The love beyond all measure,
In heaps of living gold.

When April's here, with all her sweet adorning,
And all the joys steal back December hid,
Shall we not laughing run, some happy morning,
And of our treasure lift the leafy lid?
Again to find it dreaming,
Just as we left it still,
Our treasure far out-gleaming
Crocus and daffodil.




THE NEW HUSBANDMAN

Brother that ploughs the furrow I late ploughed,
God give thee grace, and fruitful harvesting,
Tis fair sweet earth, be it under sun or cloud,
And all about it ever the birds sing.

Yet do I pray your seed fares not as mine
That sowed there stars along with good white grain,
But reaped thereof--be better fortune thine--
Nettles and bitter herbs, for all my gain.

Inclement seasons and black winds, perchance,
Poisoned and soured the fragrant fecund soil,
Till I sowed poppies 'gainst remembrance,