The day is turning ghost, And scuttles from the kalendar in…    To join the anonymous host Of those that throng oblivion; ced…    To one of like degree.

I say, “She was as good as fair,”    When standing by her mound; “Such passing sweetness,” I decla…    "No longer treads the ground." I say, "What living Love can catc…

The chimes called midnight, just a… And the daytime talk on the Roman… Was checked by silence, save for t… The bubbling waters played near th… And a warm air came up from underg…

It faces west, and round the back… High beeches, bending, hang a veil… And sweep against the roof. Wild… Climb on the walls, and seem to sp… (If we may fancy wish of trees and…

My spirit will not haunt the mound Above my breast, But travel, memory-possessed, To where my tremulous being found Life largest, best.

It was a wet wan hour in spring, And Nature met King Doom beside… Wherein Hodge trudged, all blithe…    The Mother’s smiling reign.    "Why warbles he that skies are…

I’m Smith of Stoke aged sixty odd I’ve lived without a dame all my l… And wish to God My dad had done the same.

Hereto I come to interview a ghos… Whither, O whither will its whim… Up the cliff, down, till I’m lone… And the unseen waters’ ejaculation… Where you will next be there’s no…

The moving sun-shapes on the spray… The sparkles where the brook was f… Pink faces, plightings, moonlit M… These were the things we wished wo… But they were going.

“Ah, are you digging on my grave, My loved one?—planting rue?” —"No: yesterday he went to wed One of the brightest wealth has br… ‘It cannot hurt her now,’ he said,

I found me in a great surging spac… At either end a door, And I said: “What is this giddyin… With no firm—fixéd floor, That I knew not of before?”

Come again to the place Where your presence was as a leaf… Down a drouthy way whose ascent be… The bloom on the farer’s face. Come again, with the feet

Pet was never mourned as you, Purrer of the spotless hue, Plumy tail, and wistful gaze While you humoured our queer ways, Or outshrilled your morning call

I said to Love, “It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above; Named thee the Boy, the Bright, t…