MS Collections

"Never" you said.
And I went back the road and wept;
And wished to be dead
Because I'd kept
An empty tryst.

You came and turned the leaves of my mind
Backward till I could recall
How many times I had loved before
Foolishly, vainly.

In the stoney corner
Under an old thorn
The ass is dreaming
Perhaps of green corn.

The genius of a child can repair
The ruin that dark love has made
So among children be no grief afraid
Of the taloned dove that dreams no delicate prayer.

A furrow is the string by which
The Destinies draw up the coach of fate
O furrowed field, who shall ditch
Dawn-headlands and leave no open gate.

For E.S.

You sat on a grey evening ditch
When the August dusk was full of stooks.

From my people I went
To the life hinted
In primrose and bluebell tent
In the poem sung or printed.