We are with France - not by the ties Of treaties made with tongue in cheek, The ancient diplomatic lies, The paper promises that seek To hide the long maturing guile, Planning destruction with a smile....
Wearies my love of my letters? Does she my silence command? Sunders she Love's rosy fetters As though they were woven of sand? Tires she too of each token Indited with many a sigh?...
O little feet! that such long years Must wander on through hopes and fears, Must ache and bleed beneath your load; I, nearer to the wayside inn Where toil shall cease and rest begin,...
This April sun has wakened into cheer The wintry paths of thought, and tinged with gold These threadbare leaves of fancy brown and old. This is for us the wakening of the year...
I would have gone; God bade me stay: I would have worked; God bade me rest. He broke my will from day to day, He read my yearnings unexpressed And said them nay.
Once I dipt into the future far as human eye could see, And I saw the Chief Forecaster, dead as any one can be Dead and damned and shut in Hades as a liar from his birth,...
This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, And nestlings fly: And the little brown nightingale bills his best,...
Weave in! weave in, my hardy life! Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns to come; Weave in red blood! weave sinews in, like ropes! the senses, sight weave in!...
Warp and Woof and Tangle,-- Weavers of Webs are we. Living and dying--and mightier dead, For the shuttle, once sped, is sped--is sped;-- Weavers of Webs are we. ...
Do you remember, O Delphic Apollo, The sunset hour by the river, when Mickey M'Grew Cried, "There's a ghost," and I, "It's Delphic Apollo,". And the son of the banker derided us, saying, "It's light...
We cover thee, sweet face. Not that we tire of thee, But that thyself fatigue of us; Remember, as thou flee, We follow thee until Thou notice us no more, And then, reluctant, turn away...
I tell thee, Dick, where I have been; Where I the rarest things have seen; Oh, things without compare! Such sights again can not be found In any place on English ground, Be it at wake or fair. ...
At night, with shaded eyes, the summer moon In tender meditation downward glances At the dark earth, far-set in dim expanses, And, welcomer than blazoned gold of noon,...