(For Kenton) An iron hand has stilled the throa… That throbbed with loud and rhythm… And dammed the flood of silver not… That drenched the world in melody.

(For Aline) From what old ballad, or from what… Did you descend to glorify the ear… Was it from Chaucer’s singing boo… Or did Watteau’s small brushes gi…

(For Sara Teasdale) The lonely farm, the crowded stree… The palace and the slum, Give welcome to my silent feet As, bearing gifts, I come.

1814-1914 When, on a novel’s newly printed p… We find a maudlin eulogy of sin, And read of ways that harlots wand… And of sick souls that writhe in h…

(For Robert Cortez Holliday) If I should live in a forest And sleep underneath a tree, No grove of impudent saplings Would make a home for me.

There’s a brook on the side of Gr… But there’s nothing there now but… I fished there many a Summer day… And I never quit without getting… There was a man, Dave Lilly, who…

Serene he stands, with mist serene… And draws a cloak of trees about h… The thunder roars but cannot break… And from his rugged face the tempe… He does not heed the angry lightni…

1 My shoulders ache beneath my… 2 (Lie easier, Cross, upon Hi… 3 I march with feet that burn… 4 (Tread, Holy Feet, upon my… 5 Men shout at me who may not…

My songs should be as lilies fair, And roses made of crimson light, To lie amid the fragrant hair And on the breast of my delight. Such glory is for them too high;

(For S.M.L.) I like to look at the blossomy tra… But it isn’t half so fine a sight… When it all was covered over with… And over the crisp and radiant roa…

Within the broken Vatican The murdered Pope is lying dead. The soldiers of Valerian Their evil hands are wet and red. Unarmed, unmoved, St. Laurence wa…

Whenever I walk to Suffern along… I go by a poor old farmhouse with… I suppose I’ve passed it a hundre… And look at the house, the tragic… I never have seen a haunted house,…

Her lips’ remark was: “Oh, you ki… Her soul spoke thus (I know it di… “O king of realms of endless joy, My own, my golden grocer’s boy, I am a princess forced to dwell

(For Thomas Walsh) On nights like this the huddled sh… Are like white clouds upon the gra… And merry herdsmen guard their sle… And chat and watch the big stars p…

The roar of the world is in my ear… Thank God for the roar of the wor… Thank God for the mighty tide of… Against me always hurled! Thank God for the bitter and ceas…