When the long day has faded to its end, The flowers gone, and all the singing done, And there is no companion left save Death - Ah! there is one, Though in her grave she lies this many a year,...
When the shy star goes forth in heaven All maidenly, disconsolate, Hear you amid the drowsy even One who is singing by your gate. His song is softer than the dew And he is come to visit you. ...
Wasn't it a good time, Long Time Ago - When we all were little tads And first played "Show"! - When every newer day Wore as bright a glow As the ones we laughed away - Long Time Ago! ...
When yon full moon's with her white fleet of stars, And but one bird makes music in the grove; When you and I are breathing side by side, Where our two bodies make one shadow, love; ...
Where forlorn sunsets flare and fade On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange command Calling you still, as friend calls friend...
In the winter children go Walking in the fields of snow Where there is no grass at all, And the top of every wall, Every fence, and every tree Is as white as white can be. ...
Who fancied what a pretty sight This Rock would be if edged around With living snow-drops? circlet bright! How glorious to this orchard-ground! Who loved the little Rock, and set...
Who will go drive with Fergus now, And pierce the deep wood's woven shade, And dance upon the level shore? Young man, lift up your russet brow, And lift your tender eyelids, maid,...
Who lights the fire--that forth so gracefully And freely frolicketh the fairy smoke? Some pretty one who never felt the yoke-- Glad girl, or maiden more sedate than she. ...
Why fades a dream? An iridescent ray Flecked in between the tryst Of night and day. Why fades a dream?-- Of consciousness the shade Wrought out by lack of light and made Upon life's stream....
Why should I care for the men of thames Or the cheating waves of charter'd streams Or shrink at the little blasts of fear That the hireling blows into my ear
The Spring is gone. I have not seen Its fairies tripping on the Block, Arcadians in grey and green, The happy flapper in a frock So dainty that the breezes fret It like the smoke of cigarette. ...
Marie Fortelka, widow, mother of Josef, Now seventeen, an invalid at home In a house, in Halstead Street, his running side Aching with broken ribs, read in the Times...