AUTUMN MORNING AT CAMBRIDGE

    I ran out in the morning, when the air was clean and new
    And all the grass was glittering and grey with autumn dew,
    I ran out to an apple-tree and pulled an apple down,
    And all the bells were ringing in the old grey town.

    Down in the town off the bridges and the grass,
    They are sweeping up the leaves to let the people pass,
    Sweeping up the old leaves, golden-reds and browns,
    Whilst the men go to lecture with the wind in their gowns.

    October 1902


    THE WATCH

    I wakened on my hot, hard bed,
    Upon the pillow lay my head;
    Beneath the pillow I could hear
    My little watch was ticking clear.
    I thought the throbbing of it went
    Like my continual discontent;
    I thought it said in every tick:
    I am so sick, so sick, so sick;
    O Death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
    Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick.


    PRE-EXISTENCE

    I laid me down upon the shore
    And dreamed a little space;
    I heard the great waves break and roar
    The sun was on my face.

    My idle hands and fingers brown
    Played with the pebbles grey;
    The waves came up, the waves went down,
    Both thundering and gay.

    The pebbles smooth and salt and round
    Were warm upon my hands,
    Like little people I had found
    Sitting among the sands.

    The grains of sand completely small
    Soft through my fingers ran;
    The sun shone down upon us all,
    And so my dream began:

    How all of this had been before,
    How ages far away
    I lay on some forgotten shore
    As here I lie today.

    The waves came shining up the sands,
    As here today they shine;
    And in my pre-Pelasgian hands
    The sand was warm and fine.

    I have forgotten whence I came
    Or where my home might be,
    Or by what strange and savage name
    I called that thundering sea.

    I only know the sun shone down
    As still it shines today,
    And friendly-in my fingers brown
    The little pebbles lay.

    1907


    LONDON STREETS

    Villanelle
         'The blundering and cruel ways of nature'

    CHARLES DARWIN

    O Providence, I will not praise,
    Neither for fear nor joy of gain,
    Your blundering and cruel ways.

    This city where the dun fog stays,
    These tired faces in the rain,
    O Providence, I will not praise.

    Here in the mud and wind that slays
    In the cold streets, I scan again
    Your blundering and cruel ways.

    And all men's miserable days,
    And all their ugliness and pain,
    O Providence, I will not praise.

    I will not join the hymns men raise
    Like slaves who would avert, in vain,
    Your blundering and cruel ways.

    At least, in this distracted maze,
    I love the truth and see it plain;
    O Providence, I will not praise
    Your blundering and cruel ways.

    1908


    YOUTH

    A young Apollo, golden-haired,
    Stands dreaming on the verge of strife.
    Magnificently unprepared
    For the long littleness of life.


    TO A FAT LADY SEEN FROM A TRAIN

    O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
    Missing so much and so much?
    O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
    Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
    When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
    And shivering-sweet to the touch?
    O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
    Missing so much and so much?


    A RECOLLECTION

    My father's friend came once to tea.
    He laughed and talked. He spoke to me.
    But in another week they said
    That friendly pink-faced man was dead.

    'How sad…' they said, 'the best of men…'
    So I said too, 'How sad'; but then
    Deep in my heart I thought, with pride,
    'I know a person who has died'.


    A WASTED DAY

    I spoiled the day;
    Hotly, in haste,
    All the calm hours
    I gashed and defaced.

    Let me forget,
    Let me embark,
    Sleep for my boat,
    And sail through the dark.

    Till a new day
    Heaven shall send
    Whole as an apple,
    And kind as a friend.


    IN DORSET

    From muddy road to...