Chequer'd with woven shadows as I lay
Among the grass, blinking the watery gleam,
14 lines
I heard the dogs howl in the moonlight night;
I went to the window to see the sight;
33 lines, 4 comments
Far from the churchyard dig his grave,
On some green mound beside the wave;
10 lines, 1 comment
Four ducks on a pond,
A grass-bank beyond,
7 lines
See how a Seed, which Autumn flung down,
And through the Winter neglected lay,
17 lines, 1 comment
That which he did not feel, he would not sing;
What most he felt, religion it was to hide
14 lines
Gray, gray is Abbey Assaroe, by Belashanny town,
It has neither door nor window, the walls are broken down;
32 lines, 1 comment
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born;
Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as night and morn.
88 lines
O pale green sea,
With long, pale, purple clouds above -
19 lines
The vast and solemn company of clouds
Around the Sun's death, lit, incarnadined,
14 lines
Amy Margaret's five years old,
Amy Margaret's hair is gold,
12 lines
A sunset's mounded cloud;
A diamond evening-star;
8 lines
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
14 lines
The Boy from his bedroom-window
Look'd over the little town,
16 lines
Down on the shore, on the sunny shore!
Where the salt smell cheers the land;
30 lines
In early morning twilight, raw and chill,
Damp vapours brooding on the barren hill,
58 lines
Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
56 lines, 1 comment
I thought it was the little bed
I slept in long ago;
20 lines
Here the white-ray'd anemone is born,
Wood-sorrel, and the varnish'd buttercup;
13 lines
O English mother, in the ruddy glow
Hugging your baby closer when outside
14 lines
October - and the skies are cool and gray O'er stubbles emptied of their latest sheaf,
15 lines
Doleful was the land, Dull on, every side,
61 lines
By the shore, a plot of ground
Clips a ruined chapel round,
28 lines, 1 comment
Is always Age severe?
Is never Youth austere?
9 lines
O spirit of the Summer-time!
Bring back the roses to the dells;
14 lines
See the pretty planet!
Floating sphere!
28 lines
Saint Margaret's Eve it did befall,
The waves roll so gayly O,
53 lines
Gold tassel upon March's bugle-horn,
Whose blithe reveille blows from hill to hill
14 lines
An Elf sat on a twig,
He was not very big,
34 lines
Hayrick some do spell thy name,
And thy verse approves the same;
4 lines
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