O Lady, I have looked on thee onc… Thou too hast looked on me, as tho… And though the joy was pain, the p… Bliss that more happy lovers well… Captives feast richly on a little…

Tell me, strange heart, so mysteri… Unto what end? Body and soul so mysteriously meet… Strange friend and friend; Hand clasped in hand so mysterious…

Paths that wind O’er the hills and by the streams I must leave behind— Dawns and dews and dreams. Trails that go

O spirit of Life, by whatsoe’er a… Known among men, even as our fathe… Before thee, and as little childre… For counsel in Life’s dread predi… Even we, with all our lore,

The valiant girls—of them I sing— Who daily to their business go, Happy as larks, and fresh as sprin… They are the bravest things I kno… At eight, from out my lazy tower,

To James Ashcroft Noble, Poet and Critic, a small acknowle… unforgotten kindness Inscriptions Poet, a truce to your song!

‘The old gods pass,’ the cry goes… ‘Lo! how their temples strew the g… Nor mark we where, on new-fledged… Faith, like the phoenix, soars and…

Once we met, and then there came Like a Pentecostal flame, A word; And I said not, Only thought,

(TO MRS. PERCY DEARMER) A poet hungered, as well he might– Not a morsel since yesternight! And sad he grew—good reason why— For the poet had nought wherewith…

(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?

April is in the world again, And all the world is filled with f… Flowers for others, not for me! For my one flower I cannot see, Lost in the April showers.

What shall I sing when all is sun… And every tale is told, And in the world is nothing young That was not long since old? Why should I fret unwilling ears

‘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…

Always thy book, too late acknowle… Now when thine eyes no earthly pag… Blinded with death, or blinded wit… Of love’s own lore celestial. Sma… Forsooth, for thee to read my eart…

Poet, whose words are like the tig… Sealed in the capsule of a silver… Still at your art we wonder as we… The art dynamic charging each word… Seeds of the silver flower of Eme…