O cover me, long gentle grasses, Cover me with your seeding heads, Cover me with your shaking limbs, Cover me with your light soft hands, Cover me as the delicious long wind passes...
Grasshoppers go in many a thumming spring And now to stalks of tasseled sow-grass cling, That shakes and swees awhile, but still keeps straight; While arching oxeye doubles with his weight....
There are some things, dear Friend, are easier far To say in written words than when we sit Eye answering eye, or hand to hand close knit. Not that there is between us any bar...
This cap, that so stately appears, With ribbon-bound tassel on high, Which seems by the crest that it rears Ambitious of brushing the sky: This cap to my cousin I owe, She gave it, and gave me beside,...
I don't know somehow it seems sufficient to see and hear whatever coming and going is, losing the self to the victory of stones and trees, of bending sandpit lakes, crescent round groves of dwarf pine:...
Infant' graves are steps of angels, where Earth's brightest gems of innocence repose. God is their parent, and they need no tear; He takes them to His bosom from earth's woes,...
Infants' gravemounds are steps of angels, where Earth's brightest gems of innocence repose. God is their parent, so they need no tear; He takes them to his bosom from earth's woes,...
A fog drifts in, the heavy laden Cold white ghost of the sea One by one the hills go out, The road and the pepper-tree. I watch the fog float in at the window With the whole world gone blind,...
A while we wandered (thus it is I dream!) Through a long, sandy track of No Man's Land, Where only poppies grew among the sand, The which we, plucking, cast with scant esteem,...
It is not well For me to dwell On what upon that day befell, On that dark day of fall befell; When through the landscape, bowed and bent, With Love and Death I slowly went,...
Great are the myths - I too delight in them; Great are Adam and Eve - I too look back and accept them; Great the risen and fallen nations, and their poets, women, sages, inventors, rulers, warriors, and priests....
Of flanks and chines of beef doth Gorrell boast He has at home; but who tastes boil'd or roast? Look in his brine-tub, and you shall find there Two stiff blue pigs'-feet and a sow's cleft ear.
Our hearts were not set on fighting, We did not pant for the fray, And whatever wrongs need righting, We would not have met that way. But the way that has opened before us...