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

As it Were tissue of silver I’ll wear, O Fate, thy grey, And go mistily radiant, clad Like the moon.

Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.

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

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.

Sun and wind and beat of sea, Great lands stretching endlessly’€… Where be bonds to bind the free? All the world was made for me!

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

Little Sister Rose-Marie, Will thy feet as willing-light Run through Paradise, I wonder, As they run the blue skies under, Willing feet, so airy-light?

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

Sea-foam And coral! Oh, I’ll Climb the great pasture rocks And dream me mermaid in the sun’s Gold flood.

Never the nightingale, Oh, my dear, Never again the lark Thou wilt hear; Though dusk and the morning still

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

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

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

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