How she would have loved A party to—day!— Bright-hatted and gloved, With table and tray And chairs on the lawn

They are not those who used to fee… When we were young—they cannot be… These shapes that now bereave and… They are not those who used to fee… For would they not fair terms conc…

Song of the Soldiers What of the faith and fire within… Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray,

One without looks in tonight Through the curtain-chink From the sheet of glistening white… One without looks in tonight As we sit and think

"O Time, whence comes the Mother’…    As of one who all unwittingly h…    Why weaves she not her world-we… With nevermore this too remorseful…    As of angel fallen from grace?"

I scanned her picture dreaming,    Till each dear line and hue Was imaged, to my seeming,    As if it lived anew. Her lips began to borrow

“Men know but little more than we, Who count us least of things terre… How happy days are made to be! “Of such strange tidings what thin… O birds in brown that peck and pre…

Here’s the mould of a musical bird… Which over the earth before man ca… There’s a contralto voice I heard… That lodges with me still in its s… Such a dream is Time that the coo…

I walked in loamy Wessex lanes, a… From rail—track and from highway,… In field and farmstead many an anc… Of local lineage like “Thu bist,”… “Ich woll,” “Er sholl,” and by—ta…

When of tender mind and body I was moved by minstrelsy, And that strain “The Bridge of L… Brought a strange delight to me. In the battle-breathing jingle

You did not walk with me Of late to the hill-top tree As in earlier days, By the gated ways: You were weak and lame,

As I drive to the junction of lan… And the drizzle bedrenches the wag… I look behind at the fading byway, And see on its slope, now glisteni… Distinctly yet

Everybody else, then, going, And I still left where the fair w… Much have I seen of neighbour lou… Making a lusty showing, Each now past all knowing.

We walked where Victor Jove was s… And passed to Livia’s rich red mu… Whence, thridding cave and Cripto… We gained Caligula’s dissolving p… And each ranked ruin tended to beg…

In our heart of hearts believing Victory crown the just, And that braggarts must Surely bite the dust, Press we to the field ungrieving,