Kiss me and comfort my heart Maiden honest and fine. I am the pilgrim boy Lame, but hunting the shrine; Fleeing away from the sweets,

I know a seraph who has golden eye… And hair of gold, and body like th… Here in the wind I dream her unbo… Is blowing round me, that desire’s… Has touched her pale keen face, an…

We find your soft Utopias as whit… As new-cut bread, and dull as life… O, scribes who dare forget how wil… How human breasts adore alarum bel… You house us in a hive of prigs an…

The Hope of the Resurrection Though I have watched so many mou… O’er the real dead, in dull earth… Those dead seemed but the shadows… That passed and left me in the sun…

If you lay for Iago at the stage… You have missed the moral of the p… He will have a midnight supper wit… They will chirp together and be ga… But the things Iago stands for mu…

A Recitation for Martha Wakefiel… There was a little turtle. He lived in a box. He swam in a puddle. He climbed on the rocks.

“Bring me soft song,” said Aladdi… “This tailor-shop sings not at all… Chant me a word of the twilight, Of roses that mourn in the fall. Bring me a song like hashish

He coveted her portrait. He toiled as she grew gay. She loved to see him labor In that devoted way. And in the end it pleased her,

Twelve snails went walking after n… They’d creep an inch or so, Then stop and bug their eyes And blow. Some folks . . . are . . . deadly…

I saw Lord Buddha towering by my… Saying: “Once more, good youth, I… Saying: “I bring you my fair Law… And from your withering passion fu… Release from that white hand that…

Once, in the city of Kalamazoo, The gods went walking, two and two… With the friendly phoenix, the sta… The speaking pony and singing lion… For in Kalamazoo in a cottage apa…

(A Poem Game.) “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “I saw a ball last night,

(What Grandpa told the Childre… The moon? It is a griffin’s egg, Hatching to-morrow night. And how the little boys will watch With shouting and delight

Star of my heart, I follow from a… Sweet Love on high, lead on where… Where Time is not, and only dream… Star from of old, the Magi-Kings… And a foolish Saxon seeks the man…

’Tis a moonlight night in the spring of the year.” In Which, contrary to Artistic Custom, the moral of the piece is placed before the reader. (From the first Khandaka of the M...