I was reading a letter of yours to… The date—O a thousand years ago! The postmark is there—the month wa… How, in God’s name, did I let you… What wonderful things for a girl t…

The sad nights are here and the sa… The air is filled with portents an… Clouds that vastly loom and winds… A mournful prescience Of bright things going hence;

Not that Queen Venus of adulterou… Whose love was lust’s insatiable f… Not hers the house I would be sin… Whose loose-lipped servants seek a… But mine the Venus of that mornin…

The daisied dawn is in the sky, And the young day still dew and dr… When on the innocent morning air There comes a terrifying scream; And the four ends of the sad earth

O little Heart, So much I see Thy hidden smart, So much I long To sing some song

(TO THE OMAR KHAYYAM CLU Great Omar, here to-night we drai… Unto thy long-since transmigrated… Ours all unworthy in thy place to… Ours still to read in life’s encha…

I saw him in a picture, and I fel… He stood in line, The man ‘for mine,’ A tall silk-hatted 'guy’— Right on the call,

When thou art gone, then all the r… Mornings no more shall dawn, Roses no more shall blow, Thy lovely face withdrawn— Nor woods grow green again after t…

Morning comes to little eyes, Wakens birds and butterflies, Bids the flower uplift his head, Calls the whole round world from b… Up jump Geoffrey!

I had no where to go, I had no money to spend: ‘O come with me,’ the Beaver said… ‘I live at the world’s end.’ ‘Does the world ever end!’

Morn hath a secret that she never… ’Tis on her lips and in her maiden… I think it is the way to Paradise… Or of the Fount of Youth the crys… The bee hath no such honey in her…

‘Alice, Alice, put on your things… The birds are calling, the church… The sun is shining, and I am here… Waiting—and waiting—for you, my de… Alice, Alice, doff your gown of n…

(TO EDMUND GOSSE) Still towards the steep Parnassia… The moon-led pilgrims wend, Ah, who of all that start to-day Shall ever reach the end?

Love, art thou lonely to-day? Lost love that I never see, Love that, come noon or come night… Comes never to me; Love that I used to meet

Must I believe this beauty wholly… That in her picture here so deathl… And must I henceforth speak of he… Tells of some face of legend or of… Still here and there remembered-sc…