What of the faith and fire within… Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray, To hazards whence no tears can win…

‘More than half my life long Did they weigh me falsely, to my b… But they all have shrunk away into… Like a lost song. ’And the day has dawned and come

How do you know that the pilgrim t… Along the belting zodiac Swept by the sun in his seeming ro… Is traced by now to the Fishes’ b… And into the Ram, when weeks of c…

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…

They had long met o’ Zundays—her… And at junketings, maypoles, and f… But she bode wi’ a thirtover uncle… Swore by noon and by night that he… Naibor Sweatley—a gaffer oft weak…

That night your great guns, unawar… Shook all our coffins as we lay, And broke the chancel window—squar… We thought it was the Judgment—da… And sat upright. While drearisome

‘What are you still, still thinkin… He asked in vague surmise, ’That you stare at the wick unblin… With those great lost luminous eye… ‘O, I see a poor moth burning

There trudges one to a merry-makin… With sturdy swing, On whom the rain comes down. To fetch the saving medicament Is another bent,

YOUR troubles shrink not, though… Here, far away, than when I tarri… I even smile old smiles—with listl… Yet smiles they are, not ghastly m… A thought too strange to house wit…

Last year I called this world of… The darkest thinkable, and questio… If my own land could heave its pul… So charged it seemed with circumst…    The tragedy of things.

(at a Cathedral Service) THAT from this bright believing… An outcast I should be, That faiths by which my comrades s… Seem fantasies to me,

‘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

Thirty-two years since, up against… Seven shapes, thin atomies to lowe… Labouringly leapt and gained thy g… And four lives paid for what the s… They were the first by whom the de…

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

For F. E. H. I sometimes think as here I sit Of things I have done, Which seemed in doing not unfit To face the sun: