.

She passes like a misty glimmer on
To where the rose blooms wan,--
A twilight moth in flight,--
As in the west its streak of chrysolite
The dusk erases quite,
And ushers in the night.

And now another shadow passes slow,
With firefly light a-glow:
The scent of a cigar,
And two who kiss beneath the evening-star,
Where, in a moonbeam bar,
A whippoorwill cries afar.

Again the tale is told, that has been told
So often here of old:
Ghosts of dead lovers they?
Or memories only of some perished day?--
Old ghosts, no time shall lay,
That haunt the place alway.

_THE NAME ON THE TREE_

I saw a name carved on a tree--"Julia";
A simpler name there could not be--Julia:
But seeing it I seemed to see
A Devon garden,--pleasantly
About a parsonage,--the bee
Made drowsy-sweet; where rosemary
And pink and phlox and peony
Bowed down to one
Whom Herrick made to bloom in Poetry.

A moment there I saw her stand,--Julia;
A gillyflower in her hand,--Julia:
And then, kind-faced and big and bland,
As raised by some magician's wand,
Herrick himself passed by, sun-tanned,
And smiling; and the quiet land
Seemed to take on and understand
A dream long dreamed,
And for the lives of two some gladness planned.

And then I seemed to hear a sigh,--"Julia!"
And someone softly walking nigh,--Julia:
The leaves shook; and a butterfly
Trailed past; and through the sleepy sky
A bird flew, crying strange its cry--
Then suddenly before my eye
Two lovers strolled--They knew not why
I looked amazed,--
But I had seen old ghosts of long dead loves go by.

_THE HAUNTED GARDEN_

There a tattered marigold
And dead asters manifold,
Showed him where the garden old
Of time bloomed:
Briar and thistle overgrew
Corners where the rose once blew,
Where the phlox of every hue
Lay entombed.

Here a coreopsis flower
Pushed its disc above a bower,
Where once poured a starry shower,
Bronze and gold:
And a twisted hollyhock,
And the remnant of a stock,
Struggled up, 'mid burr and dock,
Through the mold.

Flower-pots, with mossy cloak,
Strewed a place beneath an oak,
Where the garden-bench lay broke
By the tree:
And he though