Joy of the Milliner, Envy of the… Star of the Parks, jack-booted, s… He sits between his holsters, soli… Nor, as it seems, though Westmins… With the great globe, in earthquak…

‘Liza’s old man’s perhaps a little… ‘Liza’s old woman’s prone to booze… But ‘Liza deems herself a perfect… And proves it in her feathers and… For ’Liza has a bloke her heart t…

Down the quiet eve, Thro’ my window with the sunset Pipes to me a distant organ Foolish ditties; And, as when you change

An ill March noon; the flagstones… An all-round east wind volleying s… St. Martin’s Steps, where every v… Lingers to buffet, or sneap, the p… And in the gutter, squelching a ro…

From the brake the Nightingale Sings exulting to the Rose; Though he sees her waxing pale In her passionate repose, While she triumphs waxing frail,

Though, if you ask her name, she s… Being plain Elizabeth, e’en let i… And own that, if her aspirates tak… She ever makes a point, in washing… Handling the engine, turning taps…

These, to you now, O, more than e… Now that the Ancient Enemy Has passed, and we, we two that ar… A piece of perfect Life Turn to so ravishing a shape of D…

Bring her again, O western wind, Over the western sea! Gentle and good and fair and kind, Bring her again to me! Not that her fancy holds me dear,

Life in her creaking shoes Goes, and more formal grows, A round of calls and cues: Love blows as the wind blows. Blows! . . . in the quiet close

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…

From the winter’s grey despair, From the summer’s golden languor, Death, the lover of Life, Frees us for ever. Inevitable, silent, unseen,

Take, dear, my little sheaf of son… For, old or new, All that is good in them belongs Only to you; And, singing as when all was young…

I gave my heart to a woman— I gave it her, branch and root. She bruised, she wrung, she tortur… She cast it under foot. Under her feet she cast it,

Madam Life’s a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: She’s the tenant of the room, He’s the ruffian on the stair. You shall see her as a friend,

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…