So sang young Love in high and ho… Of a white Love that hath no eart… So rapt within his vision he did s… Less like a boyish singer than a s… Ah, Boy, it is a dream for life t…

Yea, let me be ‘thy bachelere,’ ’Tis sweeter than thy lord; How should I envy him, my dear, The lamp upon his board. Still make his little circle brigh…

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?—

Is it your face I see, your voice… Your face, your voice, again after… O is your cheek once more against… And is this blessed rain, angel, y… You have come back,-how strange-ou…

Must I believe this beauty wholly… That in her picture here so deathl… And must I henceforth speak of he… Tells of some face of legend or of… Still here and there remembered-sc…

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…

Through the dark wood There came to me a friend, Bringing in his cold hands Two words-'The End.’ His face was fair

An animalcule in my blood Rose up against me as I dreamed, He was so tiny as he stood, You had not heard him, though he s… He cried ‘There is no Man!’

Too late I bring my heart, too la… Too late to bring the true love th… Too long, unthrift, I gave it her… Spent it in idle love and idle son… Youth seemed so rich, with kisses…

Canst thou be true across so many… So many days that keep us still ap… Ah, canst thou live upon remembere… And ask no warmer comfort for thy… I call thy name right up into the…

The sun is weary, for he ran So far and fast to-day; The birds are weary, for who sang So many songs as they? The bees and butterflies at last

Like a flower in the frost Sweet Jenny lies, With her frail hands calmly crosse… And close-shut eyes. Bring a candle, for the room

(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

The cowbells wander through the wo… ‘Neath arching boughs a stream sli… In all the ferny solitude A chipmunk and a butterfly Are all that is—and you and I.

Water in hidden glens From the secret heart of the mount… Where the red fox hath its dens And the gods their crystal fountai… Up runnel and leaping cataract,