(For Edward J. Wheeler) Within the Jersey City shed The engine coughs and shakes its h… The smoke, a plume of red and whit… Waves madly in the face of night.

Now is the rhymer’s honest trade A thing for scornful laughter made… The merchant’s sneer, the clerk’s… These are the burden of our pain. Because of you did this befall,

“Dulce et decorum est” The bugle echoes shrill and sweet, But not of war it sings to-day. The road is rhythmic with the feet Of men-at-arms who come to pray.

I went to gather roses and twine t… For I would make a posy, a posy f… I got an hundred roses, the loveli… From the white rose vine and the p… rose tree.

(For A. K. K.) What distant mountains thrill and… Beneath our Lady Folly’s tread? Why has she left us, wise in woe, Shrewd, practical, uncomforted?

(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…

1 When you had played with lif… 2 And made it drink and lust… 3 You flung it back into God’… 4 And thought you did a nobl… 5 “Lo, I have lived and loved…

Because we never build a nest And no one of us ever sings, We are the butt of every jest That strutting loud-mouthed robin… Unless the field with laughter rin…

The air is like a butterfly With frail blue wings. The happy earth looks at the sky And sings.

(For Alden March) With drooping sail and pennant That never a wind may reach, They float in sunless waters Beside a sunless beach.

(For Aline) Monsignore, Right Reverend Bishop Valentinus… Sometime of Interamna, which is c… Now of the delightful Court of He…

(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…

When I am tired of earnest men, Intense and keen and sharp and cle… Pursuing fame with brush or pen Or counting metal disks forever, Then from the halls of Shadowland

In a wood they call the Rouge Bou… There is a new-made grave to-day, Built by never a spade nor pick Yet covered with earth ten metres… There lie many fighting men,

Why is that wanton gossip Fame So dumb about this man’s affairs? Why do we titter at his name Who come to buy his curious wares? Here is a shop of wonderment.