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…

‘ Oh! bother,’ sang the thrush, ‘I’m in an awful rush, For I’ve got to get ready for the… With feathers from my breast, I’ll line a cosy nest,

The clustering grapes of purple vi… Are crushed to make the crimson wi… The poppies in the grasses deep Are crushed to brew the draught of… The roses, when their glories bloo…

Oh! come to London, young lad, Lots is to be seen! But he said: ‘I cannot come, maid… Till the cuckoos all be dumb, maid… On the hills of green.’

What so dead as my love for you, What so terribly dead! Lay it low ‘neath the grass and de… Bury it deep in an earthy bed, Then put a tombstone over its head

And so we closed the book, wherein… How many words of ecstasy and pain… How oft repeated passion’s deep re… Like ebb and flow of tide, whose e… Upon the hearing of our listening…

Why kinder to the breeze than unto… For oft you let him play within yo… Blow its soft curls about, and fin… The while he whispers low and tend… Into your ear; and yet how cold is…

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…

Oh! why is the world as it is, we… With tears in our voice, and a sig… For nothing remains but an unfinis… While beauty is only hypocrisy’s m… The end of it all—but to die.

You’re just as pretty as the Day, That young and pink above the hill… Trips daintily along her way, With little breezy thrills. I know that when she steps to eart…

Come with me, sweetheart, into It… And press the burning goblet of th… To those cold northern lips, until… Relents beneath its draft of ecsta… Drink in the sun, made liquid in t…

If at some future day we two shoul… Stand face to face before the star… And pull from Love’s dead form th… That time has wound about from hea… I scarcely know what words would c…

Once o’er this hill whereon we sta… Just you and I, hand clasp’d in h… Amid the silence, and the space, A mighty battle rent the air, With dying curse and choking praye…

At close of June’s most burning d… We took a ship and sailed away: In mid-Potomac stream sailed we. To Old Point Comfort by the sea. The heavy hanging air of dusk