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Assault
I
I had forgotten how the frogs must sound
After a year of silence, else I think
I should not so have ventured forth alone
At dusk upon this unfrequented road.
II
I am waylaid by Beauty. Who will walk
Between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!
- Spring
- City Trees
- The Blue-Flag In The Bog
- Journey
- Eel-Grass
- Elegy Before Death
- The Bean-Stalk
- Weeds
- Passer Mortuus Est
- Pastoral
- Assault
- Travel
- Low Tide
- Song Of A Second April
- Rosemary
- The Poet And His Book
- Alms
- Inland
- To A Poet That Died Young
- Wraith
- Ebb
- Elaine
- Burial
- Mariposa
- The Little Hill
- Doubt No More That Oberon
- Lament
- Exiled
- The Death Of Autumn
- Ode To Silence
- Memorial To D. C.
- Epitaph
- Prayer To Persephone
- Chorus
- Elegy
- Dirge
- Sonnets
- Wild Swans
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