#English
Often and often it came back again To mind, the day I passed the hor… To a new country, the path I had… By half-gaps that were stiles once… The pack of scarlet clouds running…
Gone, gone again, May, June, July, And August gone, Again gone by, Not memorable
Often I had gone this way before But now it seemed I never could b… And never had been anywhere else; ’Twas home; one nationality We had, I and the birds that sang…
She had a name among the children; But no one loved though someone ow… Her, locked her out of doors at be… And had her kittens duly drowned. In Spring, nevertheless, this cat
The two men in the road were taken… The lovers came out shading their… And never was white so white, or b… As her cheeks and hair. ‘There ar… A man might turn into a wood for,…
Like the touch of rain she was On a man’s flesh and hair and eyes When the joy of walking thus Has taken him by surprise: With the love of the storm he burn…
I never saw that land before, And now can never see it again; Yet, as if by acquaintance hoar Endeared, by gladness and by pain, Great was the affection that I bo…
Gone the wild day: A wilder night Coming makes way For brief twilight. Where the firm soaked road
The flowers left thick at nightfal… This Eastertide call into mind th… Now far from home, who, with their… Have gathered them and will do nev…
There are so many things I have f… That once were much to me, or that… All lost, as is a childless woman’… And its child’s children, in the u… Abyss of what can never be again.
RUNNING along a bank, a parapet That saves from the precipitous wo… The level road, there is a path.… Children for looking down the long… Between the legs of beech and yew,…
Rise up, rise up, And, as the trumpet blowing Chases the dreams of men, As the dawn glowing The stars that left unlit
The glory of the beauty of the mor… The cuckoo crying over the untouch… The blackbird that has found it, a… That tempts me on to something swe… White clouds ranged even and fair…
The green roads that end in the fo… Are strewn with white goose feathe… Life marks left behind by someone… To show his track. But he has nev… Down each green road a cottage loo…
‘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…
