She wavered, stopped and turned, m… The deep grey windows of her heart… Methought they softened with a new… To note in mine unspoken miseries, And as a prayer from out my heart…

When the boughs of the garden hang… And the blackbird reneweth his son… And the thunder departing yet roll… I remember the ending of wrong. When the day that was dusk while h…

Masters in this hall, hear ye news… Brought from over the sea and ever… Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell sin… Holpen are all folk on Earth, bor… Nowell, nowell, nowell, nowell sin…

There was a lord that hight Malte… Among great lords he was right gre… On poor folk trod he like the dirt… None but God might do him hurt. Deus est Deus pauperum.

Had she come all the way for this, To part at last without a kiss? Yea, had she borne the dirt and ra… That her own eyes might see him sl… Beside the haystack in the floods?

The Youths. O Winter, O white winter, wert th… No more within the wilds were I a… Leaping with bent bow over stock a… No more alone my love the lamp sho…

I heard men saying, Leave hope an… All days shall be as all have been… To-day and to-morrow bring fear an… The never-ending toil between. When Earth was younger mid toil a…

Shall we wake one morn of spring, Glad at heart of everything, Yet pensive with the thought of ev… Then the white house shall we leav… Pass the wind-flowers and the bays…

It was up in the morn we rose beti… From the hall-floor hard by the ro… It was but John the Red and I, And we were the brethren of Grego… And Gregory the Wright was one

A ship with shields before the sun… Six maidens round the mast, A red-gold crown on every one, A green gown on the last. The fluttering green banners there

In an English Castle in Poictou.… John Curzon Of those three prisoners, that bef… We took down at St. John’s hard b… Two are good masons; we have tools…

Two words about the world we see, And nought but Mine and Thine the… Ah! might we drive them forth and… With us should rest and peace abid… All free, nought owned of goods an…

I once a king and chief Now am the tree-bark’s thief, Ever ‘twixt trunk and leaf Chasing the prey.

In Arthur’s house whileome was I When happily the time went by In midmost glory of his days. He held his court then in a place Whereof ye shall not find the name

SIR OZANA. All day long and every day, From Christmas-Eve to Whit-Sunda… Within that Chapel-aisle I lay, And no man came a-near.