All night under the moon Plovers are flying Over the dreaming meadows of silvery light, Over the meadows of June, Flying and crying - Wandering voices of love in the hush of the night. ...
Stuck in a bottle on the window-sill, In the cold gaslight burning gaily red Against the luminous blue of London night, These flowers are mine: while somewhere out of sight...
He's gone. I do not understand. I only know That as he turned to go And waved his hand, In his young eyes a sudden glory shone, And I was dazzled with a sunset glow,...
In dream, again within the clean, cold hell Of glazed and aching silence he was trapped; And, closing in, the blank walls of his cell Crushed stifling on him ... when the bracken snapped,...