Sapphics. Down the green hill-side fro’ the… Lady Jane spied Bill Amaranth a-… Day by day watched him go about hi… Nursery garden.

By Lord T-n. So bluff Sir Leolin gave the brid… And when they married her, the lit… Had seldom seen a costlier ritual. The coach and pair alone were two-…

Small is my secret—let it pass— Small in your life the share I ha… Who sat beside you in the class, Awed by the bright superior lad: Whom yet with hot and eager face

Down in the street the last late h… Still westward, but with backward… The harlot shuffles to her lonely… The tall policeman pauses but to t… A flash into the empty portico;

Nay, more than violets These thoughts of thine, friend! Rather thy reedy brook— Taw’s tributary— At midnight murmuring,

Adown the torturing mile of street I mark him come and go, Thread in and out with tireless fe… The crossings to and fro; A soul that treads without retreat

NOT on the neck of prince or houn… Nor on a woman’€™s finger twin’€™d… May gold from the deriding ground Keep sacred that we sacred bind: Only the heel

After W. M. P. Dear Kitty, At length the term’s ending; I 'm in for my Schools in a week; And the time that at present I’m…

After C. S. C. When the hunter-star Orion (Or, it may be, Charles his Wain) Tempts the tiny elves to try on All their little tricks again;

After T. I. As I laye a-dreamynge, a-dreamyng… O softlye moaned the dove to her m… And meseemed unto my syghte Came rydynge many a knyghte

By Sir W. S. St. Giles’s street is fair and wi… St. Giles’s street is long; But long or wide, may naught abide Therein of guile or wrong;

E. W. B. Archbishop of Canterbury: sometim… of Truro. October 1896 The Church’s outpost on a neck of… By ebb of faith the foremost left…

By A. C. S. The Centuries kiss and commingle, Cling, clasp, and are knit in a ch… No cycle but scorns to be single, No two but demur to be twain,

Behold! I am not one that goes to… Professors. The elementary laws never apologis… I find letters from the Dean drop… signed by the Dean’s name—

IF a leaf rustled, she would star… And yet she died, a year ago. How had so frail a thing the heart To journey where she trembled so? And do they turn and turn in frigh…