My songs to sell, sweet maid! I pray you buy. Here’s one will win a lady’s tears… Here’s one will make her gay, Here’s one will charm your true lo…

The immemorial grief of all years Burdes my heart sorely, and the ye… Of slow eternal crying stain my ch… Forever and forever my soul speaks Saying: I am thy self: Look on me…

Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,

If illness’ end be health regained… Will pay you, Asculapeus, when I…

The clustered Gods, the marching… The mighty-limbed, deep-bosomed T… The shimmering grey-gold London f… I wish that Phidias could see!

Too far afield thy search. Nay, t… At thine own elbow potent Memory… Thy double, and eternity is cupped In the pale hollow of those ghostl…

Oh me, Was there a time When Paradise knew Eve In this sweet guise, so placid and

Well and If day on day Follows and weary year On year . . . and ever days and ye… Well?

Thou hast Drawn laughter from A well of secret tears And thence so elvish it rings, –mo… And sweet.

But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!

I know Not these my hands And yet I think there was A woman like me once had hands Like these.

Avis, the fair, at dawn Rose lightly from her bed, Herself arrayed, Avis, the fait, the maid, In vestiment of lawn;

Not spring’s Thou art, but hers, Most cool, most virginal, Winter’s, with thy faint breath, t… Rose-tinged.

Joy! Joy! Joy! The hills are glad, The valleys re-echo with merriment… In my heart is the sound of laught… And my feet dance to the time of i…

Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall To speak thy pain, Gently as through the silver dusk The silver rain. Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grie…