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

A desolate shore, The sinister seduction of the Moo… The menace of the irreclaimable S… Flaunting, tawdry and grim, From cloud to cloud along her beat…

The gods are dead? Perhaps they… Living at least in Lempriere unde… The wise, the fair, the awful, the… Are one and all. I like to thi… In some still land of lilacs and t…

The beach was crowded. Pausing no… He groped and fiddled doggedly alo… His worn face glaring on the thoug… The stony peevishness of sightless… He seemed scarce older than his cl…

Behold me waiting-waiting for the… A little while, and at a leap I s… The thick, sweet mystery of chloro… The drunken dark, the little death… The gods are good to me: I have n…

Some starlit garden grey with dew, Some chamber flushed with wine and… What matters where, so I and you Are worthy our desire? Behind, a past that scolds and jee…

If it should come to be, This proof of you and me, This type and sign Of hours that smiled and shone, And yet seemed dead and gone

Or ever the knightly years were go… With the old world to the grave, I was the King of Babylon And you were a Christian Slave. I saw, I took, I cast you by,

On the way to Kew, By the river old and gray, Where in the Long Ago, We laughed and loitered so, I met a ghost to-day,

There’s never a delicate nurseling… But our huge London hails it, and… To wear it on her breast or at her… Her days to colour and make sweet… Crocus and daffodil and violet,

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…

‘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…

THE day’s high work is over and d… And these no more will need the su… Blow, you bugles of England, blow… These are gone where all must go, Mightily gone from the field they…

It’s the Spring. Earth has conceived, and her bosom… Teeming with summer, is glad. Vistas of change and adventure, Thro’ the green land