If I could make a pillow for your… Soft, pleasant, filled with every… If I could lay a carpet where you… Of all my life’s most radiant fanc… And spread my love as canopy above…

DEAR, if I told you, made your s… Showed you the ghosts that o’er my… What joy were mine—to cast aside t… And clasp you close with no base l… You have given all, and still woul…

THE child was yours and none of m… And yet you gave it me to keep, And bade me sew it raiment fine, And wrap my kisses round its sleep… I carried it upon my breast,

You needn’t pray for me, old lady,… I’m fit and jolly as ever I was—y… When I go whistling down the road… She needn’t think I’m whistling h… If I pass her house a dozen times…

‘What of the garden I gave?’ God said to me; ‘Hast thou been diligent to foster… The life of flower and tree? How have the roses thriven,

FOR A PICTURE BY E. BU… Habes tota quod mente petisti Infelix. IN deep vague spaces of the lonel… She deemed her soulless life was a…

DEAR goddess of the shining shri… Where all my votive tapers burn, Where every gold-embroidered thoug… And all my flowers of life are bro… —With many, alas! that are not min…

Sunrise is in your eyes, and in yo… The hope and bright desire of morn… My eyes are full of shadow, and my… Of life is yesterday. Yet lend my hand your hand, and le…

SLEEP first, And let the storm and winter do th… Let all the garden lie Bare to the angry sky, The shed leaves shiver and die

AND it is fair and very fair This maze of blossom and sweet air… This drift of orchard snows, This royal promise of the rose Wherein your young eyes see

PART I UNDER the shade of convent tower… Where fast and vigil mark the hour… From childhood into youth there gr… A maid as fresh as April dew,

ONE morning, my heart can remembe… I sat dreaming there, In the 'governor’s’ chair In the office. The month was Nove… And the weather a subject for pray…

Hold your hands to the blaze; Winter is here With the short cold days, Bleak, keen and drear. Was there ever a day

I WANDERED in the enchanted wo… And as I wandered there, I sang A song I never understood, Though sweet the music rang. I held a lily white and fair,

O CHRIST, born on the holy day, I have no gift to give my King; No flowers grow by my weary way; I have no birthday song to sing. How can I sing Thy name and prais…