Deeply morbid deeply morbid was th… Always out of office hours running… But when daylight and the darkness… Not for this ah not for this her o… It was that look within her eye

Tender only to one Tender and true The petals swing To my fingering Is it you, or you, or you?

Away, melancholy, Away with it, let it go. Are not the trees green, The earth as green? Does not the wind blow,

Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you th… And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking

There is far too much of the subur… Spiritually not geographically spe… Menacing the greatness of our belo… Propagating their kind in an eight… Now I have a plan which I will en…

Mother, among the dustbins and the… I feel the measure of my humanity,… As of the presence of God, I am s… In the dustbins, in the manure, in… Is the presence of God, in a sure…

My heart goes out to my Creator i… Who gave me Death, as end and rem… All living creatures come to quiet… For him to eat up their activity And give them nothing, which is wh…

In the flame of the flickering fir… The sins of my soul are few And the thoughts in my head are th… With a solitary view. But the eye of eternal consciousne…

In my dreams I am always saying g… Whither and why I know not nor do… And the parting is sweet and the p… And sweetest of all is the night a… In my dreams they are always wavin…

Was he married, did he try To support as he grew less fond of… Wife and family? No, He never suffered such a blow.

He told his life story to Mrs. Co… Who was a widow. 'Let us get marr… He said. ‘I am no longer passiona… But we can have some conversation…

I walked abroad in Easter Park, I heard the wild dog’s distant bar… I knew my Lord was risen again, - Wild dog, wild dog, you bark in va…

Happiness is silent, or speaks equ… Grief is explicit and her song nev… Happiness is like England, and wi… Grief, like Guilt, rushes in and…

I do not ask for mercy for underst… And in these heavy days I do not… I do not ask that suffering shall… I do not pray to God to let me di… To give an ear attentive to my cry

Our Bog is dood, our Bog is dood, They lisped in accents mild, But when I asked them to explain They grew a little wild. How do you know your Bog is dood