My mind is like a clamorous market-place.
All day in wind, rain, sun, its babel wells;
15 lines
Winter is fallen early
On the house of Stare;
45 lines
See this house, how dark it is
Beneath its vast-boughed trees!
29 lines
How large unto the tiny fly
Must little things appear!-
14 lines
Sterile these stones
By time in ruin laid.
26 lines
As I was walking,
Thyme sweet to my nose,
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Upon a bank, easeless with knobs of gold,
Beneath a canopy of noonday smoke,
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If you would happy company win,
Dangle a palm-nut from a tree,
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Down the Hill of Ludgate,
Up the Hill of Fleet,
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Dim-berried is the mistletoe
With globes of sheenless grey,
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When the last colours of the day
Have from their burning ebbed away,
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When all, and birds, and creeping beasts,
When the dark of night is deep,
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To Edward Thomas
The haze of noon wanned silver-grey,
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One moment take thy rest.
Out of mere nought in space
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Isled in the midnight air,
Musked with the dark's faint bloom,
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Black lacqueys at the wide-flung door
Stand mute as men of wood.
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Low on his fours the Lion
Treads with the surly Bear;
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The seas of England are our old delight:
Let the loud billow of the shingly shore
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Suppose ... and suppose that a wild little Horse of Magic
Came cantering out of the sky,
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All but blind
In his chambered hole,
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Jagg'd mountain peaks and skies ice-green
Wall in the wild, cold scene below.
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'Won't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?'
Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden;
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Old and alone, sit we,
Caged, riddle-rid men;
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As Ann came in one summer's day,
She felt that she must creep,
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Grief hath pacified her face;
Even hope might share so still a place;
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Dark frost was in the air without,
The dusk was still with cold and gloom,
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Three and thirty birds there stood
In an elder in a wood;
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I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
25 lines, 2 comments
What lovely things
Thy hand hath made:
26 lines
I think and think: yet still I fail —
Why must this lady wear a veil?
22 lines, 1 comment
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