Long ago some builder thrust Heavenward in Southampton town His spire and beamed his bells, Largely conceiving from the dust That pinnacle for ringing down Orisons and No'ls. ...
He was a man with wide and patient eyes, Grey, like the drift of twitch-fires blown in June, That, without fearing, searched if any wrong Might threaten from your heart. Grey eyes he had...
That was the proud woman, Naaman's wife. Basking at noon under the Syrian fans, While Naaman, the leprous mighty captain, Proud glowing flesh now silver-skinned and tainted,...
Dear boy unborn: the son but of my dream, Promise of yet unrisen day, Come, sit beside me; let us talk, and seem To take such cares and courage for your way,...