O, gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes… And winter waits behind it! For with the dream foregone, foreg…

Praise the generous gods for givin… In a world of wrath and strife, With a little time for living, Unto all the joy of life. At whatever source we drink it,

Friends... old friends... One sees how it ends. A woman looks Or a man lies, And the pleasant brooks

You are carried in a basket, Like a carcase from the shambles, To the theatre, a cockpit Where they stretch you on a table. Then they bid you close your eyeli…

So went our boys when Edward Sixt… Chartered Christ’s Hospital, and… Full fifteen generations in a stri… Of heirs to his bequest have had t… Thus Camden showed, and Barnes, a…

O, gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes… And winter waits behind it! For with the dream foregone, foreg…

the quiet skies: And from the west, Where the sun, his day’s work ende… Lingers as in content, There falls on the old, gray city

Space and dread and the dark - Over a livid stretch of sky Cloud-monsters crawling, like a fu… Of huge, primeval presences Stooping beneath the weight

Out of the starless night that cov… (O tribulation of the wind that ro… Black as the cloud of some tremend… The susurration of the sighing sea Sounds like the sobbing whisper of…

With a ripple of leaves and a tink… The full world rolls in a rhythm o… And the winds are one with the clo… Midsummer days! Midsummer days! The dusk grows vast; in a purple h…

A hard north-easter fifty winters… Has bronzed and shrivelled sere he… Her locks are wild and grey, her t… Her foot is vast, her bowed leg sp… A wide blue cloak, a squat and stu…

Fools may pine, and sots may swill… Cynics gibe, and prophets rail, Moralists may scourge and drill, Preachers prose, and fainthearts q… Let them whine, or threat, or wail…

WHAT have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere,

Where forlorn sunsets flare and fa… On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange comma… Calling you still, as friend calls…