COMPLAINING THAT HE… Oh, Lytton, I have gambled with m… And, like a spendthrift, pawned my… To pitiless Jews, and paid a mons… To knaves and usurers,—and all to…

O for a soul surrendered of all gu… A plain white soul with nothing on… No creed of mockery to make men sm… No boast of wisdom travestied as w… Only a clean soul where the infini…

THE SAME CONTINUED O world, in very truth thou art to… They gave thee love who measured o… And, when they found for thee anot… Who made a festival and straightwa…

What have I lost? The faith I ha… Must surely prove itself than Ill… For see how little my poor prayers… To save me, at the trial’s pinch,… What have I lost? The truth of my…

Since that it may not be, The thing my soul desires, And that Love’s tenderer fires Are doomed to loss and Time’s ste… Ours be it this one day

I have a thing to say. But how to… I have a cause to plead. But to w… How shall I move a world by lamen… A world which heeded not a Nation… How shall I speak of justice to t…

An old heart’s mourning is a hideo… And weeds upon an aged weeper clin… Like night upon a grave. The city… Gaunt as a woman who has once been… Lay black with winter, and the sil…

When thou art happy, thou dear hea… Because men love thee and the feas… And Fortune in thy lap has poured… And Spring is there and roses cro… Then think of one who loved thee f…

O FLY not, Pleasure, pleasant-he…    Fold me thy wings, I prithee,…    For my heart no measure    Knows, nor other treasure To buy a garland for my love to-da…

The river Thames has many a dear… In summer days for souls which kno… Or souls too careless of the vain… To heed its frowning while the hea… In boyhood all our pleasure was in…

A LATER DEDICATION To her the sweetest, fairest, wort… Who the inspirer is of my new prai… Whom lately once, one Autumn afte… I walked with nor told aught a lov…

What have I gained? A little char… I never more may dare to fling a s… At any weakness, nor make boast th… A better fence or fortitude had sh… Some learning? I in love’s lore h…

What name is his, thy knight’s? N… If fate should hear thee, child, w… Love rides disguised. He fears a… For his own plot of joy in heathen… Restrained he goes; a single rose—…

THE HAUNTED HOUSE How loud the storm blew all that b… The loosened ivy tapping on the pa… Woke me and woke, again and yet ag… Till I was full awake and sat upr…

What shall I tell you, child, in… Life’s art is to forget, and last… Cast in Time’s furrow with the st… Bears me a wild crop with strange… Last year I wore your sole rose i…