‘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-…

At hawthorn-time in Wiltshire tra… In search of something chance woul… An old man’s face, by life and wea… And coloured, - rough, brown, swee… A land face, sea-blue-eyed, - hung…

‘He has robbed two clubs. The jud… Can’t give him more than he undoub… Deserves. The scoundrel! Look at… A lady-killer! Hanging’s too good… For such as he.' So said the stra…

I have come to the borders of slee… The unfathomable deep Forest where all must lose Their way, however straight, Or winding, soon or late;

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…

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 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,…

Out in the sun the goldfinch flits Along the thistle-tops, flits and… Above the hollow wood Where birds swim like fish - Fish that laugh and shriek -

No one so much as you Loves this my clay, Or would lament as you Its dying day. You know me through and through

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…

Not the end: but there’s nothing m… Sweet Summer and Winter rude I have loved, and friendship and l… The crowd and solitude: But I know them: I weary not;

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but t… On this bleak hut, and solitude, a… Remembering again that I shall di… And neither hear the rain nor give… For washing me cleaner than I hav…

I built myself a house of glass: It took my years to make it: And I was proud. But now, alas! Would God someone would break it. But it looks too magnificent.

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…

After you speak And what you meant Is plain, My eyes Meet yours that mean,