Within these long gray shadows many dead Lie waiting: we wait with them. Do you believe That at the last the threadbare soul will give All his shifts over, and stand dishevell'd,...
I thank all Gods that I can let thee go, Lady, without one thought, one base desire To tarnish that clear vision I gained by fire, One stain in me I would not have thee know....
When Spring blows o'er the land, and sunlight flies Across the hills, we take the upland way. I have her waist, the wooing wind her eyes And lips and cheeks. His kissing makes her gay...
The blue night falleth, the moon Is over the hill; make fast, Fasten the latch, I am tired: come soon, Come! I would sleep at last In your bosom, my love, my love!
Mossy gray stands the House, four-square to the wind, Embosomed in the hills. The garden old Of yew and box and fishpond speaks her mind, Sweet-ordered, quaint, recluse, fold within fold...
Breathless was she and would not have us part: "Adieu, my Saint," I said, "'tis come to this." But she leaned to me, one hand at her heart, And all her soul sighed trembling in a kiss.
In June I brought her roses, and she cupt One slim bud in her hand and cherisht it, And put it to her mouth. Rose and she supt Each other's sweetness; but the flower was lit...
O what is this you've done to me, Or what have I done, That bare should be our fair roof-tree, And I all alone? 'Tis worse than widow I become More than desolate,...
When winds blow high and leaves begin to fall, And the wan sunlight flits before the blast; When fields are brown and crops are garnered all, And rooks, like mastered ships, drift wide and fast;...
I cannot add one tendril to your bays, Worn quietly where who love you sing your praise; But I may stand Among the household throng with lifted hand, Upholding for sweet honour of the land...