All day and night, save winter, ev… Above the inn, the smithy and the… The aspens at the cross-roads talk… Of rain, until their last leaves f… Out of the blacksmith’s cavern com…

This is no case of petty right or… That politicians or philosophers Can judge. I hate not Germans, no… With love of Englishmen, to pleas… Beside my hate for one fat patriot

‘Twill take some getting.’ ‘Sir,… The old man stared up at the mistl… That hung too high in the poplar’s… Of any climber, though not for kis… Then he went on against the north-…

There was a weasel lived in the su… With all his family, Till a keeper shot him with his gu… And hung him up on a tree, Where he swings in the wind and ra…

How at once should I know, When stretched in the harvest blue I saw the swift’s black bow, That I would not have that view Another day

The cherry trees bend over and are… On the old road where all that pas… Their petals, strewing the grass a… This early May morn when there is…

What matter makes my spade for tea… Letting down two clay pipes into t… The one I smoked, the other a sol… Of Blenheim, Ramillies, and Malp… Perhaps. The dead man’s immortali…

‘He rolls in the orchard: he is st… And with earth, the solitary old w… Where is his father and where is h… Among all the brown horses? Has h… I know the swallow, the hawk, and…

OUT of the wood of thoughts that… To be cut down by the sharp ax of… Out of the night, two cocks togeth… Cleaving the darkness with a silve… And brought before my eyes twin tr…

Yes, I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up… Unwontedly. It was late June. The steam hissed. Someone cleared…

TALL nettles cover up, as they h… These many springs, the rusty harr… Long worn out, and the roller made… Only the elm butt tops the nettles… This corner of the farmyard I lik…

The rain of a night and a day and… Stops at the light Of this pale choked day. The peer… Sees what has been done. The road under the trees has a bor…

Is this the road that climbs above… Round what was once a chalk-pit: n… By accident an amphitheatre. Some ash trees standing ankle-deep… And bramble act the parts, and nei…

I never had noticed it until ’Twas gone, - the narrow copse Where now the woodman lops The last of the willows with his b… It was not more than a hedge overg…

Four miles at a leap, over the dar… To the frosted steep of the down a… Travels my eye with equal ease and… And scarce could my body leap four… This is the best and the worst of…