All things uncomely and broken,
all things worn-out and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway,
the creak of a lumbering cart,
The heavy steps of the ploughman,
splashing the wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms
a rose in the deeps of my heart.
The wrong of unshapely things
is a wrong too great to be told,
I hunger to build...
-
-
The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the world's tears,
And all the sorrows of her labouring ships,
And all the burden of her myriad years... -
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. -
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face... -
J’entends les chevaux de l’ombre, secouant leurs lourdes crinières,
Leurs sabots lourds de tumulte, leurs yeux luisant d'un blanc éclat.
Le Septentrion déroule sur eux la nuit lente et insidieuse,
L’Orient dit toute sa joie secrète avant le point du jour,
L’Occident pleure sa pâle rosée et soupire en trépassant,
Le Midi voudrait les couvrir de roses de... -
Quand la porte angélique, flamboyante et retentissante de luths, s’ouvrira,
Quand une immortelle passion respirera dans la mortelle argile,
Quand nos cœurs endureront la couronne tressée d’épines, la voie encombrée,
Les fouets noués, les mains percées de clous, le flanc blessé,
L’éponge lourde d’hysope, les fleurs au bord du Cédron,
Nous nous inclinerons et... -
Je rêvai qu’une était morte en un pays étrange.
Loin de toute main accoutumée,
Et ils avaient cloué les planches au-dessus de sa face,
Les paysans de ce pays,
Et, émerveillés, ils avaient planté dans sa solitude
Un cyprès et un if.
Je vins et j’écrivis sur une croix de bois
(Un homme n’avait rien de mieux à faire) :
« Elle...I Rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow
Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow.
And then I must scrub, and bake, and sweep,
Till stars are beginning to blink and peep;
But the young lie long and dream in their bed
Of the matching of ribbons, the blue and the red,
And their day goes over in idleness,
And they sigh if the wind but lift...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 ’s...O Wanderer in the southern weather,
Our isle awaits us; on each lea
The pea-hens dance; in crimson feather
A parrot swaying on a tree
Rages at his own image in the enamelled sea.There dreamy Time lets fall his sickle
And Life the sandals of her fleetness,
And sleek young Joy is no more fickle,
And Love is kindly and...