Keep thou Thy tearless watch All night but when blue-dawn Breathes on the silver moon, then… Then weep!

Not spring’s Thou art, but hers, Most cool, most virginal, Winter’s, with thy faint breath, t… Rose-tinged.

A-sway, On red rose, A golden butterfly. . And on my heart a butterfly Night-wing’d.

The cold With steely clutch Grips all the land. .alack The little people in the hills Will die!

More dim than wining moon Thy face, mort faint Than is the falling wind Thy voice, yet do Thine eyes most strangely glow,

Reap, reap the grain and gather The sweet grapes from the vine; Our Lord’s mother is weeping, She hath nor bread nor wine; She is weeping. The Queen of Hea…

But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!

Dost thou Not feel them slip, How cold! how cold! the moon’s Thin wavering finger-tips, along Thy throat?

(1) The rose new-opening saith, And the dew of the morning saith, (Fallen leaves and vanished dew) Remember death.

Look up . . . From bleakening hills Blows down the light, first breath Of wintry wind . . . look up, and… The snow!

These be three silent things: The falling snow . . . the hour Before the dawn . . . the mouth of… Just dead.

Still as On windless nights The moon-cast shadows are, So still will be my heart when I Am dead.

Great Kings were dust and all the… Did my harp’s taut and burnished s… The fragrance of dead ladies’ love… Blew never down but for my lute.

If illness’ end be health regained… Will pay you, Asculapeus, when I…

What words Are left thee then Who hast squandered on thy Forgetfulness eternity’s I Love?