When nuts behind the hazel-leaf Are brown as the squirrel that hun… And the fields are rich with the s… ‘Mid the blue cornflower and the y… And the farmer glows and beams in…

What are we first? First, animals… Intelligences at a leap; on whom Pale lies the distant shadow of th… And all that draweth on the tomb f… Into which state comes Love, the…

WHEN by Zeus relenting the manda…    Sentencing to exile the bright… Mindful were the ploughmen of who…    Who: and what a track show’d th… Mindful were the shepherds, as now…

Keen as an eagle whose flight towa… Fearless of toil or fatigue ever r… Vast in the cloud-coloured robes o… Lo! the grand Epic advances, unfo…

Leave the uproar: at a leap Thou shalt strike a woodland path, Enter silence, not of sleep, Under shadows, not of wrath; Breath which is the spirit’s bath

It ended, and the morrow brought t… Her eyes were guilty gates, that l… By shutting all too zealous for th… Each sucked a secret, and each wor… But, oh, the bitter taste her beau…

Not solitarily in fields we find Earth’s secret open, though one pa… Her plainest, such as children spe… With bird and beast; raised letter… Not where the troubled passions to…

Now the frog, all lean and weak, Yawning from his famished sleep, Water in the ditch doth seek, Fast as he can stretch and leap: Marshy king-cups burning near

Love ere he bleeds, an eagle in hi… Has earth beneath his wings: from… He views the rosy dawn. In vain t… The fatal web below while far he f… But when the arrow strikes him, th…

Come to me in any shape! As a victor crown’d with vine, In thy curls the clustering grape,… Or a vanquished slave: ’Tis thy coming that I crave,

A revelation came on Jane, The widow of a labouring swain: And first her body trembled sharp, Then all the woman was a harp With winds along the strings; she…

Men the Angels eyed; And here they were wild waves, And there as marsh descried; Men the Angels eyed, And liked the picture best

What soul would bargain for a cure… Contempt the nobler agony to kill? Rather let me bear on the bitter i… And strike this rusty bosom with n… It seems there is another veering…

Fair and false! No dawn will gree… Thy waking beauty as of old; The little flower beneath thy feet Is alien to thy smile so cold; The merry bird flown up to meet

O nightingale! how hast thou learn… The note of the nested dove? While under thy bower the fern han… And no cloud hovers above! Rich July has many a sky