(E. L. G.) BENEATH a knap where flown Nestlings play, Within walls of weathered stone, Far away

What of the faith and fire within… Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray, To hazards whence no tears can win…

When the hamlet hailed a birth    Judy used to cry: When she heard our christening mir…    She would kneel and sigh. She was crazed, we knew, and we

at news of her death Not a line of her writing have I Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame i… I may picture her there;

AS evening shaped I found me on a… Which sight could scarce sustain: The black lean land, of featureles… Was like a tract in pain. “This scene, like my own life,” I…

I found me in a great surging spac… At either end a door, And I said: “What is this giddyin… With no firm—fixéd floor, That I knew not of before?”

In the third-class seat sat the jo… And the roof-lamp’s oily flame Played down on his listless form a… Bewrapt past knowing to what he wa… Or whence he came.

Once more the cauldron of the sun Smears the bookcase with winy red, And here my page is, and there my… And the apple-tree shadows travel… Soon their intangible track will b…

It was a wet wan hour in spring, And Nature met King Doom beside… Wherein Hodge trudged, all blithe…    The Mother’s smiling reign.    "Why warbles he that skies are…

Who were the twain that trod this… So many times together Hither and back, In spells of certain and uncertain… Commonplace in conduct they

When mid-autumn’s moan shook the n… And sedges were horny, And summer’s green wonderwork falt… On leaze and in lane, I fared Yell’ham-Firs way, where…

Queer are the ways of a man I kno… He comes and stands In a careworn craze, And looks at the sands And in the seaward haze

“Poor wanderer,” said the leaden s… “I fain would lighten thee, But there are laws in force on hig… Which say it must not be.” —"I would not freeze thee, shorn o…

The sun said, watching my watering…    "Some morn you’ll pass away; These flowers and plants I parch…    Who’ll water them that day? "Those banks and beds whose shape…

Sunned in the South, and here to-…    —If all organic things Be sentient, Flowers, as some men…    What are your ponderings? How can you stay, nor vanish quite