A mile behind is Gloucester town Where the fishing fleets put in, A mile ahead the land dips down And the woods and farms begin. Here, where the moors stretch free In the high blue afternoon,...
Nay, move not! Sit just as you are, Under the carved wings of the chair. The hearth-glow sifting through your hair Turns every dim pearl to a star Dawn-drowned in floods of brightening air. ...
Thank God my brain is not inclined to cut Such capers every day! I 'm just about Mellow, but then--There goes the tent-flap shut. Rain 's in the wind. I thought so: every snout...