THIS is the end of him, here he… The dust in his throat, the worm i… The mould in his mouth, the turf o… This is the end of him, this is be… He will never lie on his couch awa…

With beating heart and lagging fee… Lord, I approach the Judgment-sea… All bring hither the fruits of toi… Measures of wheat and measures of… Gold and jewels and precious wine;

With fruit and flowers the board i… The wine and laughter flow; I’ll not complain—could one expect So dull a world to know? You look across the fruit and flow…

What wonder that I should be drea… Out here in the garden to-day? The light through the leaves is st… Paulina cries, “Play!” The birds to each other are callin…

The lion remembers the forest, The lion in chains; To the bird that is captive a visi… Of woodland remains. One strains with his strength at t…

A Waltz Song. O sway, and swing, and sway, And swing, and sway, and swing! Ah me, what bliss like unto this, Can days and daylight bring?

The mountains in fantastic lines Sweep, blue-white, to the sky, whi… Blue as blue gems; athwart the pin… The lake gleams blue. We three were here, three years go…

I will be glad because it is the… I will forget the winter in my hea… Dead hopes and withered promise; a… A little joy from life ere life de… For spendthrift youth with passion…

Now, even, I cannot think it true… My friend, that there is no more y… Almost as soon were no more I, Which were, of course, absurdity! Your place is bare, you are not se…

I knew not if to laugh or weep; They sat and talked of you— “'Twas here he sat; ’twas this he… ’Twas that he used to do. ”Here is the book wherein he read,

I lounge in the doorway and lan… While Tom, Dick and Harry are da… My spirit rises to the music’s bea… There is a leaden fiend lurks in m… To move unto your motion, Love, w…

Dead! all’s done with! —R. Browning. These blossoms that I bring, This song that here I sing, These tears that now I shed,

I may not weep, not weep, and he i… A weary, weary weight of tears uns… Through the long day in my sad hea… The horrid sun with all unpitying… Shines down into the dreary weavin…

With Apologies to Mr. Swinbur… For repose I have sighed and have… I am held in the Circle of Being… I was wan and weary with life ; my… I was weary of women and war and t…