(A Prefatory Sonnet for SANTA LUCIA, the Misses Hodg… Magazine for the Blind) We, deeming day-light fair, and lo… Its forms and dyes, and all the mo…

Of all the wind-blown dust of face… Had I a god’s re-animating breath… Thee, like a perfumed torch in the… Lethean and the eyeless halls of d… Would I relume; the cresset of th…

I am so fair that wheresoe’er I w… Men yearn with strange desire to k… Stretch out their hands to touch m… And women follow me from place to… A poet writing honey of his dear

O golden day! O silver night! That brought my own true love at l… Ah, wilt thou drop from out our si… And drown within the past? One wave, no more, in life’s wide…

(TO I——a) When rumour fain would fright my e… With the destruction and decay Of things familiar and dear, And vaunt of a swift-running day

Friends whom to-night once more I… Most glad am I with you to be, And, as I look around, I meet Many a face right good to see; But one I miss—ah! where is he?—

When the long day has faded to its… The flowers gone, and all the sing… And there is no companion left sav… Ah! there is one, Though in her grave she lies this…

Morning comes to little eyes, Wakens birds and butterflies, Bids the flower uplift his head, Calls the whole round world from b… Up jump Geoffrey!

In the long shimmer of the Sound May I some day be laughing found, Part of its restless to and fro, A humble worker of the tides That round the sleepless planet fl…

Two stars once on their lonely way Met in the heavenly height, And they dreamed a dream they migh… With undivided light; Melt into one with a breathless th…

I dwell, with all things great and… The green earth and the lustral ai… The sacred spaces of the sea, Day in, day out, companion me. Pure-faced, pure-thoughted, folk a…

To R.K. Leather (July 16th, 1892.) It happened in that great Italian… Where every bosom heateth with a s… At Rimini, anigh that crumbling s…

Waiting in the woodland, watching… Thinking every leaf that stirs the… Thinking every whisper the rustle… How my heart goes up and up, and t… First it is a squirrel, then it is…

Above the town a monstrous wheel i… With glowing spokes of red, Low in the west its fiery axle bur… And, lost amid the spaces overhead… A vague white moth, the moon, is f…

I meant to do my work to—day— But a brown bird sang in the apple… And a butterfly flitted across the… And all the leaves were calling me… And the wind went sighing over the…