Charlotte Mary Mew

Remember me and smile, as smiling too, I have remembered things that went their way— The dolls with which I grew too wise to play— Or over-wise—kissed, as children do,
And so dismissed them; yes, even as yoy Have done with this poor piece of ...

Lord when I look at lovely things which pass, Under old trees the shadow of young
Dancing to please the wind along the grass, Or the gold stillness of the August sun on the August sheaves;
Can I believe there is a heavenlier world than t...

Up here, with June, the sycamore throws Across the window a whispering screen; I shall miss the sycamore more I suppose,
Than anything else on this earth that is out in green
But I mean to go through the door without fear, Not caring muc...

Let us remember Spring will come
To the scorched, blackened woods, where the wounded
Wait with their old wise patience for the heavenly rain,
Sure of the sky: sure of the sea to send its healing breeze,

It is the clay what makes the earth stick to his spade;
He fills in holes like this year after year;
The others have gone; they were tired, and half
But I would rather be standing here;

Who thinks of June’s first rose today
Only some child, perhaps, with shining eyes and rough bright hair will reach it down
In a green sunny lane, to us almost as far
As are the fearless stars from these veiled lamps of town...

Tide be runnin' the great world over:'Twas only last June month I mind that
Was thinkin' the toss and the call in the breast of the
So everlastin' as the sea
Heer's the same little fishes that sputter an swim,