Come not before me now, O visiona… Me tempest-tost, and borne along l… Troublous and dark and stormy thou… Not here and now may we commingle… Lest the loud anguish of the water…

By the pale marge of Acheron, Me thinks we shall pass restfully, Beyond the scope of any sun. There all men hie them one by one, Far from the stress of earth and s…

When this, our rose, is faded, And these, our days, are done, In lands profoundly shaded From tempest and from sun: Ah, once more come together,

A song of the setting sun! The sky in the west is red, And the day is all but done; While yonder up overhead, All too soon,

Beyond the need of weeping, Beyond the reach of hands, May she be quietly sleeping, In what dim nebulous lands? Ah, she who understands!

Without, the sullen noises of the… The voice of London, inarticulate… Hoarse and blaspheming, surges in… The silent blessing of the Immacu… Dark is the church, and dim the wo…

Come hither, child, and rest, This is the end of day, Behold the weary West! Sleep rounds with equal zest Man’s toil and children’s play,

(For Arthur Symons) I was not sorrowful, I could not… And all my memories were put to sl… I watched the river grow more whit… All day till evening I watched it…

This libation, Cupid, take, With the lilies at thy feet; Cherish Pierrot for their sake Send him visions strange and sweet… While he slumbers at thy feet.

All that I had I brought, Little enough I know; A poor rhyme roughly wrought, A rose to match thy snow: All that I had I brought.

There comes an end to summer, To spring showers and hoar rime; His mumming to each mummer Has somewhere end in time, And since life ends and laughter,

Oh, I would live in a dairy, And its Colin I would be, And many a rustic fairy Should churn the milk with me. Or the fields should be my pleasur…

SPLEEN Around were all the roses red, The ivy all around was black. Dear, so thou only move thine head… Shall all mine old despairs awake!

Wine and woman and song, Three things garnish our way: Yet is day over long. Lest we do our youth wrong, Gather them while we may:

Let be at last; give over words an… Vainly were all things said: Better at last to find a place for… Only dead. Silence were best, with songs and…