They sleep well here, These fisher-folk who passed their… In fierce Atlantic ways; And found not there, Beneath the long curled wave,

(1887-1895) Through the green boughs I hardly… They twined so close: the sun was… And now the sullen trees in sombre… Stand bare beneath the sinister, s…

Erewhile, before the world was old… When violets grew and celandine, In Cupid’s train we were enrolled… Erewhile! Your little hands were clasped in…

Even now the fragrant darkness of… Had brushed my cheek; and once, in… Her hand upon my hand lay tranquil… What things unspoken trembled in t… Always I know, how little severs…

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,

A little while to walk with thee,… To lean on thee my weak and weary… Then evening comes: the winter sky… The leafless trees are black, the… A little while to hold thee and to…

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…

If we must part, Then let it be like this. Not heart on heart, Nor with the useless anguish of a… But touch mine hand and say:

Goddess the laughter-loving, Aphr… Long have I served thine altars,… Let me have peace of thee, truce o… Heart of my heart have I offered… Yielding my life for the love of t…

The wisdom of the world said unto… ‘_Go forth and run, the race is to… Perchance some honour tarrieth for… ‘As tarrieth,’ I said, ‘for sure,… For I had pondered on a rune of r…

Shall one be sorrowful because of… Which hath no earthly crown, Which lives and dies, unknown? Because no words of his shall ever… Her maiden heart to own

Here, where the breath of the scen… sun-stained air, On a steep hill-side, on a grassy… and heard Only the faint breeze pass in a wh…

I took her dainty eyes, as well As silken tendrils of her hair: And so I made a Villanelle! I took her voice, a silver bell, As clear as song, as soft as praye…

Sleep on, dear, now The last sleep and the best, And on thy brow, And on thy quiet breast Violets I throw.

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…