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

Fugitive, wistful, Pausing at edge of her going, Autumn, the maiden, turns, Leans to the earth with ineffable Gesture. Ah, more than

What words Are left thee then Who hast squandered on thy Forgetfulness eternity’s I Love?

Meet thou the event And terrible happening of Thine end: for thou art come Upon the remote, cold place Of ultimate dissolution and

O mia Luna! Porta mi fortuna! (You must say it nine times, curts… In rose-pale, fading blue of twili… See, the new moon’s thin crescent… Nine times I’ll curtsey murmuring…

So may you sleep alway, My baby, my dear son: Amen, Amen, Amen. My baby, my dear son.

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…

These be three silent things: The falling snow . . . the hour Before the dawn . . . the mouth of… Just dead.

Art thou Not kin to him Who loved Mark’s wife and both Died for it? O, thou harper in Green woods?

When I was girl by Nilus stream I watched the deserts stars arise; My lover, he who dreamed the Sphi… Learned all his dreaming from eyes… I bore in Greece a burning name,

No guile? Nay, but so strangely He moves among us. . Not this Man but Barabbas! Release to us Barabbas!

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

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

The poet pursues his beautiful the… The preacher his golden beatitude; And I run after a vanishing dream… The glittering, will-o’-the-wispis… Of the properly scholarly attitude…

Pain ebbs, And like cool balm, An opiate weariness Settles on eye-lids, on relaxed Pale wrists.