Etches content thereon and makes it fair,
Or constancy, and love, and makes it grand?
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YOU remember, I suppose,
And how his faceWoke to trill and caroletteAll the cages that were setAbout the place.In the tender morning lightAll around lay strange and brightAnd still and sweet,And the gray doves unafraidWent their morning promenadeAlong the street.
The Sick Child
CHILD.O Mother, lay your hand on my brow!O mother, mother, where am I now?Why is the room so gaunt and great?Why am I lying awake so late?MOTHER.Fear not at all: the night is still.Nothing is here that means you ill –Nothing but lamps the whole town through,And never a child awake but you.CHILD.Mother, mother, speak…
BEYOND the gates thou gav’st a field to till;
A farm, d’ye say? Is this a farm to you,Where for all woods I spay one tuft of rue,And that so rusty, and so small a thing,One shrill cicada hides it with a wing;Where one cucumber covers all the plain;And where one serpent rings himself in vainTo enter wholly; and a single snailEats all and…
I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited,
Do slumber wholly; nor shall know at allThe weariness of changes; nor perceiveImmeasurable sands of centuriesDrink of the blanching ink, or the loud soundOf generations beat the music down.
Of all my verse, like not a single line;
That title from a better man I stole:Ah, how much better, had I stol’n the whole.
I WILL make you brooches and toys for your delight
I will make a palace fit for you and me,Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room,Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom,And you shall wash your linen and keep your body whiteIn rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.And…