WHO is it beams the merriest
At killing a man, the laughing one?
You are the one I nominate,
God of the rivers of Babylon.
...
My window looks upon a wood
That stands as tangled as it stood
When God was centuries too young
To care how right he worked, or wrong,
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'How many goodly creatures are there here!'
Miranda doted on the sight of seamen,
The very casual adventurers
...
So he took her as anointed
In the part he had appointed,
She was lips for smiling faintly,
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At last came threshing-time, the manly season.
We kept the thresher thundering by daylight,
And rested all the sweeter after dark,
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Two that could not have lived their single lives
As can some husbands and wives
Did something strange: they tensed their vocal cords
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WHEN hurrying home on a rainy night
And hearing tree-tops rubbed and tossed,
And seeing never a friendly star
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If the power of God were mine, and the ample turn,
I never could dwell in my law, which is 'stablished and stern,
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He is a tower unleaning. But how he’ll break
If Heaven assault him with full wind and sleet,
And what uproar tall trees concumbent make!
...