Come, Death, I’d have a word with… And thou, poor Innocency; And Love - a lad with broken win… Apnd Pity, too; The Fool shall sing to you,

“What is the world, O soldiers? It is I: I, this incessant snow, This northern sky; Soldiers, this solitude

I spied John Mouldy in his celler… Deep down twenty steps of stone; In the dusk he sat a-smiling Smiling there all alone. He read no book, he snuffed no can…

Three and thirty birds there stood In an elder in a wood; Called Melmillo—flew off three, Leaving thirty in the tree; Called Melmillo—nine now gone,

Peace in thy hands, Peace in thine eyes, Peace on thy brow; Flower of a moment in the eternal… Peace with me now.

There is a wind where the rose was… Cold rain where sweet grass was, And clouds like sheep Stream o’er the steep Grey skies where the lark was.

What lovely things Thy hand hath made: The smooth-plumed bird In its emerald shade, The seed of the grass,

When thin-strewn memory I look th… I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, Her nose, her hair—her muffled wor… And how she’d open her green eyes,

That one, alone, Who’s dared and gone To seek the Magic Wonderstone, No fear, or care, Or black despair

The last of last words spoken is,… The last dismantled flower in the… The last thin rumour of a feeble b… The last blind rat to spurn the mi… A hardening darkness glasses the h…

‘Won’t you look out of your window… Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding… ‘Can’t you look out of your window… Quoth the Fairy, laughing softly… But the air was still, the cherry…

When Susan’s work was done, she’d… With one fat guttering candle lit, And window opened wide to win The sweet night air to enter in; There, with a thumb to keep her pl…

Sterile these stones By time in ruin laid. Yet many a creeping thing Its haven has made In these least crannies, where fal…