‘WHY do You thus devise Evil against her?’ ‘For that She is beautiful, delicate; Therefore.’

JUST now, Out of the strange Still dusk . . . as strange, as st… A white moth flew . . . Why am I… So cold?

Little my lacking fortunes show For this to eat and that to wear; Yet laughing, Soul, and gaily go! An obol pays the Stygian fare. London, 1910

The sun is warm today, O Romulus, and on Thine older Palentine the birds Still sing.

‘Let me be young,’ the Latmian sh… ‘And let me have on night-time hil… Whom she of Cynthus saw, Heaven’s… And gave his youth and dreams her… What news comrade upon the mountai…

The long night through and still a… Estranged from eyes that very wear… Makes blind to dawn.

Burdock, Blue aconite, And thistle and thorn. .of these Singing I wreathe my pretty wreat… O’death.

Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break f… And fall.

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

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

How can you lie so still? All day… And never a blade of all the green… To show where restlessly you toss… And fling a desperate arm or draw… Stiffened and aching from their lo…

In the cold I will rise, I will b… In waters of ice; myself Will shiver, and shrive myself, Alone in the dawn, and anoint Forehead and feet and hands;

Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look In the pages of my book; And as these thy hand doth turn, Know here is my funeral urn.

THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?

No guile? Nay, but so strangely He moves among us. . Not this Man but Barabbas! Release to us Barabbas!