Go, little book, and be the lookin… Of her dear soul, The mirror of her moments as they… Keeping the whole; Wherein she still may look on yest…

(WESTMINSTER, OCTOBER 12,… Great man of song, whose glorious… Within the lap of death sleeps wel… Down the dark road, seeking the de… Thy faithful, fearless, shining so…

I had no where to go, I had no money to spend: ‘O come with me,’ the Beaver said… ‘I live at the world’s end.’ ‘Does the world ever end!’

I see fair women all the day, They pass and pass-and go; I almost dream that they are shade… Within a shadow-show. Their beauty lays no hand on me,

Crickets calling, Apples falling. Summer dying, Life is flying. So soon over–

Dear wife, there is no word in all… But unto thee belongs: Though I indeed before our true d… Mistook thy star in many a wanderi… Singing to thee in many a fair dis…

O ships upon the sea, O shapes of… O lands whose names are made of sp… Old painted empires that are ever… From Cochin-China down to Zanzib… O Beauty simple, soul-less, and b…

(To the Memory of Austin Dobson) Master of the lyric inn Where the rarer sort so long Drew the rein, to 'scape the din Of the cymbal and the gong,

O loveliest face, on which we look… Not without hope we may again beho… Somewhere, somehow, when we oursel… Where, Lucy, you have gone, this… That gathered beauty every changin…

(Chant Royal) O MIGHTY Queen, our Lady of th… The light, the music, and the hone… Blent in one Power, one passionat… Man calleth Love-'Sweet love,' th…

The peril of fair faces all his da… No man shall 'scape: be it for joy… Each is the thrall of some predest… Divinely doomed to work his overth… Transiently fair, as flowers in ga…

The daisied dawn is in the sky, And the young day still dew and dr… When on the innocent morning air There comes a terrifying scream; And the four ends of the sad earth

(WITH APOLOGIES TO ARIEL… Five inches deep Sir Goldfish lie… Here last September was he laid, Poppies these that were his eyes, Of fish-bones were these bluebells…

Spake the Lord Christ-'I will ar… It seemed a saying void and vain– How shall a dead man rise again!- Vain as our tears, vain as our cri… Not one of all the little band

We thought that winter, love, woul… That the dark year had slain the i… Nor hoped that your soft hand, thi… Would lie, as now, in mine, belove… And, like some magic spring, your…