The world has grown unreal to-day Far out upon the Zuyder Zee! We drift towards a mystic isle, With scarce a breath of wind the w… I hear the murmur of the tide,

June 29th Beneath the lime trees in the gard… High above the town, The scent of whose suspended bloom Entranced the air with warm perfum…

Give me your hands to hold, For the night and the wind are col… And the year ‘s growing sad and ol… So give me your hands to hold. Give me your lips to press,

The hillside green with bracken. And the red plough land, The brownish hurrying rivers, Where the willows stand. The thickets and the meadows.

Ring on! Oh endless vesper bell! What can you know of that deep He… Upon this Earth, where men may dw… Ring on! Your calling is in vain, What holy rite can lull the pain

Set my hands upon the plough. My feet upon the sod ; Turn my face towards the east, And praise be to God! Every year the rains do fall,

Go, cold white pearls, with your l… The woman is waiting who longs to… But the rainbow light that within… But the soft cool touch of your sa… You are undefiled, and the price o…

And so we closed the book, wherein… How many words of ecstasy and pain… How oft repeated passion’s deep re… Like ebb and flow of tide, whose e… Upon the hearing of our listening…

Come, put yer little hand in mine. And let it be at rest. It minds me of a tired bird Within a warm brown nest ; And bend that pretty head o’ your’…

Our little love is newly born, And shall I say good-bye? For if I go, perchance ere dawn Our little love will die! I’d better stay and help it grow,

Time hangs suspended 'mid the perf… With limpid wings, o’er which the… Gleams like a tear, within the ten… Desirous eyes of love-lorn Destin… The earth is dumb, the scents of m…

At the early break of day, When the river mists grow pink. And the moon begins to sink, Down along the southern way ; When the gold mimosa tree

A drop of dew that on a rose-bud c… A ray of sunshine in a world of S… A bird, who singing from some hidd… Is bathed in streams of endless me… An open flower you trod on as you…

Lime-trees meeting overhead, Many lovers cold and dead. Kissed and loved, and kissed again… In the sunshine and the rain. Underneath your scented green.

Oh! weary ghosts, be still! Sad spectres of long dead delights… Wan spirits of the days and nights Wherein of joy we drank our fill, Lie deep beneath the sod of years.