Hearts At Peace, Under An English Heaven.

I Thought When Love For You Died, I Should Die. It's Dead. Alone, Most Strangely, I Live On.

.. . . Would I Were In Grantchester, In Grantchester!

Just Now The Lilac Is In Bloom All Before My Little Room.

Blow Out, You Bugles, Over The Rich Dead! There's None Of These So Lonely And Poor Of Old, But, Dying, Has Made Us Rarer Gifts Than Gold.

Infinite Hungers Leap No More I In The Chance Swaying Of Your Dress; And Love Has Changed To Kindliness.