A flickering light near spent Her pale hand bore. Have you seen Angelique? Will she know the place Dead feet must find,

Than spring’s new scents The winter’s earliest wind Blows from the hills the first fai… Of Snow. Why have I

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

Grey gaolers are my griefs That will not let me free; The bitterness of tears Is warder unto me. I may not leap or run;

Not thou, White rose, but thy Ensanguined sister is The dear companion of my heart’s Shed blood.

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

So may you sleep alway, My baby, my dear son: Amen, Amen, Amen. My baby, my dear son.

My songs to sell, sweet maid! I pray you buy. Here’s one will win a lady’s tears… Here’s one will make her gay, Here’s one will charm your true lo…

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

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

The poet pursues his beautiful the… The preacher his golden beatitude; And I run after a vanishing dream… The glittering, will-o’-the-wispis… Of the properly scholarly attitude…

‘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…

I know Not these my hands And yet I think there was A woman like me once had hands Like these.

Too far afield thy search. Nay, t… At thine own elbow potent Memory… Thy double, and eternity is cupped In the pale hollow of those ghostl…

Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,