WHAT shall her silence keep Under the sun? Here, where the willows weep And waters run; Here, where she lies asleep,

A tranquil bar Of rosy twilight under dusk’s firs… A glimmering sound Of whispering waters over grassy g… A sun-sweet smell

How often in our search for joy be… Hoping for happiness we chance on…

Now ’tis the time when, tall, The long blue torches of the bellf… Among the trees; and, by the woode… In many a fragrant ball, Blooms of the button-bush fall.

A shadow glided down the way Where sunset groped among the tree… And all the woodland bower, asway With trouble of the evening breeze… A shape, it moved with head held d…

Old days, old ways, old homes besi… Old gardens with old-fashioned flo… Poppy, petunia, and many a name Of many a flower of fragrant pedig… Old hills that glow with blue– and…

I HAD forgot how, in my day The Sabine fields around me lay In amaranth and asphodel, With many a cold Bandusian well Bright-bubbling by the mountain-wa…

They mock the present and they hau… And in the future there is naught… With hope, the soul desires, that… The heart pursuing does not find a…

An agate-black, your roguish eyes Claim no proud lineage of the skie… No starry blue; but of good earth The reckless witchery and mirth. Looped in your raven hair’s repose…

A Far bell tinkles in the hollow, And heart and soul are fain to fol… Gone is the rose and gone the swal… Autumn is here. The wild geese draw at dusk their…

Each form of beauty’s but the new… Of thoughts more beautiful than fo… Sceptics, who search with unanoint… Never the Earth’s wild fairy-danc…

THERE is a glory in the apple bo… Of silver moonlight; like a torch… Burning upon an altar of sweet vow… Dropped from the hand of some wan… And there is life among the apple…

The rose of Hope, how rich and re… It blooms, and will bloom on, 't i… Since Eve, in Eden days gone by, Plucked it on Adam’s heart to lie… When out of Paradise they fled,

The moth and beetle wing about The garden ways of other days; Above the hills, a fiery shout Of gold, the day dies slowly out, Like some wild blast a huntsman bl…

Bee-Bitten in the orchard hung The peach; or, fallen in the weeds… Lay rotting, where still sucked an… The gray bee, boring to its seed’s Pink pulp and honey blackly stung.