Category: Poetry
_Lord, I have seen at harvest festival In a white lamp-lit fishing-village church, How the poor folk, lacking fine decorations, Offer the first-fruits of their various toils: Not only fruit and blossom of the fields, Ripe corn and poppies, scabious, marguerites, Melons and mar...
The house, that house, O now what change has come to it, Its crude red-brick façade, its roof of slate; What imperceptible swift hand has given it A new, a wonderful, a queenly...
3. Part 3Look on this crowd now, calm now, look. Remember now that each one drew Woman's milk (which you partook) And year by year in wonder grew. Scorn not them, nor scorn not their fea...
2. Part 2The dead man's gone, the live man's sad, the dying leaf shakes on the tree, The wind constrains the window-panes and moans like moaning of the sea, And sour's the taste now cull...
1. Part 1_Lord, I have seen at harvest festival In a white lamp-lit fishing-village church, How the poor folk, lacking fine decorations, Offer the first-fruits of their various toils: No...
5. Part 5For many a hillside streamlet There falls with a broken tinkle, Falling and dying, falling and dying. In little cascades and pools, Where the world is furze and heather And flas...