I gave my heart to a woman— I gave it her, branch and root. She bruised, she wrung, she tortur… She cast it under foot. Under her feet she cast it,

Out of the poisonous East, Over a continent of blight, Like a maleficent Influence relea… From the most squalid cellerage of… The Wind—Fiend, the abominable—

In the waste hour Between to-day and yesterday We watched, while on my arm - Living flesh of her flesh, bone of… Dabbled in sweat the sacred head

Some starlit garden grey with dew, Some chamber flushed with wine and… What matters where, so I and you Are worthy our desire? Behind, a past that scolds and jee…

Two and thirty is the ploughman. He’s a man of gallant inches, And his hair is close and curly, And his beard; But his face is wan and sunken,

Fountains that frisk and sprinkle The moss they overspill; Pools that the breezes crinkle; The wheel beside the mill, With its wet, weedy frill;

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pol… I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance

Out of the starless night that cov… (O tribulation of the wind that ro… Black as the cloud of some tremend… The susurration of the sighing sea Sounds like the sobbing whisper of…

Spring at her height on a morn at… Sails that laugh from a flying squ… Pomp of harmony, rapture of rhyme… Youth is the sign of them, one and… Winter sunsets and leaves that fal…

Crosses and troubles a-many have p… One or two women (God bless them)… I have worked and dreamed, and I’… Of art and drink I have had my fi… I’ve comforted here, and I succor…

O, gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes… And winter waits behind it! For with the dream foregone, foreg…

THE day’s high work is over and d… And these no more will need the su… Blow, you bugles of England, blow… These are gone where all must go, Mightily gone from the field they…

Above the Crags that fade and glo… Starts the bare knee of Arthur’s… Ridged high against the evening bl… The Old Town rises, street on str… With lamps bejewelled, straight ah…

A hard north-easter fifty winters… Has bronzed and shrivelled sere he… Her locks are wild and grey, her t… Her foot is vast, her bowed leg sp… A wide blue cloak, a squat and stu…