Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

The ballad of Chaldon Down- Inert perfection- Song for young lovers in a City- Thanksgiving dinner- The snow storm- English sparrows- Mortal flesh, is not your place in the ground?- Impression: Fog off the Coast of Dorset- The rabbit- Truce for a moment- Not so far as the forest: I. That chill is in the air- II. Branch by branch- III Distressed mind, forbear- IV. Not dead of wounds, not borne- V. Poor passionate thing- Rendezvous- Modern declaration- The fitting- Intention to escape from him- What savage blossom- The road to the past- "Fontaine, je ne biorai pas de ton eau!"- The plaid dress- The true encounter

Czecho-Slovakia- Two voices- Say that we saw Spain die- From a town in a state of siege: I. Lie here, and we shall die, but try to take me- II. Well, we have lived so far; we are alive- III. He has no grudge at all, the grievously- IV. Let me recall his valour, not his love- V. But if you loved me it was long ago- Three sonnets in tetrameter: I. See how these masses mill and swarm- II. His stalk the dark delphinium- III. No further from me than my hand- Underground System- Lines written in Recapitulation- This dusky faith

The princess recalls her one adventure- Short story- To a calvinist in Bali- Pretty Love, I must outlive you- To a young poet- No earthly enterprise- Menses- Huntsman, what quarry?

Song for a lute- For you these is no song- Sonnet in answer to a question- Nobody now throughout the pleasant day- Gone over the enemy now- Over the hollow land

Not even my pride will suffer much- Heart, do not bruise the breast- Rolled in the trough of thick desire- And do you think that love itself- I had not thought so tame a thing- Leap now into this quiet grave- Now from a stout and more imperious day- The time of year ennobles you

Sonnets: Now that the west is washed of clouds and clear- Be sure my coming was a sharp offense- Enormous moon, that rise behind these hills- Now let the mouth of wailing for a time- I, too, beneath your moon, almighty Sex- When did I ecer deny, though this was fleeting- Thou famished grave, I will not fill thee yet- Upon this age, that never speaks its mind- Count them unclean, these tears that turn no mill- My earnestness, which might at first offend