Our palm designed to grow In deserts, sent roots seeking far… Channels where waters flow. And in the city found Intricate pipings where the waters…

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,

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…

Flowers have uncountable ways of p… Not solid, but moonlight or sunlig… Primroses strive for the colour of… Dew-besprent. Freesias are flames wherein light…

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

They have a few little hours To study the world’€” Its lovely absence of clouds, Or the thunderbolts hurled By hidden powers’€”

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…

O little year, cram full of duty, Rapture and sorrow, too, Show me the way from old paths of… Into the fields of dew. Strange lorn fields where the moon…

At ten o’clock the great gong soun… Prelude to splendour. I push back… And all the people leave their boo… Still acquiescent, down the marble… Into the dark where we can’t read.…

Little girls, You are gay, Little factory girls, At the end of your day. There you stand,

They say she was a creature of the… A lover of the angels, silence bou… She sought no friendships. She wa… Her sister Charlotte found. I know she nursed her brother till…

You want a lily And you plead with me ‘Give me my lily back.’ I went to see A friend last night and on her man…

Sometimes I think God has his day… For being friends. He says: 'Forgive my careless way… No one pretends I’m always kind; but for today

Do you remember still the little s… I mumbled on the hill at Aura, ho… I told you it was made for Katie’… When I was fresh from school and… With all the strength of girlhood?…

All through the day at my machine There still keeps going A strange little tune through hear… As I sit sewing: ‘There is a child in Hungary,