I meant to do my work to-day-
But a brown bird sang in the apple-tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
...
Why should I ask perfection of thee, sweet,
That have so little of mine own to bring?
That thou art beautiful from head to feet--
...
Five inches deep Sir Goldfish lies,
Here last September was he laid,
Poppies these that were his eyes,
...
We that were born, beloved, so far apart,
So many seas and lands,
The gods, one sudden day, joined heart to heart,
Locked hands in hands,
...
What of the darkness? Is it very fair?
Are there great calms and find ye silence there?
Like soft-shut lilies all your faces glow
...
On drives the road-another mile! and still
Time's horses gallop down the lessening hill
O why such haste, with nothing at the end!
...
We are with France--not by the ties
Of treaties made with tongue in cheek,
The ancient diplomatic lies,
The paper promises that seek
...
O never laugh again!
Laughter is dead,
Deep hiding in her grave,
A sacred thing.
...
Stream that leapt and danced
Down the rocky ledges,
All the summer long,
Past the flowered sedges,
...
War
I abhor,
And yet how sweet
The sound along the marching street
...