THE SECOND SERIES

U

SONNETS are full of love, and this my tome

Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home,
To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,

And she my loadstar while I go and come.
And so because you love me, and because

I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath

Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honoured

name:

In you not fourscore years can dim the flame Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws Of time and change and mortal life and death.

THE KEY-NOTE.

WHERE are the songs I used to know,

Where are the notes I used to sing?

I have forgotten everything

I used to know so long ago;

Summer has followed after Spring;

Now Autumn is so shrunk and sere,

I scarcely think a sadder thing
Can be the Winter of my year.

Yet Robin sings through Winter's rest,
When bushes put their berries on;
While they their ruddy jewels don,
He sings out of a ruddy breast;
The hips and haws and ruddy breast

Make one spot warm where snowflakes lie,

They break and cheer the unlovely rest
Of Winter's pause-and why not I?