14 Songs

In the dark pine-wood 
I would we lay, 
In deep cool shadow 
At noon of day. 

How sweet to lie there, 
Sweet to kiss, 
Where the great pine-forest 
Enaisled is! 

Thy kiss descending 
Sweeter were 
With a soft tumult 
Of thy hair. 

O unto the pine-wood 
At noon of day 
Come with me now, 
Sweet love, away.

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
      And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
  
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,	
      And evening full of the linnet's wings.
  
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;	
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,	
      I hear it in the deep heart's core.

I am in need of music that would flow
 [ ... ]

When I was one-and-twenty
 I heard [a wise man]1 say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
 But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
 But keep your fancy free."
But I was one-and-twenty,
 No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
 I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
 Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
 And sold for endless rue."
And I am two-and-twenty,
 And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And [this]1 same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.

[The]2 glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a-getting
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
[But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times, still succeed the former. ]3

Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

Bright cap and streamers,
He sings in the hollow:
Come follow, come follow,
All you that love.
Leave dreams to the dreamers
That will not after,
That song and laughter
Do nothing move.
 
With ribbons streaming
He sings the bolder;
In troop at his shoulder
The wild bees hum.
And the time of dreaming
Dreams is over--
As lover to lover,
Sweetheart, I come.

 ... 

Darkling I listen; and for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Called him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain -
To thy high requiem become a sod.

I would in that sweet bosom be 
  (O sweet it is and fair it is!) 
Where no rude wind might visit me. 
  Because of sad austerities 
I would in that sweet bosom be. 

I would be ever in that heart 
  (O soft I knock and soft entreat her!) 
Where only peace might be my part. 
  Austerities were all the sweeter 
So I were ever in that heart.

I longed to love a full-boughed beech
  And be as high as he:
I stretched an arm within his reach,
  And signalled unity.
But with his drip he forced a breach,
  And tried to poison me.
 
I gave the grasp of partnership
  To one of other race -	
A plane: he barked him strip by strip
  From upper bough to base;
And me therewith; for gone my grip,
  My arms could not enlace.
 
In new affection next I strove
  To coll an ash I saw,
And he in trust received my love;
  Till with my soft green claw
I cramped and bound him as I wove...
  Such was my love: ha-ha!
 
By this I gained his strength and height
  Without his rivalry.
But in my triumph I lost sight
  Of afterhaps. Soon he,
Being bark-bound, flagged, snapped, fell outright,
  And in his fall felled me!

Though you are in your shining days,
Voices among the crowd
And new friends busy with your praise,
Be not unkind or proud,
But think about old friends the most:
Time's bitter flood will rise,
Your beauty perish and be lost
For all eyes but these eyes.

This heart that flutters near my heart 
  My hope and all my riches is, 
Unhappy when we draw apart 
  And happy between kiss and kiss; 
My hope and all my riches - yes! - 
And all my happiness. 

For there, as in some mossy nest 
  The wrens will divers treasures keep, 
I laid those treasures I possessed 
  Ere that mine eyes had learned to weep. 
Shall we not be as wise as they 
Though love live but a day?

Maxwelton [braes]1 are bonnie
Where early fa's the dew,
And it's there that Annie Laurie
Gie'd me her promise true--
Gie'd me her promise true,
Which ne'er forgot will be;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doune and dee.

Her brow is like the snawdrift,
Her throat is like the swan,
Her face it is the fairest
That e'er the sun shone on--
That e'er the sun shone on;
And dark blue is her e'e;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doune and dee.

Like dew on the gowan lying
Is the fa' o' her fairy feet;
Like the winds in summer sighing,
Her voice is low and sweet--
Her voice is low and sweet;
And she's a' the world to me;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doune and dee.

'What do you make so fair and bright?'

'I make the cloak of Sorrow:
O lovely to see in all men's sight
Shall be the cloak of Sorrow,
In all men's sight.'

'What do you build with sails for flight?'

'I build a boat for Sorrow:
O swift on the seas all day and night
Saileth the rover Sorrow,
All day and night.'

What do you weave with wool so white?'

'I weave the shoes of Sorrow:
Soundless shall be the footfall light
In all men's ears of Sorrow,
Sudden and light.'

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