demand,

lyre.

A DIRGE FOR SUMMER SUMMER dieth :— o'er his bier Chant a requiem low and clear ! Chant it for his dying flowers, Chant it for his flying hours. Let them wither all together Now the world is past the prime Of the golden olden-time.

Let them die, and dying Summer Yield his kingdom to the comer From the islands of the West : He is weary, let him rest! And let mellow Autumn's yellow Fall upon the leafy prime Of the golden olden-time.

Go, ye days, your deeds are done!
Be yon clouds about the sun
Your imperial winding-sheet;
Let the night winds as they fleet
Tell the story of the glory

Of the free great-hearted prime
Of the golden olden-time.

WHAT THE TRUMPETER SAID
AT a pot-house bar as I chanced to pass
I saw three men by the flare of the gas:
Soldiers two, with their red-coats gay,
And the third from Chelsea, a pensioner
gray,

THE UNSEEN WORLD

AT HOME

WHEN I was dead, my spirit turn'd

To seek the much-frequented house : I pass'd the door, and saw my friends

Feasting beneath green orange-boughs; From hand to hand they push'd the wine, They suck'd the pulp of plum and peach; They sang, they jested, and they laugh'd, For each was lov'd of each.

I listen'd to their honest chat:

Said one: "To-morrow we shall be Plod plod along the featureless sands,

And coasting miles and miles of sea." Said one: "Before the turn of tide We will achieve the eyrie-seat." Said one: "To-morrow shall be like To-day, but much more sweet."

"To-morrow," said they, strong with hope, And dwelt upon the pleasant way: "To-morrow," cried they, one and all, While no one spoke of yesterday. Their life stood full at blessed noon; I, only I, had pass'd away: 'To-morrow and to-day," they cried; I was of yesterday.

That hid my face, or take my hand in his,

Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head :
He did not love me living; but once dead
He pitied me; and very sweet it is
To know he still is warm though I am cold.

WIFE TO HUSBAND

PARDON the faults in me,
For the love of years ago:
Good-by.

I must drift across the sea,
I must sink into the snow,
I must die.

You can bask in this sun,
You can drink wine, and eat :
Good-by.

I must gird myself and run,
Though with unready feet:
I must die.

Blank sea to sail upon, Cold bed to sleep in : Good-by.

FROM "MONNA INNOMINATA”

ABNEGATION

Ir there be any one can take my place And make you happy whom I grieve to grieve,

Think not that I can grudge it, but believe

I do commend you to that nobler grace, That readier wit than mine, that sweeter face;

Yea, since your riches make me rich, conceive

I too am crown'd, while bridal crowns I weave,

And thread the bridal dance with jocund pace.

For if I did not love you, it might be That I should grudge you some one dear delight;

But since the heart is yours that was mine

For there is nothing new beneath the sun;
Our doings have been done,
And that which shall be was.

THE THREAD OF LIFE

THE irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to

me:

Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand

Thou too aloof, bound with the flawless band

Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;

But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?

What heart shall touch thy heart? what hand thy hand?

And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,

And sometimes I remember days of old When fellowship seem'd not so far to seek And all the world and I seem'd much less cold,

And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold, And hope felt strong and life itself not weak.

FROM "LATER LIFE"

VI

WE lack, yet cannot fix upon the lack: Not this, nor that; yet somewhat, certainly.

We see the things we do not yearn to see Around us and what see we glancing back? Lost hopes that leave our hearts upon the rack,

Hopes that were never ours yet seem'd to be,

For which we steer'd on life's salt stormy

sea

Braving the sunstroke and the frozen pack.
If thus to look behind is all in vain,
And all in vain to look to left or right,
Why face we not our future once again,
Launching with hardier hearts across the
main,

Straining dim eyes to catch the invisible sight,

And strong to bear ourselves in patient pain?

Two gaz'd into a pool, he gaz'd and she, Not hand in hand, yet heart in heart, I think,

Pale and reluctant on the water's brink,
As on the brink of parting which must be.
Each eyed the other's aspect, she and he,
Each felt one hungering heart leap up and
sink,

Each tasted bitterness which both must drink,

There on the brink of life's dividing sea.
Lilies upon the surface, deep below
Two wistful faces craving each for each,
Resolute and reluctant without speech: —
A sudden ripple made the faces flow
One moment join'd, to vanish out of reach :
So these hearts join'd, and ah! were parted

So.

TWIST ME A CROWN

TWIST me a crown of wind-flowers;
That I may fly away

To hear the singers at their song,
And players at their play.