SONG.

She sat and sang alway

By the green margin of a stream,

watching the fishes leap and play

Beneath the glad sunbeam.

I sat and wept alway

Beneath the moon's most shadowy beam,

Watching the blossoms of the May

Weep leaves into the stream.

I wept for memory;

She sang for hope that is so fair:

My tears were swallowed by the sea;

Her songs died on the air.

SONG.

When I am dead, my dearest,

Sing no sad songs for me;

Plant thou no roses at my head,

Nor shady cypress tree :

Be the green grass above me

With showers and dewdrops wet;

And if thou wilt, remember,

And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,

I shall not feel the rain;

I shall not hear the nightingale

Sing on, as if in pain :

And dreaming through the twilight

That doth not rise nor set,

Haply I may remember,

And haply may forget.

DEAD BEFORE DEATH.

sonnet.

Ah! changed and cold, how changed and very cold,
With stiffened smiling lips and cold calm eyes :

Changed, yet the same; much knowing, little wise; This was the promise of the days of old!

Grown hard and stubborn in the ancient mould,

Grown rigid in the sham of lifelong lies:

We hoped for better things as years would rise,

But it is over as a tale once told.

All fallen the blossom that no fruitage bore,
All lost the present and the future time,
All lost, all lost, the lapse that went before:
So lost till death shut-to the opened door,
So lost from chime to everlasting chime,

So cold and lost for ever evermore.

BITTER FOR SWEET.

Summer is gone with all its roses,

Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,

Its warm air and refreshing showers:
And even Autumn closes.

Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going,

And winter comes which is yet colder;
Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder

And the last buds cease blowing.