Shadows! the only shadows that I… Are happy shadows of the light of… The radiance immortal shining thro… Your sea-deep eyes up from the sou… Your shadow, like a rose’s, on the…

(January 19, 1909) Poet of doom, dementia, and death, Of beauty singing in a charnel hou… Like the lost soul of a poor moon-… With too much loving of some lord…

And is it true indeed, and must yo… Set out alone across that moorland… No love avail, though we have love… No voice have any power to call yo… And losing hands stretch after you…

Down where the unconquered river s… One strong free thing within a pri… I drew me with my sacred grief apa… That it might look that spacious j… And as I mused, lo! Dante walked…

This life I squander, hating the… That will not bring me either Res… This health I hack and ravage as… These nerves I fain would shatter… I fain would break—this heart that…

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…

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…

O spirit of Life, by whatsoe’er a… Known among men, even as our fathe… Before thee, and as little childre… For counsel in Life’s dread predi… Even we, with all our lore,

She bore us in her dreaming womb, And laughed into the face of Deat… She laughed, in her strange agony,… To give her little baby breath. Then, by some holy mystery,

(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

All beauty is but thee in echo-sha… No lovely thing but echoes some of… Vainly some touch of thy perfectio… Sighing as fair as thou thyself to… Therefore, be not disquieted that…

‘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…

One asked of regret, And I made reply: To have held the bird, And let it fly; To have seen the star

Ah, if you worship anything, In deepest hush of silence bend The lone adoring knee, And only silence bring Into the sanctuary.

War I abhor, And yet how sweet The sound along the marching stree… Of drum and fife, and I forget