DREAM LAND.

WHERE sunless rivers weep

Their waves into the deep,

She sleeps a charmed sleep:

Awake her not.

Led by a single star,

She came from very far

To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.

She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,

For twilight cold and lorn

And water springs.

Through sleep, as through a veil,

She sees the sky look pale,

And hears the nightingale

That sadly sings.

Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast ;

Her face is toward the west

The purple land.

She cannot see the grain

Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain

Upon her hand.

Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;

Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease:

Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake

Her perfect peace.

AT HOME.

WHEN I was dead, my spirit turned

To seek the much-frequented house :

I passed the door, and saw my friends Feasting beneath green orange boughs; From hand to hand they pushed the wine, They sucked the pulp of plum and peach; They sang, they jested, and they laughed, For each was loved of each.

I listened 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:

66

To-morrow," cried they one and all,
While no one spoke of yesterday.
Their life stood full at blessed noon;
I, only I, had passed away :
"To-morrow and to-day," they cried;
I was of yesterday.

I shivered comfortless, but cast
No chill across the tablecloth ;
I all-forgotten shivered, sad

To stay and yet to part how loth :
I passed from the familiar room,
I who from love had passed away,
Like the remembrance of a guest
That tarrieth but a day.

66

Он

THE POOR GHOST.

H whence do you come, my dear friend, to me, With your golden hair all fallen below your knee, And your face as white as snowdrops on the lea, And your voice as hollow as the hollow sea?"

66

From the other world I come back to you,

My locks are uncurled with dripping drenching dew.
You know the old, whilst I know the new :
But to-morrow you shall know this too."

"Oh not to-morrow into the dark, I pray;
Oh not to-morrow, too soon to go away:
Here I feel warm and well-content and gay:
Give me another year, another day."

"Am I so changed in a day and a night

That mine own only love shrinks from me with fright,

Is fain to turn away to left or right

And cover up his eyes from the sight?"

"Indeed I loved you, my chosen friend,
I loved you for life, but life has an end;
Through sickness I was ready to tend:
But death mars all, which we cannot mend.

"Indeed I loved you; I love you yet,

If you will stay where your bed is set,

Where I have planted a violet

Which the wind waves, which the dew makes wet.”

"Life is gone, then love too is gone,

It was a reed that I leant upon :

Never doubt I will leave you alone

And not wake you rattling bone with bone.

66 I

go home alone to my bed,

Dug deep at the foot and deep at the head,
Roofed in with a load of lead,

Warm enough for the forgotten dead.

"But why did your tears soak through the clay,

And why did your sobs wake me where I lay? I was away, far enough away:

Let me sleep now till the Judgment Day."

GROWN AND FLOWN.

I

LOVED my

love from green of Spring

Until sere Autumn's fall;

But now that leaves are withering

How should one love at all?
One heart's too small

For hunger, cold, love, everything.

I loved my love on sunny days
Until late Summer's wane;
But now that frost begins to glaze
How should one love again?
Nay, love and pain

Walk wide apart in diverse ways.

I loved my love—alas to see
That this should be, alas !

I thought that this could scarcely be,
Yet has it come to pass:

Sweet sweet love was,

Now bitter bitter grown to me.