Sometimes she is a child within mi… Cowering beneath dark wings that l… With still tears showering and ave… Inexplicably fill’d with faint ala… And oft from mine own spirit’s hur…

Some prisoned moon in steep cloud—… Throned queen and thralled; some d… Blazed with momentous memorable fi… Who hath not yearned and fed his h… Who, sleepless, hath not anguished…

Once more the changed year’s turni… And as a girl sails balanced in th… And now before and now again behin… Stoops as it swoops, with cheek th… So Spring comes merry towards me…

“Thou Ghost,” I said, “and is thy… Yesterday’s son, with such an abje… And can To—morrow be more pale th… While yet I spoke, the silence an… Henceforth our issue is all grieve…

(In the Academy of Bruges) MYSTERY: God, man’s life, born… Of woman. There abideth on her br… The ended pang of knowledge, the w… Is calm assured. Since first her…

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…

“Messieurs, le Dieu des peintres”… 'Twas Rubens, sculptured. A mean… Was the next thing we saw,—from va… His drivel. The museum: as we tro… Its steps, his bust held us at bay…

Watch thou and fear; to—morrow tho… Or art thou sure thou shalt have t… Is not the day which God’s word p… To come man knows not when? In yo… Now while we speak, the sun speeds…

‘TIS of the Father Hilary. He strove, but could not pray; so… The steep—coiled stair, where his… A sad blind echo. Ever up He toiled. ’Twas a sick sway of a…

HEAVENBORN Helen, Sparta’s q… (O Troy Town!) Had two breasts of heavenly sheen, The sun and moon of the heart’s de… All Love’s lordship lay between.

Even as a child, of sorrow that we… The dead, but little in his heart… Since without need of thought to h… Their turn it is to die and his to… Even so the winged New Love smile…

THERE is a big artist named Val… The roughs’ and the prize—fighters… The mind of a groom And the head of a broom Were Nature’s endowments to Val.

In our Museum galleries To—day I lingered o’er the prize Dead Greece vouchsafes to living… Her Art for ever in fresh wise From hour to hour rejoicing me.

When vain desire at last and vain… Go hand in hand to death, and all… What shall assuage the unforgotten… And teach the unforgetful to forge… Shall Peace be still a sunk strea…