Her little face is like a walnut shell With wrinkling lines; her soft, white hair adorns Her withered brows in quaint, straight curls, like horns; And all about her clings an old, sweet smell....
Far out of bounds he's figured - in a race Of West-End traffic pitching to his loss. But if you'd see him in his proper place, Making the browns for bub and grub and doss,...
In the waste hour Between to-day and yesterday We watched, while on my arm - Living flesh of her flesh, bone of her bone - Dabbled in sweat the sacred head...
O, have you blessed, behind the stars, The blue sheen in the skies, When June the roses round her calls? - Then do you know the light that falls From her beloved eyes. ...
These to the glory and praise of the green land That bred my women, and that holds my dead, ENGLAND, and with her the strong broods that stand Wherever her fighting lines are thrust or spread!...
There is a wheel inside my head Of wantonness and wine, An old, cracked fiddle is begging without, But the wind with scents of the sea is fed, And the sun seems glad to shine. ...
O, Falmouth is a fine town with ships in the bay, And I wish from my heart it's there I was to-day; I wish from my heart I was far away from here, Sitting in my parlour and talking to my dear....
What have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere, As the Lord were walking near, Whispering terrible things and dear...
Why, my heart, do we love her so? (Geraldine, Geraldine!) Why does the great sea ebb and flow? - Why does the round world spin? Geraldine, Geraldine, Bid me my life renew:...
Your heart has trembled to my tongue, Your hands in mine have lain, Your thought to me has leaned and clung, Again and yet again, My dear, Again and yet again. ...