THE Day brims high its ewer Of blue with starry light, And crowns as King that hewer Of clouds (which take their flight Across the sky) old Night.

Small twilight singer Of dew and mist: thou ghost-gray,… Of dusk’s dim glimmer, How chill thy note sounds; how thy… Vibrate, soft-sighing,

Over the rocks she trails her lock… Her mossy locks that drip, drip, d… Her sparkling eyes smile at the sk… In friendship-wise and fellowship: While the gleam and glance of her…

There is a music of immaculate lov… That beats within the virgin veins… And trillium blossoms, like the st… To fairies’ wands; and, strung on… White-hearts and mandrake blooms t…

In dim samite was she bedight, And on her hair a hoop of gold, Like fox-fire in the tawn moonligh… Was glimmering cold. With soft gray eyes she gloomed an…

The hornets build in plaster-dropp… And on its mossy porch the lizard… Around its chimneys slow the swall… And on its roof the locusts snow t… Like some sad thought that broods…

Old Sis Snow, with hair ablow, Down the road now see her go! Her old gown pulled back and pinne… Round her legs by Wild-boy Wind Ough n’t he to just be skinned?

She passed the thorn-trees, whose… Their spider-shadows round her; an… Beneath the ashen moon, was full o… And mouthed and mumbled to the sic… Like some starved hag who sees her…

What sighed the Forest to the nes… ‘So young, so old, Love, Help me to mold This life I hold.’

Above the circus of the world she… Beautiful and base, a harlot crown… Fierce nations, upon whom she snee… Shrieked at her feet and for her p…

His Birthday, October the 7th, 19… RILEY, whose pen has made the wo… Whose Art has kept you young thro… Brimming our hearts with laughter… Holding her faith pure to the very…

FEBRILE perfumes as of faded ro… In the old house speak of love to-… Love long past; and where the soft… Down the west gleams, golden-red,… Pointing where departed splendor p…

Misty are the far-off hills And misty are the near; Purple hazes dimly lie Veiling hill and field and sky, Marshes where the hylas cry,

In some glad way I know thereof: A garden glows down in my heart, Wherein I meet and often part With many an ancient tale of love A Romeo garden, banked with bloom…

The memory of what we’ve lost Is with us more than what we’ve wo… Perhaps because we count the cost By what we could, yet have not don… ‘Twixt act and purpose fate hath d…