The days have slain the days, and the seasons have gone by And brought me the summer again; and here on the grass I lie As erst I lay and was glad

Love is enough: it grew up without… In the days when ye knew not its n… And its leaflets untrodden by the… Had no boast of the blossom, no si… As the morning and evening passed…

Gold on her head, and gold on her… And gold where the hems of her kir… And a golden girdle round my sweet… Ah! qu’elle est belle La Margueri… Margaret’s maids are fair to see,

In an English Castle in Poictou.… John Curzon Of those three prisoners, that bef… We took down at St. John’s hard b… Two are good masons; we have tools…

am the handmaid of the earth, I broider fair her glorious gown, And deck her on her days of mirth With many a garland of renown. And while Earth’s little ones are…

Wearily, drearily, Half the day long, Flap the great banners High over the stone; Strangely and eerily

There were four of us about that b… The mass-priest knelt at the side, I and his mother stood at the head… Over his feet lay the bride; We were quite sure that he was dea…

What cometh here from west to east… And who are these, the marchers st… We bear the message that the rich… Aback to those who bade them wake… Not one, not one, nor thousands mu…

O muse that swayest the sad North… Thy right hand full of smiting &am… Thy left hand holding pity; &… Heaving with hope of that so certa… Thou, with the grey eyes kind and…

Love is enough: through the troubl… From yesterday’s dawning to yester… I sought through the vales where t… Till, wearied and bleeding, at end… I met him, and we wrestled, and gr…

Silk Embroidery. Lo silken my garden, and silken my sky, And silken my apple-boughs hanging on high;

I once a king and chief Now am the tree-bark’s thief, Ever ‘twixt trunk and leaf Chasing the prey.

I KNOW a little garden-close, Set thick with lily and red rose, Where I would wander if I might From dewy morn to dewy night, And have one with me wandering.

For many, many days together The wind blew steady from the Eas… For many days hot grew the weather… About the time of our Lady’s Feas… For many days we rode together,

Slayer of the winter, art thou her… O welcome, thou that’s bring’st th… The bitter wind makes not thy vict… Nor will we mock thee for thy fain… Welcome, O March! whose kindly da…