The day our dead are laid to rest We heap the earth upon their breas… Upon the earth we set a stone. And then we leave them all alone. Some folks they weep, and some the…

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,

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…

Kind Earth, upon whose mother bre… The fruitful trees in time of spri… Put forth their endless blossoming From North to South, from East t… Whose sweet deep-furrowed soil is…

To-day I hate that bitter creed, Whereby the groaning soul is taugh… That God Almighty finds the need Of pain, ere true salvation 's wro… Dear God, who did create the tree…

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

Roses, I hate you! since you stil… Contentedly, where living love is… Can fling wan fragrance thro’ this… Lift languid petals shimmering 'mi… Where love is not.

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…

I often think that all those vast… For purer joys, that thrill the hu… Vague yearnings such as solitude i… That nameless something silence ca… Could after all be quenched by sim…

July 23rd, 1906 Across the hills a tender shadow s… Like thought upon the face of one… And thro’ the silence rang some di… A vague sweet music in its every t…

Baby, with those solemn eyes And that yellow hair You are very, very wise, Baby dear, I’ll swear! Give me, sweet, your chubby hand,

Ah! Faith, I’d barter all I own… But one brief moment of your magic… Whereby my spirit freed from earth… Might spread its wings towards imm… Is there no wisdom but it steals o…

O Italy of chiming bells, Of pilgrim shrines and holy wells, Of incense mist and secret prayers… Profound and sweet as scented airs Blown from a field of lily flowers…

I RODE through Eastnor woods to… And all the air did promise May, Did promise May till every tree Found voice to make much melody. And oh, the primi-ose flowers! the…

Dear Ghost, across a wind-swept s… You wander back again to me, And I am not afraid, for see I bid you rest beside me here! I press your icy lips to mine,