English

You come with the light on your face
Of the turn of a river from trees to the open sun,
You are the wandering spirit of the most beloved place—
And yet you are a joy not there begun
Nor anywhere, but always about to be,
The invisible succeeding crest
That follows from the open sea
And shall be loveliest.

I have no language, hardly any word
To name you with, I have no flight of hands
To swim your surface closer than a bird:
For endless changing countermands
Your face and blinds me blacker than a crest of sun,

There were tiny flames in her eyes,
Her mouth was a flame,
And her flesh. . . . . . .
Now she is ashes.

For Exmoor--
For Exmoor, where the red deer run, my weary heart doth cry:
She that will a rover wed, far her feet shall hie.
Narrow, narrow, shows the street, dull the narrow sky.
--Buy my cherries, whiteheart cherries, good my masters, buy!

For Exmoor--
O he left me, left alone, aye to think and sigh--
"Lambs feed down yon sunny coombe, hind and yearling shy
Mid the shrouding vapours walk now like ghosts on high.'
--Buy my cherries, blackheart cherries, lads and lasses, buy!

For Exmoor--

For every evil under the sun,
There is a remedy, or there is none.
If there be one, try and find it;
If there be none, never mind it.

George and Genevieve Geronimo with a with whether they thought they were with whether.
Without their finding it out. Without. Their finding it out. With whether.
George whether they were about. With their finding their whether it finding it out whether with their finding about it out.
George with their finding it with out.
George whether their with their it whether.
Redoubt out with about.
With out whether it their whether with out doubt.
Azure can with our about.
It is welcome welcome thing.
George in are ring.
Lain away awake.

For Danny whistling slowly
" Down in Tennessee "
A fat white shoat by the trough
Lifts his snout a moment to hear,
Among the guzzling and slavering comrades,
Squeezing and forcing:
And begins to feed again.
Whenever a certain note comes
He will raise his jaws
His unturning eyes,
Then lean again to scoop up the swill.

For all the saints who from their labors rest,
Who thee by faith before the world confessed,
Thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
Alleluia.

Thou wast their rock, their fortress and their might:
Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;
Thou in the darkness drear, the one true Light.
Alleluia.

O may thy soldiers, faithful, true and bold,
Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
And win, with them, the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia.

O blest communion, fellowship divine!

For all the gracious gifts in harvests fair
In things material whose goodly share
I richly prize;
For man's abundant wealth that lies in sight,
And for the sense of power and of might
With which to meet my foe, and fight the fight,
My thanks arise.

But for the richer gifts of Love and Peace
That bring the soul a sense of sweet release
From pressing care;
For mercies shown; for greater growth of soul;
For light when clouds of deadly dark uproll
To point the way to some more lofty goal,
And lead us there;

For a man that is almost blind,
Lat him go barhed all day agein the wind,
Till the sonne be set.
At even wrap him in a cloke
And put him in a hous full of smoke,
And loke that every hol be well shet.

And when his eyen begine to rope,
Fill hem full of brimstone and sope,
And hill him well and warm:
And if he see not by the next mone,
As well at midnight as at none,
I shall lese my right arm!

For a long time, I was nailed to the pillory,
And some women, seeing me suffering, laughed.

Then, some men took mud in their hands
With which to spatter my temple and cheeks.

The sobs welled up in me, swelling like waves,
But my pride made me choke back the tears.

No one said, ‘She is perhaps less evil than
We suspect, she is perhaps a poor soul.’

The square was public and everyone had come,
And the women laughed in their naive way.

They tossed fruits back and forth to the tune of songs,