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

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…

I make my shroud, but no one knows… So shimmering fine it is and fair, With stitches set in even rows, I make my shroud, but no one knows… In door-way where the lilac blows,

Little Sister Rose-Marie, Will thy feet as willing-light Run through Paradise, I wonder, As they run the blue skies under, Willing feet, so airy-light?

Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break f… And fall.

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…

For Aubrey Beardsley’s picture Pierrot is dying: Tiptoe in, Finger touched to lip, Harlequin,

Keep thou Thy tearless watch All night but when blue-dawn Breathes on the silver moon, then… Then weep!

Behold her, Running through the waves Eager to reach the land; The water laps her, Sun and wind are on her,

Still as On windless nights The moon-cast shadows are, So still will be my heart when I Am dead.

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

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

Guardian Of The Treasure Of Sol… And Keeper Of the Prophet’s Armo… My tent A vapour that The wind dispels and but

THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?

If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!