Madonna, Madonnina Sat by the grey road-side, Saint Joseph her beside, And Our Lord at her breast; Oh they were fain to rest,

JUST now, Out of the strange Still dusk . . . as strange, as st… A white moth flew . . . Why am I… So cold?

Fugitive, wistful, Pausing at edge of her going, Autumn, the maiden, turns, Leans to the earth with ineffable Gesture. Ah, more than

A flickering light near spent Her pale hand bore. Have you seen Angelique? Will she know the place Dead feet must find,

More dim than wining moon Thy face, mort faint Than is the falling wind Thy voice, yet do Thine eyes most strangely glow,

But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!

In a cave born (Mary said) In a cave is My Son buried

Dost thou Not feel them slip, How cold! how cold! the moon’s Thin wavering finger-tips, along Thy throat?

Guardian Of The Treasure Of Sol… And Keeper Of the Prophet’s Armo… My tent A vapour that The wind dispels and but

I have minded me Of the noon-day brightness, And the cricket’s drowsy Singing in the sunshine. . I have minded me

With night’s Dim veil and blue I will cover my eyes, I will bind close my eyes that are So weary.

Heard ye the maidens Went through the meadows, Early, O, early, While yet the dew was Wet on the grass?

Avis, the fair, at dawn Rose lightly from her bed, Herself arrayed, Avis, the fait, the maid, In vestiment of lawn;

The clustered Gods, the marching… The mighty-limbed, deep-bosomed T… The shimmering grey-gold London f… I wish that Phidias could see!

Keep thou Thy tearless watch All night but when blue-dawn Breathes on the silver moon, then… Then weep!