To Plato's dictum
Assent she lends.
All things in common
We hold, as friends.
Once I thought my love was worth the name
If tears came.
When the wound is mortal, now I know,
There's a band in the street, there's a band in the street.
It will play you a tune for a penny—
When I was a child,
I felt the fairies' power.
Of a sudden my dry life
Would burst into flower.
I hated them when I was four years old,
The bright pink berries on the pepper tree.
And now they seem quite beautiful to me.
When I am making poetry I'm good
And happy then.
I live in a deep world of angelhood
Afar from men.
Today is rebels' day. And yet we work—
All of us rebels, until day is done.
And when the stars come out we celebrate
I like the riders
Clad in rose and blue;
Their colours glitter
And their horses too.
I know a room that's dark in daytime hours;
No sunbeams light it,
Whether in months of gloom or months of flowers,