Mystery: lo! betwixt the sun and m… Astarte of the Syrians: Venus Qu… Ere Aphrodite was. In silver shee… Her twofold girdle clasps the infi… Of bliss whereof the heaven and ea…

Warmed by her hand and shadowed by… As close she leaned and poured her… Whereof the articulate throbs acco… The smooth black stream that makes… Sweet fluttering sheet, even of he…

LADY, in thy proud eyes There is a weary look, As if the spirit we know through t… Were daunted with rebuke To think that the heart of man hen…

SHE knew it not:—most perfect pai… To learn: this too she knew not.… For me, calm hers, as from the fir… 'Twas but another bubble burst Upon the curdling draught of life,…

What shall be said of this embattl… And armèd occupation of this night By all thy foes beleaguered,—now w… Nor sound denotes the loved one fa… Of these thy vanquished hours what…

This word had Merlin said from of… That out of the Oak Tree Shade In the day of France’s direst dul… God’s hand should send a Maid. And where Domremy, by Burgundy,

HONEY—FLOWERS to the honey—c… And the honey—bee’s from home. A honey—comb and a honey—flower, And the bee shall have his hour. A honeyed heart for the honey—comb…

The blessed damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven; Her eyes were deeper than the dept… Of waters stilled at even; She had three lilies in her hand,

What of her glass without her? Th… There where the pool is blind of t… Her dress without her? The tossed… Of cloud—rack whence the moon has… Her paths without her? Day’s appo…

Look in my face; my name is Might… I am also call’d No—more, Too—lat… Unto thine ear I hold the dead—se… Cast up thy Life’s foam—fretted f… Unto thine eyes the glass where th…

Sweet dimness of her loosened hair… About thy face; her sweet hands ro… In gracious fostering union garlan… Her tremulous smiles; her glances’… Of love; her murmuring sighs memor…

SAY, is it day, is it dusk in thy… Thou whom I long for, who longest… Oh! be it light, be it night, 'tis… Love’s that is fettered as Love’s… Free love has leaped to that inner…

DID she in summer write it, or in… Or with this wail of autumn at her… Or in some winter left among old y… Scratched it through tettered cark… That round her heart the frost was…

It was Lilith the wife of Adam: (Sing Eden Bower!) Not a drop of her blood was human, But she was made like a soft sweet… Lilith stood on the skirts of Ede…