July 23rd, 1906 Across the hills a tender shadow s… Like thought upon the face of one… And thro’ the silence rang some di… A vague sweet music in its every t…

Kind Earth, upon whose mother bre… The fruitful trees in time of spri… Put forth their endless blossoming From North to South, from East t… Whose sweet deep-furrowed soil is…

To-day the still, deep mind of the… Has steeped in longing her wistful… A sense of wonder and glad surpris… Thrills thro’ her heart with a tho… The grave All-Mother looks up and…

Song Dear, perchance 'neath the frost a… One little golden flower is sleepi… You shall find it, for you will kn… Whither at dawn the sun goes peepi…

The noontide showers have drifted… The sunset’s on the hill, The lights be gleaming through the… Adown by Clincher’s Mill. It’s such a pretty evening, maid.

Through the rustling river grasses Warm and sweet the young wind pass… Blowing shyly soft caresses To their dewy emerald tresses. All along the silver sands

Upon a Sunday afternoon, When no one else was by, The httle girl from Hanley way. She came and walked with I. We climbed nigh to the Beacon top…

To meet almost as strangers, who h… Such lovers in the past! no glad d… To thrill our senses, till the wro… For very joy—I wonder will your m… Be happy? it seems years since I…

The world has grown unreal to-day Far out upon the Zuyder Zee! We drift towards a mystic isle, With scarce a breath of wind the w… I hear the murmur of the tide,

A GLORY is this autumn day. That stretches far across the land… To where the sea along the sand Sings kindly, with a gentle lay Upon its lips. The gleam and sway

The sun has set; Beloved see that… Wan with desire, pale in the after… Above the hill top hanging very lo… As though she stooped from her hig… To kiss this earth, because she lo…

‘ Swift away, swift away,’ Sang the fickle swallow, Oh! the fickle swallow, Flying to the sun! ‘Come, my little brothers,

Once Youth and Innocence, side by… With flaming swords at a garden ga… Stood forth in silence, to watch a… Lest lust and evil their might def… Love’s rarest fruits in that garde…

Where shall we make us a cosy home… Up in a high pine tree? Suppose the squirrel deserts his n… And we could only grow small and r… Under the twigs, laid so daintily,