When we are old and these rejoicing veins
Are frosty channels to a muted stream,
And out of all ou
Ho, Giant! This is I!
I have built me a bean-stalk into your sky!
La,—but it's lovely, up so hig
This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are b
Love, though for this you riddle me with darts,
And drag me at your chariot till I die, --
I had forgotten how the frogs must sound
After a year of silence, else I think
I should not s
Just a rainy day or two
In a windy tower,
That was all I had of you—
Saving half an hour.
She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tal
No, I will go alone.
I will come back when it's over.
Yes, of course I love you.
No, it will not
I shall die, but
that is all that I shall do for Death.
I hear him leading his horse out of the s
Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart
I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain,
Being Young and Green, I said in love's despite:
Never in the world will I to living wight
When I too long have looked upon your face,
Wherein for me a brightness unobscured
Save by the m
And do you think that love itself,
Living in such an ugly house,
Can prosper long?
We meet and pa
I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by y
Cold wind of autumn, blowing loud
At dawn, a fortnight overdue,
Jostling the doors, and tearing th
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
Nor yet a floa
I'll keep a little tavern
Below the high hill's crest,
Wherein all grey-eyed people
May set them
In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year,
I walked the road beside my dear.
Sorrow like a ceaseless rain
Beats upon my heart.
People twist and scream in pain,—
Dawn will f
Whereas at morning in a Jeweled Crown
I bit my fingers and was hard to please,
Having shook disast
(On reflecting that the world
is ready to go to war again)
Detestable race, continue to expunge
Silver bark of beech, and sallow
Bark of yellow birch and yellow
Twig of willow.
Stripe of gree
And you as well must die, belovèd dust,
And all your beauty stand you in no stead;
I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
And what did I see I had not seen before?
Give away her gowns,
Give away her shoes;
She has no more use
For her fragrant gowns;
I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick
My heart is what it was before,
A house where people come and go;
But it is winter with your love,
God had called us, and we came;
Our loved Earth to ashes left;
Heaven was a neighbor's house,
Hard seeds of hate I planted
That should by now be grown,—
Rough stalks, and from thick stamens
The trees along this city street,
Save for the traffic and the trains,
Would make a sound as thin