garden bare of flowers and fruit And poplars at the garden foot; Such is the place that I live in,

NOW Antoninus, in a smiling age, Counts of his life the fifteenth f… The rounded days and the safe year… Nor fears death’s water mounting r… To him remembering not one day is…

KNOW you the river near to Grez, A river deep and clear? Among the lilies all the way, That ancient river runs to—day From snowy weir to weir.

Every night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every day that I’ve been good… I get an orange after food. The child that is not clean and ne…

I knew thee strong and quiet like… I knew thee apt to pity, brave to… In peace or war a Roman full equi… And just I knew thee, like the fa… Who by the loud sea-shore gave jud…

Sing me a song of a lad that is go… Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye. Mull was astern, Rum on the port,

MAN sails the deep awhile; Loud runs the roaring tide; The seas are wild and wide; O’er many a salt, o’er many a dese… The unchained breakers ride,

It’s rainin’. Weet’s the gairden… Weet the lang roads whaur gangrels… A maist unceevil thing o’ God In mid July — If ye’ll just curse the sneckdraw,…

Trusty, dusky, vivid, true, With eyes of gold and bramble—dew, Steel—true and blade—straight, The great artificer Made my mate.

I will make you brooches and toys… Of bird-song at morning and star-s… I will make a palace fit for you a… Of green days in forests and blue… I will make my kitchen, and you sh…