The common growth of Mother Earth
Suffices me—her tears, her mirths
Her humblest mirth and tears.
Part i. St. 12.
A primrose by a river's brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more.
Part i. St. 15.
The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart; he never felt
The witchery of the soft blue sky!
Part i. St. 26.
As if the man had fixed his face,
In many a solitary place,
Against the wind and open sky!
Miscellaneous Sonnets.
Part i. xxx.
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.