To look across at Moira gives me… She has a red tape measure. Her dress is black and all the wor… And I am weary. But that’s like blood—like a thin…

When I am making poetry I’m good And happy then. I live in a deep world of angelhoo… Afar from men. And all the great and bright and f…

When I go into town at half past… Great crowds of people stream acro… Hurrying, although it’s only half… They are the invisible people of t… When you go in to town about eleve…

My window pane is broken Just a bit Where the small curtain doesn’t Cover it. And in the afternoon

Every day Miss Mary goes her roun… Through the splendid house and thr… Looking if the kitchen table’s whi… Seeing if the great big fire’s ali… Finding specks on shining pans and…

O great golden head lie in my lap, Sweet, sweet, lie there. Sleep and I’ll watch thee lest ev… Sweet, sweet and fair. O great golden head lie on my brea…

He’s out of work! I tell myself a change should mean… And he must look for changes to ad… And he, of all men, really needs a… But I hate change.

Through the swift night I go to my love. Tram bells are joy bells, Bidding us move On a golden path

The foot of my machine Sails up and down Upon the blue of this fine lady’s… Sail quickly, little boat, With gifts for me,

I’m not his wife. I am his paramo… His wayside love, picked up in jou… Rose of the hedgerows; fragrant, t… Me down beside the ditch, a droope… Some country boy may stick into hi…

I made a heaven for you filled wit… Each star a song Meant to give happy music to your… Day and night long. But in your workshop you are close…

When day is over I climb up the stair, Take off my dark dress, Pull down my hair, Open my window

The lilies in the garden walk Are out today. The nuns all came to look at them, To look and say They wouldn’t last to deck the cri…

I am no mystic. All the ways of G… Are dark to me. I know not if he lived or if he di… In agony. My every act has reference to man.

I came to live in Sophia Street, In a little house in Sophia Stree… With an inch of floor Between door and door And a yard you’d measure in childr…