A FOG drifts in, the heavy laden Cold white ghost of the sea’€” One by one the hills go out, The road and the pepper-tree. I watch the fog float in at the wi…

Love in my heart was a fresh tide… Where the starlike sea gulls soar; The sun was keen and the foam was… High on the rocky shore. But now in the dusk the tide is tu…

I hoped that he would love me, And he has kissed my mouth, But I am like a stricken bird That cannot reach the south. For though I know he loves me,

What do I owe to you Who loved me deep and long? You never gave my spirit wings Or gave my heart a song. But oh, to him I loved

Your face is set against a fervent… Before the thirsty hills that seve… Return the sun’s hot glory, gold o… Where Agamemnon and Cassandra lie… Your eyes are blind whose light sh…

My heart is but a little house With room for only three or four, And it was filled before you knock… Upon the door. I longed to bid you come within,

Lyric night of the lingering Indi… Shadowy fields that are scentless… Never a bird, but the passionless… Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper’s horn, and far-of…

It will not change now After so many years; Life has not broken it With parting or tears; Death will not alter it,

It was April when you came The first time to me, And my first look in your eyes Was like my first look at the sea. We have been together

Your lines that linger for us down… Like sparks that tell the glory of… Still keep alight the splendor of… And living still, they sting us in… Sole perfect singer that the world…

Wind and hail and veering rain, Driven mist that veils the day, Soul’s distress and body’s pain, I would bear you while I may. I would love you if I might,

HOW many times we must have met Here on the street as strangers do… Children of chance we were, who pa… The door of heaven and never knew.

I built a little House of Dreams, And fenced it all about, But still I heard the Wind of Tr… That roared without. I laid a fire of Memories

Out of the delicate dream of the d… Veiled in the violet folds of the… Softly the dream grows awakening—s… Splashes of crimson, the gay bouga… High in the infinite blue of its h…

For W. P. The little park was filled with pe… The walks were carpeted with snow, But every iron gate was locked. Lest if we entered, peace would go…