And the salmon behold, and the ousel too,
My love, we will hear, I and you, we will hear,
The calling afar of the doe and the deer.
And the bird in the branches will cry for us clear,
And the cuckoo unseen in his festival mood;
And death, oh my fair one, will never come near
In the bosom afar of the fragrant wood.
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I have been a hazel-tree, and they hungThe Pilot Star and the Crooked PloughAmong my leaves in times out of mind:I became a rush that horses tread:I became a man, a hater of the wind,Knowing one, out of all things, alone, that his headMay not lie on the breast nor his lips on thc hairOf…
‘Lay me in a cushioned chair;
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I
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O CLOUD-PALE eyelids, dream-dimmed eyes,
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THAT civilisation may not sink,
Quiet the dog, tether the ponyTo a distant post;Our master Caesar is in the tentWhere the maps are spread,His eyes fixed upon nothing,A hand under his head.Like a long-legged fly upon the streamHis mind moves upon silence.That the topless towers be burntAnd men recall that face,Move most gently if move you mustIn this lonely place.She…
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