Poems

The Dance At The Phoenix TO Jenny came a gentle youth From inland leazes lone; His love was fresh as apple-blooth By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone. […]

The Darkling Thrush I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter’s dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems […]

The Dead Drummer. I They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest Uncoffined–just as found: His landmark is a kopje-crest That breaks the veldt around; And foreign […]

The Dead Man Walking They hail me as one living, But don’t they know That I have died of late years, Untombed although? I am but […]

The Difference I Sinking down by the gate I discern the thin moon, And a blackbird tries over old airs in the pine, But the moon […]

The Farm Woman’s Winter I If seasons all were summers, And leaves would never fall, And hopping casement-comers Were foodless not at all, And fragile folk […]

The Fire at Tranter Sweatley’s They had long met o’ Zundays–her true love and she– And at junketings, maypoles, and flings; But she bode wi’ a […]

The Ghost of the Past We two kept house, the Past and I, The Past and I; I tended while it hovered nigh, Leaving me never […]

The Going Why did you give no hint that night That quickly after the morrow’s dawn, And calmly, as if indifferent quite, You would close your […]

The Going of the Battery Wives. (Lament) I O it was sad enough, weak enough, mad enough – Light in their loving as soldiers can be […]