- J. E. B
Not all the pageant of the setting sun
Should yield the tired eyes of man delight,
No sweet beguiling power had stars at night
To soothe his fainting heart when day is done,
...
- With April Arbutus, To A Friend
Fairer than we the woods of May,
Yet sweeter blossoms do not grow
Than these we send you from our snow,
Cramped are their stems by winter's cold,...
- Songs Of Two
I
Last night I dreamed this dream: That I was dead;
And as I slept, forgot of man and God,...
- On The Fly-leaf Of The Rubaiyat
Deem not this book a creed, ‘t is but the cry
Of one who fears not death, yet would not die;
Who at the table feigns with sorry jest.
To love the wine the Master's hand has pressed,...
- On Ne Badine Pas Avec La Mort
1
The dew was full of sun that morn
(Oh I heard the doves in the ladyricks coop!)...