Come hither, child, and rest, This is the end of day, Behold the weary West! Sleep rounds with equal zest Man’s toil and children’s play,

I took her dainty eyes, as well As silken tendrils of her hair: And so I made a Villanelle! I took her voice, a silver bell, As clear as song, as soft as praye…

Even now the fragrant darkness of… Had brushed my cheek; and once, in… Her hand upon my hand lay tranquil… What things unspoken trembled in t… Always I know, how little severs…

Who is this mortal Who ventures to-night To woo an immortal, Cold, cold the moon’s light For sleep at this portal,

Here, where the breath of the scen… sun-stained air, On a steep hill-side, on a grassy… and heard Only the faint breeze pass in a wh…

Let us go hence: the night is now… The day is overworn, the birds all… And we have reaped the crops the g… Despair and death; deep darkness o… Broods like an owl; we cannot unde…

Last night, ah, yesternight, betwi… There fell thy shadow, Cynara! th… Upon my soul between the kisses an… And I was desolate and sick of an… Yea, I was desolate and bowed my…

A little while to walk with thee,… To lean on thee my weak and weary… Then evening comes: the winter sky… The leafless trees are black, the… A little while to hold thee and to…

Upon the eyes, the lips, the feet, On all the passages of sense, The atoning oil is spread with swe… Renewal of lost innocence. The feet, that lately ran so fast

What is Love? Is it a folly, Is it mirth, or melancholy? Joys above, Are there many, or not any?

All that I had I brought, Little enough I know; A poor rhyme roughly wrought, A rose to match thy snow: All that I had I brought.

Why is there in the least touch of… More grace than other women’s lips… If love is but a slave in fleshly… Of flesh to flesh, wherever love m… Why choose vain grief and heavy-he…

Beyond the need of weeping, Beyond the reach of hands, May she be quietly sleeping, In what dim nebulous lands? Ah, she who understands!

A gift of Silence, sweet! Who may not ever hear: To lay down at your unobservant fe… Is all the gift I bear. I have no songs to sing,