Poems by Robert Laurence Binyon
Our Tree Has Flowers
... And with hand clasped in hand ...
The Threshold
... Heaped with fresh flowers, and down the cool smooth stream ...
In Misty Blue
... Because she breathed, the world was more, ...
Illumination
... Straight--stemmed woods that darkly still ...
Chateau Gaillard
... But a fear Strikes from where these pressing stones conspire ...
Ode For September
... more Than ranks of flesh and blood, but soul with soul at war! ...
As I Walked Through London
... Gathered the griefs of those thousands, and made them my own ...
The Idols
... I.3 There is singing of brooks in the shadow, and high in a stainless ...
A Dream
... Droops toward her shoulder, whose full lips are closed, ...
The Mirror
... Want untold. The look of things forsaken, each in its own place, ...
November
... Together we laughed and talked in the warm--lit room: ...
When I Am Only I
... The entrancing light, and stream ...
One Year Old
... As of light slipping under the showers, ...
An Incident At Cambrai
... It was come from the ends of the earth ...
"How dark, how quiet sleeps the vale below!"
... Life how unlike to thine! These flowers, these trees, ...
