If you could bring her glories bac… You gentle sirs who sift the dust And burrow in the mould and must Of Babylon for bric-a-brac; Who catalogue and pigeon-hole

The leaves looked in at the window Of the house across the way, At a man that had sinned like you… And all poor human clay. He muttered: 'In a gambol

Now one and all, you Roses, Wake up, you lie too long! This very morning closes The Nightingale his song; Each from its olive chamber

Not baser than his own homekeeping… Whose journeyman he is - Blind sons and breastless daughter… Whose darkness pardons his, - About the world, while all the wor…

He came and took me by the hand Up to a red rose tree, He kept His meaning to Himself But gave a rose to me. I did not pray Him to lay bare

For all its flowers and trailing b… Its singing birds and streams, This valley’s not the blissful spo… The paradise, it seems. I don’t forget a man I met

Sour fiend, go home and tell the… For once you met your master, - A man who carried in his soul Three charms against disaster, The Devil and disaster.

It’s sixty years ago, the people s… Two village children, neighbours b… One morning played beneath a rotte… That came down crash and caught th… And one was killed and one was lef…

With Love among the haycocks We played at hide and seek; He shut his eyes and counted - We hid among the hay - Then he a haycock mounted,

Eve, with her basket, was Deep in the bells and grass, Wading in bells and grass Up to her knees, Picking a dish of sweet

I saw with open eyes Singing birds sweet Sold in the shops For people to eat, Sold in the shops of

A few tossed thrushes save That carolled less than cried Against the dying rave And moan that never died, No bird sang then; no thorn,

The book was dull, its pictures As leaden as its lore, But one glad, happy picture Made up for all and more: ’Twas that of you, sweet peasant,

When flighting time is on I go With clap-net and decoy, A-fowling after goldfinches And other birds of joy; I lurk among the thickets of

He begged and shuffled on; Sometimes he stopped to throw A bit and benison To sparrows in the snow, And clap a frozen ear