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

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;

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

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

And the centurion who stood by sai… Truly this was a son of God. Not long ago but everywhere I go There is a hill and a black windy… Portent of hill, sky, day’s eclips…

Oh me, Was there a time When Paradise knew Eve In this sweet guise, so placid and

All day, all day I brush My golden strands of hair; All day I wait and wait.. Ah, who is there? Who calls? Who calls? The gold

He comes from Mass early in the m… The sky’s the very blue Madonna w… The air’s alive with gold! Mark y… The birds sing and the dusted shim… On leaf and fruit?..Per Bacco, wh…

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

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

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

For Aubrey Beardsley’s picture Pierrot is dying: Tiptoe in, Finger touched to lip, Harlequin,

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

Fugitive, wistful, Pausing at edge of her going, Autumn, the maiden, turns, Leans to the earth with ineffable Gesture. Ah, more than

Musicians O Musicians: Heartseas… Heartsease: an you will have me li… Light wind in the small green leav… Play, oh play, my sad heart ease; Birds, shake from your wilding thr…