Why should I care for the Ages Because they are old and grey? To me, like sudden laughter,
Fair faces crowd on Christmas night Like seven suns a-row, But all beyond is the wolfish wind
How many million stars there be, That only God hath number'd; But this one only chosen for me
A mountainous and mystic brute No rein can curb, no arrow shoot, Upon whose domed deformed back
Lo! I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold; Grey hairs and golden leaves cry out
If I ever go back to Baltimore, The city of Maryland, I shall miss again as I missed before
I Cut a staff in a churchyard copse, I clad myself in ragged things, I set a feather in my cap
When fishes flew and forests walked And figs grew upon thorn, Some moment when the moon was blood
To teach the grey earth like a child, To bid the heavens repent, I only ask from Fate the gift
Many have Earth's lovers been, Tried in seas and wars, I ween; Yet the mightiest have I seen:
Laugh your best, O blazoned forests, Me ye shall not shift or shame With your beauty: here among you
(On the Embankment in stormy weather.) A livid sky on London And like iron steeds that rear
Priest, is any song-bird stricken? Is one leaf less on the tree? Is this wine less red and royal
Blue-eyed was Elf the minstrel, With womanish hair and ring, Yet heavy was his hand on sword,