After a Flood

Thirty days since the water retreated yet wetness persists.
On the window lattice, on the walls, flood marks remain.
Long autumn drizzles continue, clear days still very rare.
Each time I hear the sound of rain, my heart chills.

Transmutation

There is happiness for me,
In sight of a great sun-warmed tree.
I pray that roots may touch my head,
When I am dead.
Maybe there is some splendid rhythm in confusion,
And there is hope in dissolution.
I should have little fear of ugly changes, little grief,
If the material of my thought were quick transmuted to a leaf.

After a Latin Epitaph in Madingley Church

Bring roses, singing girls, soft pansies strew
To decorate these little ashes new;
Nor with one cry or longing tears invade
The sleeping stillness of an infant maid,
Who in one showery day was here and gone,
To God's invariable peace passed on.
He whispered to her soul; without a stain,
She, to his goodness, gave it back again.

Two Little Blackbirds

Two little blackbirds singing in the sun,
One flew away and then there was one;
One little blackbird, very black and tall,
He flew away and then there was the wall.
One little brick wall lonely in the rain,
Waiting for the blackbirds to come and sing again.

Like to the Grass That's Green Today

1. Like to the grass that's green today Or like the flower in the month of May
Or like the smoke that 'cends on high Hereto, O man, I thee descry.
2. The flower that's fresh today, tomorrow dies; The grass cut down, and so it lies.
The lofty smoke by blast of wind Is so dispersed you can't it find.
3. They wither, fade, consume away, No time nor art can make them stay,
Thou canst not clip the wings of time; But it may clip thee in thy prime.

The Thought Eternal

Whether day my spirit's yearning
Unto far, blue hills has led,
Or the night lit all the burning
Constellations at my head—
Hours of light or hours nocturnal
Do I praise our mortal fate:
If man think the thought eternal
He is ever fair and great.

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