And after all—and after all,    Our passionate prayers, and sig… Is life a reckless carnival?    And are they lost, our golden y… Ah, no; ah, no; for, long ago,

These are the flowers of sleep That nod in the heavy noon, Ere the brown shades eastward cree… To a drowsy and dreamful tune— These are the flowers of sleep.

BY the road, near her father’€™s… There groweth a hawthorn tree: Its blossoms are fair and fragrant As the love that I cast from me. It is all a-bloom this morning

CARE is a Poet fine: He works in shade or shine, And leaves’€”you know his sign!'€” No day without its line. He writes with iron pen

The wan light of a stormy dawn Gleamed on a tossing ship: It was the In Memoriam Upon a mourning trip. Wild waves were on the windward bo…

O THE Queen may keep her golden Crown and sceptre of command! I would give them both twice over To be King of Babyland. Sure, it is a wondrous country

What know we of the dead, who say… Or of the life in death below the… What of the mystic laws that rule… Grey realms beyond our poor imagin… Where death is life? The bird wit…

METHOUGHT I came unto a world… Where souls stood thick as grain a… And many reapers, full of pious pr… With rapid scythe-sweeps mowed the… And zealous binders bound them up…

He sat beneath the curling vines That round the gay verandah twined… His forehead seamed with sorrow’s… An old man with a weary mind. His young wife, with a rosy face

THE DAYS go by’€”the days go by… Sadly and wearily to die: Each with its burden of small care… Each with its sad gift of gray hai… For those who sit, like me, and si…

OVER a slow-dying fire, Dreaming old dreams, I am sitting… The flames leap up and expire; A woman sits opposite knitting. I’ve taken a Fate to wife;

CAMILLA calls me heartless: hen… Logic in love has little part. How can I otherwise than heartles… Seeing Camilla has my heart?

The red sun on the lonely lands    Gazed, under clouds of rose, As one who under knitted hands    Takes one last look and goes. Then Pain, with her white sister…

It fell upon a summer night The village folk were soundly slee… Unconscious of the glamour white In which the moon all things was s… One window only showed a light;

Give thou a gift to me From thy treasure-house, O sea! Said a red-lipped laughing girl While the summer yet was young; And the sea laughed back and flung