If any man drew near When I was young, I thought, ‘He holds her dear,’ And shook with hate and fear. But O! ‘twas bitter wrong

O curlew, cry no more in the air, Or only to the water in the West; Because your crying brings to my mind passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair That was shaken out over my breast:

I sought a theme and sought for it in va… I sought it daily for six weeks or so. Maybe at last, being but a broken man, I must be satisfied with my heart, altho… Winter and summer till old age began

Sickness brought me this Thought, in that scale of his: Why should I be dismayed Though flame had burned the whole World, as it were a coal,

Some moralist or mythological poet Compares the solitary soul to a swan; I am satisfied with that, Satisfied if a troubled mirror show it, Before that brief gleam of its life be g…

SHE might, so noble from head To great shapely knees The long flowing line, Have walked to the altar Through the holy images

Under the Great Comedian’s tomb the cro… A bundle of tempestuous cloud is blown About the sky; where that is clear of cl… Brightness remains; a brighter star shoo… What shudders run through all that anima…

In tombs of gold and lapis lazuli Bodies of holy men and women exude Miraculous oil, odour of violet. But under heavy loads of trampled clay Lie bodies of the vampires full of blood…

Laughter not time destroyed my voice And put that crack in it, And when the moon’s pot-bellied I get a laughing fit, For that old Madge comes down the lane,

I lived among great houses, Riches drove out rank, Base drove out the better blood, And mind and body shrank. No Oscar ruled the table,

Overcome—O bitter sweetness, Inhabitant of the soft cheek of a girl— The rich man and his affairs, The fat flocks and the fields’ fatness, Mariners, rough harvesters;

Three Voices [together]. Hurry to bless… The mouths that speak, the notes and str… O masters of the glittering town! O! lay the shrilly trumpet down, Though drunken with the flags that sway

POETRY, music, I have loved, and yet Because of those new dead That come into my soul and escape Confusion of the bed, Or those begotten or unbegotten

O heart, be at peace, because Nor knave nor dolt can break What’s not for their applause, Being for a woman’s sake. Enough if the work has seemed,

I had this thought awhile ago, ‘My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would do In this blind bitter land.’ And I grew weary of the sun