Frances Darwin Cornford

I
AN out in the morning, when the air was clean and new,
And all the grass was glittering and grey with autumn dew,
I ran out to the apple tree and pulled an apple down,

I Had a little dog, and my dog was very small;
He licked me in the face, and he answered to my call;
Of all the treasures that were mine,
I loved him most of all

HE poplars in the fields of France Are golden ladies come to dance ;
But yet to see them there is none But I and the September sun
The girl who in their shadow sits Can only see the sock she knits ;
Her dog is watching all the day T...

A young Apollo, golden-haired,
Stands dreaming on the verge of strife,
Magnificently
For the long littleness of life

I laid me down upon the shore And dreamed a little space; I heard the great waves break and roar; The sun was on my face
My idle hands and fingers brown Played with the pebbles grey; The waves came up, the waves went down, Most thundering and...

Brave English language, you are strong as trees,
Yet intricate and stately
Thus one
Through branches clear-embroidered stars

With what attentive courtesy he
Over his instrument;
Not as a lordly conquerer who
Command both wire and wood,

HE thistles on the sandy flats Are courtiers with crimson hats ;
The ragworts, growing up so straight,
Are emperors who stand in state,
And march about, so proud and bold,

I
ED on my hot, hard bed;
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could

O why do you walk through the fields in gloves, Missing so much and so much
O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves And shivering sweet to the ...