From Amberley to Storrington, From Storrington to Amberley, From Amberley to Washington You cannot see or smell the sea. But why the devil should you wish To see the home of silly fish? ...
Aristono', the fading shepherdess, Gathers the young girls round her in a ring, Teaching them wisdom of love, What to say, how to dress, How frown, how smile, How suitors to their dancing feet to bring,...
Because the days are long for you and me, I make this song to lighten their slow time, So that the weary waiting fruitful be Or blossomed only by my limping rhyme. The days are very long...
As a hot traveller Going through stones and sands, Who sees clear water stir Amid the weary lands, Takes in his hollowed hands The clean and lively water, That trickles down his throat...
The world's great ways unclose Through little wooded hills: An air that stirs and stills, Dies sighing where it rose Or flies to sigh again In elms, whose stately rows Receive the summer rain,...
My mother told me this for true That there behind the mountains, That wear the mists about their feet And clouds about their summits, There grows the weed Forgetfulness, It grows there in the gullies....
Who thinks that he possesses His mistress with his kisses Knows neither love nor her. Nor beauty is not his Who seeks it in a kiss: If you would seek for this O seek it otherwhere! ...
When a great wave disturbs the ocean cold And throws the bottom waters to the sky, Strange apparitions on the surface lie, Great battered vessels, stripped of gloss and gold,...
We may raise our voices even in this still glade: Though the colours and shadows and sounds so fleeting seem, We shall not dispel them. They are not made Frailly by earth or hands, but immortal in our dream....
The pale road winds faintly upward into the dark skies, And beside it on the rough grass that the wind invisibly stirs, Sheltered by sharp-speared gorse and the berried junipers,...
Along the branches of the laden tree The ripe fruit smiling hang. The afternoon Is emptied of all things done and things to be. Low in the sky the inconspicuous moon...
This is the valley where we sojourn now, Cut up by narrow brooks and rich and green And shaded sweetly by the waving bough About the trench where floats the soft serene Arun with waters running low and low...
Perhaps you sleep now, fifty miles to the south, While I sit here and dream of you by night. The thick soft blankets drawn about your mouth Have made for you a nest of warm delight;...
Daphne is running, running through the grass, The long stalks whip her ankles as she goes. I saw the nymph, the god, I saw them pass And how a mounting flush of tender rose...
This is the sea. In these uneven walls A wave lies prisoned. Far and far away Outward to ocean, as the slow tide falls, Her sisters through the capes that hold the bay Dancing in lovely liberty recede....
The husht September afternoon was sweet With rich and peaceful light. I could not hear On either side the sound of moving feet Although the hidden road was very near....
Blow harder, wind, and drive My blood from hands and face back to the heart. Cry over ridges and down tapering coombs, Carry the flying dapple of the clouds Over the grass, over the soft-grained plough,...