#English
(After passing Sirmione, April 18… Sirmio, thou dearest dear of stran… That Neptune strokes in lake and… With what high joy from stranger l… Doth thy old friend set foot on th…
One without looks in tonight Through the curtain-chink From the sheet of glistening white… One without looks in tonight As we sit and think
I MARK the months in liveries da… The day-tides many-shaped and hued… I see the nightfall shades subtrud… And hear the monotonous hours clan… I view the evening bonfires of the…
When mid-autumn’s moan shook the n… And sedges were horny, And summer’s green wonderwork falt… On leaze and in lane, I fared Yell’ham-Firs way, where…
WHEN you paced forth, to wait ma… A dream of other offspring held my… Compounded of us twain as Love de… Rare forms, that corporate now wil… Should I, too, wed as slave to Mo…
Minor Key Let me enjoy the earth no less Because the all-enacting Might That fashioned forth its lovelines… Had other aims than my delight.
Her house looked cold from the fog… And the square of each window a du… Where showed no stir: Yes, her gloom within at the lack… Seemed matching mine at the lack o…
“My bride is not coming, alas!” sa… And the telegram shakes in his han… It was hurried! We met at a danci… When I went to the Cattle—Show a… And then, next night, where the F…
‘It is a foolish thing,’ said I, ‘To bear with such, and pass it by… Yet so I do, I know not why!’ And at each clash I would surmise That if I had acted otherwise
NOT a line of her writing have I… Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame i… I may picture her there; And in vain do I urge my unsight
“There is not much that I can do, For I’ve no money that’s quite my… Spoke up the pitying child— A little boy with a violin At the station before the train ca…
Scene.—A wide stretch of fallow g… frozen to iron hardness. Three lar… and wistfully eyeing the surface.… dull grey. (Triolet)
Somewhere afield here something li… In Earth’s oblivious eyeless trus… That moved a poet to prophecies - A pinch of unseen, unguarded dust The dust of the lark that Shelley…
I come across from Mellstock whil… To behold where I lived with you… I shall go in the gray, at the pas… And need no setting open of the lo… As before.
Here by the moorway you returned, And saw the borough lights ahead That lit your face - all undiscern… To be in a week the face of the de… And you told of the charm of that…