I sat in the Muses' Hall at the mid of the day, And it seemed to grow still, and the people to pass away, And the chiselled shapes to combine in a haze of sun,...
"I stood at the back of the shop, my dear, But you did not perceive me. Well, when they deliver what you were shown I shall know nothing of it, believe me!" ...
"I'll tell being past all praying for - Then promptly die . . . He was out at the war, And got some scent of the intimacy That was under way between her and me;...
She did not turn, But passed foot-faint with averted head In her gown of green, by the bobbing fern, Though I leaned over the gate that led From where we waited with table spread; But she did not turn:...
I think of the slope where the rabbits fed, Of the periwinks' rockwork lair, Of the fuchsias ringing their bells of red - And the something else seen there. ...
The curtains now are drawn, And the spindrift strikes the glass, Blown up the jagged pass By the surly salt sou'-west, And the sneering glare is gone Behind the yonder crest,...
"Soul! Shall I see thy face," she said, "In one brief hour? And away with thee from a loveless bed To a far-off sun, to a vine-wrapt bower, And be thine own unseparated,...
To Jenny came a gentle youth From inland leazes lone, His love was fresh as apple-blooth By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone. And duly he entreated her To be his tender minister, And call him aye her own....
I pitched my day's leazings in Crimmercrock Lane, To tie up my garter and jog on again, When a dear dark-eyed gentleman passed there and said, In a way that made all o' me colour rose-red,...
I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter's dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings from broken lyres,...
Here is your parents' dwelling with its curtained windows telling Of no thought of us within it or of our arrival here; Their slumbers have been normal after one day more of formal...
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest Uncoffined - just as found: His landmark is a kopje-crest That breaks the veldt around; And foreign constellations west Each night above his mound....
Sinking down by the gate I discern the thin moon, And a blackbird tries over old airs in the pine, But the moon is a sorry one, sad the bird's tune,...
I wandered to a crude coast Like a ghost; Upon the hills I saw fires - Funeral pyres Seemingly and heard breaking Waves like distant cannonades that set the land shaking. ...
"It was not you I came to please, Only myself," flipped she; "I like this spot of phantasies, And thought you far from me." But O, he was the secret spell That led her to the lea! ...