MY garden walks were smooth and g… And edged with box trees left and… An old grey sun-dial stood between Two rounded bee hives, low and whi… My hollyhocks grew tall and red,

IF I had a lover, now, who would… Yourself with your laughter, your… Yet I’d know when you kissed me y… But kneeling in tears at a lost la… Or if I should seek him who loves…

Kenton and Deborah, Michael and… These are fine children as all the… But into my arms in my dreams ever… Come Peter and Christopher, Fait… Kenton is tropical, Rose is pure…

THERE is no Rachel any more And so it does not really matter. Leah alone is left, and she Goes her own way inscrutably. Soft-eyed she goes, content to sca…

MICHAEL walks in autumn leaves Rustling leaves and fading grasses… And his little music-box Tinkles faintly as he passes. It’s a gay and jaunty tune

WHY don’t you go back to the sea,… I am not one who would hold you; The sea is the woman you really lo… So let hers be the arms that fold… Your bright blue eyes are sailor’s…

HE has taken away the things that… Love and youth and the harp that k… Laughter alone is left of all the… Does He mean that I may fill my d… Or will it, too, slip through my f…

ONCE I knelt in my shining mail Here by Thine altar all the night… My heart beat proudly, my prayer r… But I looked to my armor to win t… God, my lance was a broken reed,

I CAN never remake the thing I h… I brushed the golden dust from the… I called down wind to shatter the… I did a terrible thing. I feared that the cup might fall,…

DEBORAH and Christopher brough… Kenton brought me buttercups with… But Michael brought an autumn lea… A wan leaf, a ghost leaf, beautifu… Death in all loveliness, fragile a…

THE web flew out and floated wide… Poor lady! I was with her then. She gathered up her piteous pride, But she could never weave again. The mirror cracked from side to si…

I HAVE a harp of many strings But two are enough for me: One is for love and one for death; And what would the third one be? Before I learn another note

The thing that I am seeking I know I shall not find; A wistful voice is crying This sorrow in my mind. I know I shall not find it

SOMETIMES when I am at tea wi… I catch my breath At a thought that is old as the wo… And more bitter than death. It is that the spoon that you just…

THE heart knoweth? If this be tr… Then the thing that I bear in my… For it knows no more than a hollow… That answers to every wind. I am sick of the thing! I think w…