love poetry chat

shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
the pale day drowses on the western steep
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
if it
i hold your heart
when i go back to earth
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
in september
there by the window in the old house
i walk down the garden paths
gingham dog and the calico cat
there are three ways in which men take
a mist was driving down