Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake,
52 lines, 2 comments
I.
If souls could sing to heaven's high King
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There's a barrel-organ carolling across a golden street
In the City as the sun sinks low;
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When Shakespeare came to London
He met no shouting throngs;
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Once more I hear the everlasting sea
Breathing beneath the mountain's fragrant
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Never since English ships went out
To singe the beard of Spain,
16 lines, 4 comments
When daffodils danced in Chuck Hatch, and white clouds
Drew their own shadowy purple across the hills,
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I came to the door of the House of Love
And knocked as the starry night went by;
20 lines, 2 comments
Have you supped at the Inn of Apollo, While the last light fades from the West?
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It is not over yet-the fight Where those immortal dreamers failed.
34 lines, 1 comment
(WHAT THE GHOSTS SAID.) And after all the labour and the pains,
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OUT of her darkened fishing-ports they go, A fleet of little ships, whose every name —
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THE very best ship that ever I knew
—Ah-way O, to me O—
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BUT where's the brown drifter that went out alone ? -Roll and go, and fare you well-
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Now to those who search the deep, Gleam of Hope and Kindly Light,
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Long, long ago, He said, He who could wake the dead
28 lines, 1 comment
O, what is that whimpering there in the darkness? "Let him lie in my arms. He is breathing, I know.
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Old Grey Squirrel might have been
Almost anything —
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A great while ago there was a schoolboy
who lived in a cottage by the sea,
41 lines, 2 comments
The forest of Alzuna hides a pool.
Beside that pool, a shadowy tree up-towers.
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O Hesper-Phosphor, far away
Shining, the first, the last white star,
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Now, in a breath, we’ll burst those gates of gold,
And ransack heaven before our moment fails.
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Moving through the dew, moving through the dew,
Ere I waken in the city—Life, thy dawn makes all things new!
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How like the sky she bends above her child,
One with the great horizon of her pain!
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I found a dreadful acre of the dead,
Marked with the only sign on earth that saves.
45 lines, 1 comment
Time, wouldst thou hurt us? Never shall we grow old.
Break as thou wilt these bodies of blind clay,
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Once, on the far blue hills,
Alone with the pine and the cloud, in those high still places;
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Its quiet graves were made for peace till Gabriel blows his horn.
Those wise old elms could hear no cry
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The daylight moon looked quietly down
Through the gathering dusk on London town
182 lines, 2 comments
This is the song of the wind as it came
Tossing the flags of the nations to flame:
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