A song of the setting sun! The sky in the west is red, And the day is all but done: While yonder up overhead, All too soon,

I seek no more to bridge the gulf… Betwixt our separate ways; For vainly my heart prays, Hope droops her head and dies; I see the sad, tired answer in you…

Why am I sorry, Chloe? Because t… And who am I to be straitened in… Because thy face is fair? And wha… The fairest face of all is the fac… Because the land is cold, and howe…

Where river and ocean meet in a gr… Beyond the bar, where on the dunes… Above, one windmill stands forlorn… I will set my sail on a stormy day… That I have sought and never foun…

If we must part, Then let it be like this. Not heart on heart, Nor with the useless anguish of a… But touch mine hand and say:

Without, the sullen noises of the… The voice of London, inarticulate… Hoarse and blaspheming, surges in… The silent blessing of the Immacu… Dark is the church, and dim the wo…

Erewhile, before the world was old… When violets grew and celandine, In Cupid’s train we were enrolled… Erewhile! Your little hands were clasped in…

This libation, Cupid, take, With the lilies at thy feet; Cherish Pierrot for their sake Send him visions strange and sweet… While he slumbers at thy feet.

WITH HIS SONGS AND HE… Violets and leaves of vine, Into a frail, fair wreath We gather and entwine: A wreath for Love to wear,

Love wine and beauty and the sprin… While wine is red and spring is he… And through the almond blossoms ri… The dove-like voices of thy Dear. Love wine and spring and beauty wh…

Wine and woman and song, Three things garnish our way: Yet is day over long. Lest we do our youth wrong, Gather them while we may:

Beyond the pale of memory, In some mysterious dusky grove; A place of shadows utterly, Where never coos the turtle-dove, A world forgotten of the sun:

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

I would not alter thy cold eyes, Nor trouble the calm fount of spee… With aught of passion or surprise. The heart of thee I cannot reach: I would not alter thy cold eyes!