Lost, Lost! One Moment Knelled The Woe

Oh, Good Gigantic Smile O' The Brown Old Earth, This Autumn Morning! How He Sets His Bones To Bask I' The Sun, And Thrusts Out Knees And Feet. From The Ripple To Run Over In Its Mirth

A Man In Armor Is His Armor's Slave.

All Poetry Is Difficult To Read - The Sense Of It Anyhow.

Oh, To Be In England Now That April's There.

Open My Heart, And You Will See Graved Inside Of It ‘italy.'