A near the dying of that royal day Those amber-vested hills began to… And soon a lofty Pharos, gleaming… Upon its isle set darkly in the li… Beckoned us onward to the spacious…

WHEN one is forty years and seve… Is seven and forty sad years old, He looks not onward for his Heave… The future is too blank and cold, Its pale flowers smell of graveyar…

Their eyes met; flashed an instant… That leapt unparring to each other… Jarring convulsion through the inm… Then fell, for they had fully done… She, in the manner of her folk unv…

Eastwards through busy streets I… Jostled by anxious crowds, who, he… Were so absorbed in dreams of Mam… That they could spare no time to l… The sunset’s gold and crimson fire…

He cried out through the night: “Where is the light? Shall nevermore Open Heaven’s door? Oh, I am left

Sleepless himself to give to other… He giveth His beloved sleep. I HEARD the sounding of the mid… The others one by one had left the… In calm assurance that the graciou…

Waking one morning In a pleasant land, By a river flowing Over golden sand:— Whence flow ye, waters,

Arcane danze D’immortal piede I ruinosi gioghi Scossero e l’ardue selve (oggi rom… Nido de’ venti). LEOPARDI Through the country to the town

To Alice and Hypatia Bradlaugh Who was Lilah? I am sure She was young and sweet and pure; With the forehead wise men love,- Here a lucid dawn above

LOVE’S DAWN Still thine eyes haunt me; in the… The dreamtime, the hushed stillnes… I see them shining pure and earnes… And here, all lonely, may I not a…

In the endless nights, from my bed… I startle the stillness and gloom… 0 Love! 0 Beloved long lost! come… For my heart is wasting and dying… Come down for a moment! oh, come!…

He came to the desert of London t… Gray miles long; He wandered up and he wandered dow… Singing a quiet song. He came to the desert of London t…

Per me si va nella citta dolente. —Dante Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti mot… D’ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa, Girando senza posa,

That one long dirge-moan sad and d… Low, muffled by the solemn stress Of such emotion as doth steep The soul in brooding quietness, Befits our anguished time too well…

IN the early morning-shine Of a certain day divine, I beheld a Maiden stand With a pitcher in her hand; Whence she poured into a cup