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…

(TO JAMES WELCH) Dear Desk, Farewell! I spoke you… In phrases neither sweet nor soft, But at the end I come to see That thou a friend hast been to me…

The world is wide-around yon court… Where dirty little children play, Another world of street on street Grows wide and wider every day. And round the town for endless mil…

Brother that ploughs the furrow I… God give thee grace, and fruitful… Tis fair sweet earth, be it under… And all about it ever the birds si… Yet do I pray your seed fares not…

Let’s go to market in the moon, And buy some dreams together, Slip on your little silver shoon, And don your cap and feather; No need of petticoat or stocking—

‘A Library in a garden! The phrase seems to contain the wh… of man.’-Mr. EDMUND GOSSE in Gossip in a Library A world of books amid a world of g…

The gods are there, they hide thei… From you that will not kneel— Worship, and they reveal, Call—and ’tis they! They have not changed, nor moved f…

(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,

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

The floating call of the cuckoo, Soft little globes of bosom-shaped… Came and went at the window; And, out in the great green world, Those maidens each morn the flower…

You ask and I send. It is well, y… A lily hangs dead on its stalk, ah… A dream hangs dead on a life it bl… Shall it flaunt its death where sa… In the cold dank wind of our memor…

Wild bird, I stole you from your… And cannot find your nest again; To hear you chirp a little while I wrung your mother’s heart with p… And here you sit and droop and die…

Art is a gipsy, Fickle as fair, Good to kiss and flirt with, But marry—if you dare!

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…

She failed me at the tryst: All the long afternoon The golden day went by, Until the rising moon; But, as I waited on,