Uit: The Age of Anxiety door W.H. Auden

                                               After a dreadful
Row with my father, I ran with burning
Cheeks to the pasture and chopped wood, my
Stomach like a stone. I strode that night
Through wicked dreams: waking, I skipped to
The shower and sang, ashamed to recall
With whom or how; the hiss of the water
Composed the tune, I supplied the words
For a fine dirge which fifty years hence
Massed choirs would sing as my coffin passed
Grieved for and great on a gun-carriage.

Uit: Winter comes to Nargothrond door J.R.R. Tolkien

With winding horns winter hunted
In the weeping woods, wild and ruthless.
The floods were freed and fallow waters
Sweeping seaward, swollen, angry,
Filled with flotsam, foaming, turbid
Passed in tumult. The tempest died.
Frost descended from far mountains,
Steel-cold and still. Stony-glinting
Icehung evening was opened wide,
A dome of crystal over deep silence,
Over windless wastes and woods standing
As frozen phantoms under flickering stars.

Uit: The Nameless Isle door C.S. Lewis

Master mariner of the men was I,
Eighteen in all. And every day
We had weather at will. White-topped the seas
Rolled, and the rigging rang like music
While fast and fair the unfettered wind
Followed. Sometimes fine-sprinkling rain
Over our ship scudding sparkled for a moment
And was gone in a glance; then gleaming white
Of cloud-castles was enclosed, and the blue
Of bottomless heaven.

Uit: Orpheus, a Poetic Drama door Owen Barfield

One key of his grace gave he the Muses,
Memory’s daughters. My mother was one.
When most my song soars in splendour,
When ether blossoms in bursts of sound,
Like a butterfly born on its tremblings
Flits my mother, a messenger from Zeus.