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

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?

Midst bitten mead and acre shorn, The world without is waste and wor… But here within our orchard-close, The guerdon of its labour shows. O valiant Earth, O happy year

The wind’s on the wold And the night is a-cold, And Thames runs chill ‘Twixt mead and hill. But kind and dear

I KNOW a little garden-close Set thick with lily and red rose, Where I would wander if I might From dewy dawn to dewy night, And have one with me wandering.

The Briarwood. The fateful slumber floats and flo… About the tangle of the rose; But lo! the fated hand and heart To rend the slumberous curse apart…

Spring went about the woods to-day… The soft-foot winter-thief, And found where idle sorrow lay ’Twixt flower and faded leaf. She looked on him, and found him f…

For many, many days together The wind blew steady from the Eas… For many days hot grew the weather… About the time of our Lady’s Feas… For many days we rode together,

Dawn talks to Day Over dew-gleaming flowers, Night flies away Till the resting of hours: Fresh are thy feet

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

TRANSLATED FROM THE DAN… King Hafbur & King Siward They needs must stir up strife, All about the sweetling Signy Who was so fair a wife.

Ye who have come o’er the sea to behold this grey minster of lan… Whose floor is the tomb of time pa… and whose walls by the toil of dea… Show pictures amidst of the ruin

Sad-Eyed and soft and grey thou a… Across the long grass of the marsh… Thy west wind whispers of the comi… Thy lark forgets that May is grow… Above the lush blades of the sprin…

Hear a word, a word in season, for the day is drawing nigh, When the Cause shall call upon us… some to live, and some to die! He that dies shall not die lonely,

Winter in the world it is, Round about the unhoped kiss Whose dream I long have sorrowed… Round about the longing sore, That the touch of thee shall turn