John Freeman Poems

Between the beechen hill and the green down
The valley pastures sink;
And the green river runs through their warm green
Northward into the sea.
...

To Thee, Most Holy, Most Obscure, light-hidden,
Shedding light in the darkness of the mind
As gold beams wake the air to birds a-wing;
...

The holy mountains,
The gay streams,
Heavy shadows,
And tall, trembling trees;
...

I saw him as he went
With merry voice and eye.

I met him when he came
...

The rain beat on me as I walked,
In the roadside it ran and muttered.
It seemed the rain to the wind talked
...

A gray day and quiet,
With slow clouds of gray,
And in dull air a cloud that falls, falls
...

O hide me in Thy love, secure
From this earth-clinging meanness.
Lave my uncleanness
In Thy compassionating love!
...

The sea
Was even as a little child that sleeps
And keeps
All night its great unconsciousness of day.
...

Hear me, O beeches! You
That have with ageless anguish slowly risen
From earth's still secret prison
Into the ampler prison of aery blue.
...

I heard a voice upon the window beat
And then grow dim, grow still.
Opening I saw the snowy sill
Marked with the robin's feet.
...