Little my lacking fortunes show For this to eat and that to wear; Yet laughing, Soul, and gaily go! An obol pays the Stygian fare. London, 1910

In your Curled petals what ghosts Of blue headlands and seas, What perfumed immortal breath sigh… Of Greece.

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…

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

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.

Art thou Not kin to him Who loved Mark’s wife and both Died for it? O, thou harper in Green woods?

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

As it Were tissue of silver I’ll wear, O Fate, thy grey, And go mistily radiant, clad Like the moon.

Too far afield thy search. Nay, t… At thine own elbow potent Memory… Thy double, and eternity is cupped In the pale hollow of those ghostl…

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

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

Meet thou the event And terrible happening of Thine end: for thou art come Upon the remote, cold place Of ultimate dissolution and

He comes from Mass early in the m… The sky’s the very blue Madonna w… The air’s alive with gold! Mark y… The birds sing and the dusted shim… On leaf and fruit?..Per Bacco, wh…

Oh me, Was there a time When Paradise knew Eve In this sweet guise, so placid and

O mia Luna! Porta mi fortuna! (You must say it nine times, curts… In rose-pale, fading blue of twili… See, the new moon’s thin crescent… Nine times I’ll curtsey murmuring…