"Gabble-gabble,... brethren,... gabble-gabble!" My window frames forest and heather. I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whether The text is praise or exhortation,...
Through long nursery nights he stood By my bed unwearying, Loomed gigantic, formless, queer, Purring in my haunted ear That same hideous nightmare thing, Talking, as he lapped my blood,...
Tangled in thought am I, Stumble in speech do I? Do I blunder and blush for the reason why? Wander aloof do I, Lean over gates and sigh, Making friends with the bee and the butterfly? ...
Father is quite the greatest poet That ever lived anywhere. You say you're going to write great music, I chose that first: it's unfair. Besides, now I can't be the greatest painter and...
Cherries of the night are riper Than the cherries pluckt at noon Gather to your fairy piper When he pipes his magic tune: Merry, merry, Take a cherry; Mine are sounder, Mine are rounder,...
Back from the line one night in June, I gave a dinner at Bethune, Seven courses, the most gorgeous meal Money could buy or batman steal. Five hungry lads welcomed the fish...
And what of home, how goes it, boys, While we die here in stench and noise? "The hill stands up and hedges wind Over the crest and drop behind; Here swallows dip and wild things go...
An ancient saga tells us how In the beginning the First Cow (For nothing living yet had birth But Elemental Cow on earth) Began to lick cold stones and mud: Under her warm tongue flesh and blood...
Children born of fairy stock Never need for shirt or frock, Never want for food or fire, Always get their heart's desire: Jingle pockets full of gold, Marry when they're seven years old....
Nine of the clock, oh! Wake my lazy head! Your shoes of red morocco, Your silk bed-gown: Rouse, rouse, speck-eyed Mary In your high bed! A yawn, a smile, sleepy-starey,...
He had met hours of the clock he never guessed before, Dumb, dragging, mirthless hours confused with dreams and fear, Bone-chilling, hungry hours when the gods sleep and snore,...
Here in turn succeed and rule Carter, smith, and village fool, Then again the place is known As tavern, shop, and Sunday-school; Now somehow it's come to me To light the fire and hold the key,...
The cruel Moon hangs out of reach Up above the shadowy beech. Her face is stupid, but her eye Is small and sharp and very sly. Nurse says the Moon can drive you mad? No, that's a silly story, lad!...
Now I begin to know at last, These nights when I sit down to rhyme, The form and measure of that vast God we call Poetry, he who stoops And leaps me through his paper hoops A little higher every time....
Here's flowery taffeta for Mary's new gown: Here's black velvet, all the rage, for Dick's birthday coat. Pearly buttons for you, Mary, all the way down, Lace ruffles, Dick, for you; you'll be a man of note. ...
The great sun sinks behind the town Through a red mist of Volnay wine.... But what's the use of setting down That glorious blaze behind the town? You'll only skip the page, you'll look...