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William H Davies's Poetry, by title

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  •     A summer's morning that has but one voice;
        Five hundred stocks, like golden lovers, lean
    13 lines
  • When I sailed out of Baltimore
    With twice a thousand head of sheep,
    23 lines
  • Thou shalt not laugh, thou shalt not romp,
    Let's grimly kiss with bated breath;
    16 lines
  • Sweet Chance, that led my steps abroad,
    Beyond the town, where wild flowers grow --
    12 lines
  • Good morning, Life--and all
    Things glad and beautiful.
    18 lines
  • The sky is clear,
    The sun is bright;
    24 lines
  • No idle gold -- since this fine sun, my friend,
    Is no mean miser, but doth freely spend.
    12 lines
  • A wondrous city, that had temples there
    More rich than that one built by David's son,
    114 lines
  • My purse is yours, Sweet Heart, for I
    Can count no coins with you close by;
    33 lines
  • Now do I hear thee weep and groan,
    Who hath a comrade sunk at sea?
    24 lines
  • A week ago I had a fire
    To warm my feet, my hands and face;
    12 lines, 2 comments
  • Ah, sweet young blood, that makes the heart
    So full of joy, and light,
    21 lines
  • When April scatters charms of primrose gold
    Among the copper leaves in thickets old,
    16 lines
  • Though I was born in April's prime,
    With many another lamb,
    9 lines
  • My song, that's bird-like in its kind,
    Is in the mind,
    18 lines
  • When our two souls have left this mortal clay
    And, seeking mine, you think that mine is lost--
    23 lines
  • She walks as lightly as the fly
    Skates on the water in July.
    22 lines, 1 comment
  • I hear a merry noise indeed:
    Is it the geese and ducks that take
    21 lines
  • Christmas has come, let's eat and drink--
    This is no time to sit and think;
    41 lines
  • Come, let us find a cottage, love,
    That's green for half a mile around;
    20 lines, 1 comment
  •       I hear it said yon land is poor,
          In spite of those rich cowslips there --
    15 lines
  •   Can I forget the sweet days that have been,
        When poetry first began to warm my blood;
    28 lines
  • When primroses are out in Spring,
    And small, blue violets come between;
    12 lines
  • Thou art not always kind, O sleep:
    What awful secrets them dost keep
    27 lines
  • I know not why I yearn for thee again,
    To sail once more upon thy fickle flood;
    29 lines, 2 comments
  •   When I did wake this morn from sleep,
        It seemed I heard birds in a dream;
    19 lines, 1 comment
  • What exultations in my mind,
    From the love-bite of this Easter wind!
    13 lines
  • We have no grass locked up in ice so fast
    That cattle cut their faces and at last,
    23 lines
  • Thou hadst no home, and thou couldst see
    In every street the windows' light:
    33 lines
  • The Lark that in heaven dim
    Can match a rainy hour
    16 lines
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