Twohundredthirtyeight

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black....


Twohundredthirtyseven

The low sandy beach and the thin scrub pine, The wide reach of bay and...


Twohundredthirtysix

I will make you brooches and toys for your delight Of bird-song at...


Twohundredthirtyfive

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will...