‘YOUR eyes that once were never
Are bowed in sotrow under pendulou
Because our love is waning.’
And then She:
‘Although our love is waning, let

THE dews drop slowly and dreams g
Suddenly hurtle before my dream-aw
And then the clash of fallen horse
Of unknown perishing armies beat a
We who still labour by the cromlec

CRAZED through much child-beari
The moon is staggering in the sky;
Moon-struck by the despairing
Glances of her wandering eye
We grope, and grope in vain,

Things out of perfection sail,
And all their swelling canvas wear
Nor shall the self-begotten fail
Though fantastic men suppose
Building-yard and stormy shore,

WHAT sort of man is coming
To lie between your feet?
What matter, we are but women.
Wash; make your body sweet;
I have cupboards of dried fragranc

FIVE-AND-TWENTY years have g
Since old William Pollexfen
Laid his strong bones down in deat
By his wife Elizabeth
In the grey stone tomb he made.

The First. My great-grandfather s
In Grattan’s house.
The Second. My great-grandfather
A pot-house bench with Oliver Gol
The Third. My great-grandfather’s

SHAKESPEAREAN fish swam the
Romantic fish swam in nets coming
What are all those fish that lie g

YOU waves, though you dance by my
Though you glow and you glance, th
In the Junes that were warmer tha
When I was a boy with never a cra
The herring are not in the tides a

Never give all the heart, for love
Will hardly seem worth thinking of
To passionate women if it seem
Certain, and they never dream
That it fades out from kiss to kis