THE LIGHTS shone down the stre… In the long blue close of day: A boy’s heart beat sweet, sweet, As it flowered in its dreamy clay. Beyond the dazzling throng

DUSK, a pearl-grey river, o’er Hill and vale puts out the day— What do you wonder at, asthore, What’s away in yonder grey? Dark the eyes that linger long—

THE CHILDREN were shouting to… And racing along the sands, A glimmer of dancing shadows, A dovelike flutter of hands. The stars were shouting in heaven,

ERE I lose myself in the vastnes… While I gaze on the light and the… May I still feel the heart-pang a… May the voices of sorrow appealing… Ere I storm with the tempest of p…

DO you not feel the white glow in… That is the flame of love I send… Not a wafted kiss, hardly a whispe… But love itself that flies as a wh… Let it dwell there, let it rest th…

DUSK its ash-grey blossoms sheds… Over twilight mountains where the… Rise and fall and fade away from e… Earth renews the music sweeter. O… Come, acushla, come, as in ancient…

THE HEAVENS lay hold on us: t… Fondle with flickering fingers bro… A new enchantment lights the ancie… What is it looks between us gaze o… Does the wild spirit of the endles…

THE EAST was crowned with snow-… And hung with veils of pearly flee… They died away into the gloom, Vistas of peace—and deeper peace. And earth and air and wave and fir…

WHO is this unseen messenger For ever between me and her, Who brings love’s precious merchan… The golden breath, the dew of sigh… And the wild, gentle thoughts that…

THERE in her old-world garden sm… A symbol of the world’s desire, Striving with quaint and lovely wi… To bind to earth the soul of fire. And while I sit and listen there,

IT was the fairy of the place, Moving within a little light, Who touched with dim and shadowy g… The conflict at its fever height. It seemed to whisper “Quietness,”

WHO would think this quiet breath… From the world had taken flight? Yet within the form we see there Wakes the Golden King to-night. Out upon the face of faces

BY many a dream of God and man my… But as I went through Patrick St… The hopes and prophecies were dead… Walked amid rottenness, or where t… Where was the beauty that the Lor…

HIS head within my bosom lay, But yet his spirit slipped not thr… I only felt the burning clay That withered for the cooling dew. It was but pity when I spoke

BEARDED with dewy grass the mou… Their blackness high into the stil… Deepening to blue: far up the glim… In silver transience shines the st… Silent the sheep about me; fleece…