"As the southwest that blowing Bala Lake
Fills all the sacred Dee. So past the days."
"In the midnight and flourish of his May."
"Only you would not pass beyond the cape
That has the poplar on it."
"And at the inrunning of a little brook,
Sat by the river in a cove and watch'd
The high reed wave, and lifted up his eyes
And saw the barge that brought her moving down,
Far off, a blot upon the stream, and said,
Low in himself, 'Ah, simple heart and sweet,
You loved me, damsel, surely with a love
Far tenderer than my Queen's!'"
"Rankled in him and ruffled all his heart,
As the sharp wind that ruffles all day long
A little bitter pool about a stone
On the bare coast."
"A carefuler in peril did not breathe
For leagues along that breaker-beaten coast
Than Enoch. . . . And he thrice had pluck'd a life
From the dread sweep of the down-streaming seas."
"All-kindled by a still and sacred fire,
That burned as on an altar."
"With kisses balmier than half-opening buds
Of April, and could hear the lips that kiss'd,
Whispering I knew not what of wild and sweet,
Like that strange song I heard Apollo sing,
While Ilion, like a mist, rose into towers."
"Dearer and nearer, as the rapid of life
Shoots to the fall."
"That sets at twilight in a land of reeds."