Not spring’s Thou art, but hers, Most cool, most virginal, Winter’s, with thy faint breath, t… Rose-tinged.

Peter stands by the gate, And Michael by the throne. ‘Peter, I would pass the gate And come before the throne.’ ‘Whose spirit prayed never at the…

Than spring’s new scents The winter’s earliest wind Blows from the hills the first fai… Of Snow. Why have I

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

Lo, All the Way, Look you, I said, the clouds will… Grow clear, the road Be easier for my travelling the fi… So sodden and dead,

Reap, reap the grain and gather The sweet grapes from the vine; Our Lord’s mother is weeping, She hath nor bread nor wine; She is weeping. The Queen of Hea…

As I went, as I went Over the mountains, I heard, I heard, Through cloud-wreath and mist, A hound that was baying -

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

(1) The rose new-opening saith, And the dew of the morning saith, (Fallen leaves and vanished dew) Remember death.

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

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,

Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look In the pages of my book; And as these thy hand doth turn, Know here is my funeral urn.

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

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

The sun is warm today, O Romulus, and on Thine older Palentine the birds Still sing.