Variant Form Of The Preceding Poem
COME to me, all ye that labour; I will give your spirits rest; Here apart in starry quiet I will give you rest. Come to me, ye heavy laden, sin defiled and care opprest,
Sonnet I
NOR judge me light, tho’ light at times I seem, And lightly in the stress of fortune bear The innumerable flaws of changeful care – Nor judge me light for this, nor rashly deem
My Kingdom
Down by a shining water well I found a very little dell, No higher than my head. The heather and the gorse about In summer bloom were coming out, Some yellow and some red.
My Bed is a Boat
My bed is like a little boat; Nurse helps me in when I embark; She girds me in my sailor’s coat And starts me in the dark. At night I go on board and
It's Forth Across The Roaring Foam
IT’S forth across the roaring foam, and on towards the west, It’s many a lonely league from home, o’er many a mountain crest, From where the dogs of Scotland call the sheep around the
Lo! In Thine Honest Eyes I Read
LO! in thine honest eyes I read The auspicious beacon that shall lead, After long sailing in deep seas, To quiet havens in June ease. Thy voice sings like an inland bird First by
The Moon
The moon has a face like the clock in the hall; She shines on thieves on the garden wall, On streets and fields and harbour quays, And birdies asleep in the forks of the
Fear Not, Dear Friend, But Freely Live Your Days
FEAR not, dear friend, but freely live your days Though lesser lives should suffer. Such am I, A lesser life, that what is his of sky Gladly would give for you, and what of
The Land of Counterpane
When I was sick and lay a-bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me lay, To keep me happy all the day. And sometimes for an hour or
Bed in Summer
In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and see
To Madame Garschine
WHAT is the face, the fairest face, till Care, Till Care the graver – Care with cunning hand, Etches content thereon and makes it fair, Or constancy, and love, and makes it grand?
It Blows A Snowing Gale
IT blows a snowing gale in the winter of the year; The boats are on the sea and the crews are on the pier. The needle of the vane, it is veering to and
In the Highlands
IN the highlands, in the country places, Where the old plain men have rosy faces, And the young fair maidens Quiet eyes; Where essential silence cheers and blesses, And for ever in the hill-recesses
The Far-Farers
THE broad sun, The bright day: White sails On the blue bay: The far-farers Draw away. Light the fires And close the door. To the old homes, To the loved shore, The far-farers Return
Spring Carol
WHEN loud by landside streamlets gush, And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush, With sun on the meadows And songs in the shadows Comes again to me The gift of the tongues of