I know Not these my hands And yet I think there was A woman like me once had hands Like these.

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

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

These be three silent things: The falling snow . . . the hour Before the dawn . . . the mouth of… Just dead.

Thou beautiful and ivory gates That shut my tears away from me - Even, at last, such refuge yield That great, safe doors of Ebony.

Scarlet the poppies Blue the corn-flowers, Golden the wheat. Gold for the Eternal: Blue for Our Lady:

Not thou, White rose, but thy Ensanguined sister is The dear companion of my heart’s Shed blood.

Nor stars . . the dark . . and in The dark the grey Ghost glimmer of the olive trees The black straight rows Of Cypresses.

Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall To speak thy pain, Gently as through the silver dusk The silver rain. Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grie…

What words Are left thee then Who hast squandered on thy Forgetfulness eternity’s I Love?

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

‘Boy, lying Where the long grass Edges the pool’s brim, What do you watch There in the water? The blue

In the cold I will rise, I will b… In waters of ice; myself Will shiver, and shrive myself, Alone in the dawn, and anoint Forehead and feet and hands;

Was it love breathed on us as on t… Dawn breathes for a short space an… Or loved we never at all who but m… With too dim vision the guarded my… Were we unfaithful or were we unwi…

Thou hast Drawn laughter from A well of secret tears And thence so elvish it rings, –mo… And sweet.