Not far, not far into the night, These level swords of light can pierce; Yet for her faith does England fight, Her faith in this our universe; Believ… - Alfred Noyes

"At Paske began our morrice And, ere Pentecost, our May; Because, albeit your words be true, You know not what you say. You chatter in church like jackdaws, Words that would wake the dead, Were there one breath of life in you, One drop of blood," he said.

And at our feet unbroken lay The glass that had whirled us thither away: And in the grass, among the flowers We sat and wished all sorts of things: O, we were wealthier than kings! We ruled the world for several hours! And then, it seemed, we knew not why, All the daisies began to die. We wished them alive again; but soon The trees all fled up towards the moon Like peacocks through the sunlit air: And the butterflies flapped into silver fish; And each wish spoiled another wish; Till we threw the glass down in despair; For, getting whatever you want to get, Is like drinking tea from a fishing net.

Critics, you have been so kind, I would not have you think me blind To all the wisdom that you preach; Yet before I strictlier run In straiter lines of chiselled speech, Give me one more hour, just one Hour to hunt the fairy gleam That flutters through this childish dream.