OVER a slow-dying fire, Dreaming old dreams, I am sitting… The flames leap up and expire; A woman sits opposite knitting. I’ve taken a Fate to wife;

When trees in Spring Are blossoming My lady wakes From dreams whose light Made dark days bright,

BY his side, whose days are past, Lay bow and quiver! And his eyes that stare aghast Close, with a shiver. God nor man from Death, at last,

It fell upon a summer night The village folk were soundly slee… Unconscious of the glamour white In which the moon all things was s… One window only showed a light;

Her gown was simple woven wool, But, in repayment, Her body sweet made beautiful The simplest raiment: For all its fine, melodious curves

What know we of the dead, who say… Or of the life in death below the… What of the mystic laws that rule… Grey realms beyond our poor imagin… Where death is life? The bird wit…

Give thou a gift to me From thy treasure-house, O sea! Said a red-lipped laughing girl While the summer yet was young; And the sea laughed back and flung

The Narrow, thorny path he trod. “Enter into My joy,” said God. The sad ascetic shook his head; “I’ve lost all taste for joy,” he…

LO, upon the carpet, where Throned upon a heap of slain Blue-eyed dolls of beauty rare (Ah, they pleaded all in vain!) Sits the Infant Tamerlane!

WHO are these strange small folk, These that come to our homes as ki… Asking nor leave nor grace, Bending our necks to their yoke, Taking the highest place,

DAY goeth bold in cloth of gold, A royal bridegroom he; But Night in jewelled purple walk… A Queen of Mystery. Day filleth up his loving-cup

ONCE from the world of living me… I passed, by a strange fancy led, To a still City of the Dead, To call upon a citizen. He had been famous in his day;

IT MAY have been a fragment of t… Truth dreams, at times, disclose; It may have been to Fond Illusion… But thus the story goes: A fierce sun glared upon a gaunt l…

O DAY, the crown and crest of al… Thou comest not to us amid the sno… But midmost of the reign of the re… Our hearts have not yet lost the a… That filled our fathers’ simple he…

The Woman at the Washtub, She works till fall of night; With soap and suds and soda Her hands are wrinkled white. Her diamonds are the sparkles