Hear thou my lamentation, Eros, Aphrodite’s son! My heart is broken and my days are… Where the woods are dark and the s… Eros!

Guardian Of The Treasure Of Sol… And Keeper Of the Prophet’s Armo… My tent A vapour that The wind dispels and but

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

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

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

If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!

Peter stands by the gate, And Michael by the throne. ‘Peter, I would pass the gate And come before the throne.’ ‘Whose spirit prayed never at the…

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

With night’s Dim veil and blue I will cover my eyes, I will bind close my eyes that are So weary.

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

Joy! Joy! Joy! The hills are glad, The valleys re-echo with merriment… In my heart is the sound of laught… And my feet dance to the time of i…

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

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

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

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