Come again to the place Where your presence was as a leaf… Down a drouthy way whose ascent be… The bloom on the farer’s face. Come again, with the feet

He enters, and mute on the edge of… Sits a thin—faced lady, a stranger… A type of decayed gentility; And by some small signs he well ca… That she comes to him almost break…

Between us now and here -    Two thrown together Who are not wont to wear    Life’s flushest feather - Who see the scenes slide past,

Woman much missed, how you call to… Saying that now you are not as you… When you had changed from the one… But as at first, when our day was… Can it be you that I hear? Let me…

I rose up as my custom is On the eve of All-Souls’ day, And left my grave for an hour or s… To call on those I used to know Before I passed away.

The Roman Road runs straight and… As the pale parting-line in hair Across the heath. And thoughtful… Contrast its days of Now and Then… And delve, and measure, and compar…

With Thoughts of Sergeant M——(Pe… “WHY, Sergeant, stray on the Ive… As though at home there were spect… From first to last 'twas a proud c… And your sunny years with a gracio…

‘If ever I walk to church to wed, As other maidens use, And face the gathered eyes,’ she s… 'I’ll go in satin shoes!' She was as fair as early day

I rose at night and visited The Cave of the Unborn, And crowding shapes surrounded me For tidings of the life to be, Who long had prayed the silent He…

Had I but lived a hundred years a… I might have gone, as I have gone… By Warmwell Cross on to a Cove I… And Time have placed his finger o… “You see that man?” —I might have…

I traced the Circus whose gray st… Where Rome and dim Etruria interj… Till came a child who showed an an… That bore the image of a Constant… She lightly passed; nor did she on…

It faces west, and round the back… High beeches, bending, hang a veil… And sweep against the roof. Wild… Climb on the walls, and seem to sp… (If we may fancy wish of trees and…

When I set out for Lyonnesse, A hundred miles away, The rime was on the spray, And starlight lit my lonesomeness When I set out for Lyonnesse

Only a man harrowing clods In a slow silent walk With an old horse that stumbles an… Half asleep as they stalk. II