lds enchantment round each hidden bend,
Our course uncompassed and our whim its end,
Our feet once more, beloved, to the road!

SONG: MY SPIRIT LIKE A SHEPHERD BOY
"Convalescente di squisiti mali"

MY spirit like a shepherd boy
Goes dancing down the lane.
When all the world is young with joy
Must I lie here in pain?

With shepherd's pipe my spirit fled
And cloven foot of Pan;
The mortal bondage he has shed
And shackling yoke of man.

And though he leave me cold and mute,
A traitor to his care,
I smile to hear his honeyed flute
Hang on the scented air.

CONVALESCENCE

WHEN I am in the Orient once again,
And turn into the gay and squalid street,
One side in the shadow, one in vivid heat,
The thought of England, fresh beneath the rain,
Will rise unbidden as a gently pain.
The lonely hours of illness, as they beat
Crawling through days with slow laborious feet,
And I lay gazing through the leaded pane,
Idle, and listened to the swallows' cry
After the flitting insect swiftly caught,
--Those all-too-leisured hours as they went by,
Stamped as their heritage upon my thought
The memory of a square of summer sky
Jagged by the gables of a Gothic court.

TO KNOLE
October 1, 1913

I
I LEFT thee in the crowds and in the light,
And if I laughed or sorrowed none could tell.
They could not know our true and deep farewell
Was spoken in the long preceding night.

Thy mighty shadow in the garden's dip!
To others dormant, but to me awake;
I saw a window in the moonlight shake,
And traced the angle of the gable's lip,

And knew thy soul, benign and grave and mild,
Towards me, morsel of morality,
And grieving at the parting soon to be,
A patriarch about to lose a child.

For many come and soon their tale is told,
And thou remainest, dimly feeling pain,
Aware the time draws near to don again
The sober mourning of the very old.

II
Pictures and galleries and empty rooms!
Small wonder that my games were played alone;
Half of the rambling house to call my own,
And wooded gardens with mysterious glooms.

My fingers ran among the tassels faded;
My playmates moved in arrases brocaded;
I slept beside the canopied and shaded
Beds of forgotten kings.
I wandered shoeless in the galleries;
I contemplated long the tapestries,
And loved the ladies for their histories
And hands with many ring