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

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

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

So may you sleep alway, My baby, my dear son: Amen, Amen, Amen. My baby, my dear son.

THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?

Well and If day on day Follows and weary year On year . . . and ever days and ye… Well?

I make my shroud, but no one knows… So shimmering fine it is and fair, With stitches set in even rows, I make my shroud, but no one knows… In door-way where the lilac blows,

The immemorial grief of all years Burdes my heart sorely, and the ye… Of slow eternal crying stain my ch… Forever and forever my soul speaks Saying: I am thy self: Look on me…

Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break f… And fall.

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

White doves of Cytherea, by your… Across the blue Heaven’s bluest h… And by your certain homing to Lov… Still to be true and ever true -…

Behold her, Running through the waves Eager to reach the land; The water laps her, Sun and wind are on her,

If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!

Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.

How can you lie so still? All day… And never a blade of all the green… To show where restlessly you toss… And fling a desperate arm or draw… Stiffened and aching from their lo…