Works

My fairest child, I have no song to give you;
No lark could pipe in skies so dull and gray;
Yet, if you will, one quiet hint I'll leave you,
For every day.

I'll tell you how to sing a clearer carol...

There is no inn in Snowdon which is not awful dear,
Excepting Pen-y-gwrydd (you can't pronounce it, dear),
Which standeth in the meeting of noble valleys three -
One is the vale of Gwynant, so well beloved by me,...

A hasty jest I once let fall -
As jests are wont to be, untrue -
As if the sum of joy to you
Were hunt and picnic, rout and ball.

Your eyes met mine: I did not blame;...