and creamy white and rose,
Complexioned like the flower of dawn,
Her fleeting colours are as those
That, from an April sky withdrawn,
Fade in a fragrant mist of tears away
When weeping noon leads on the altered day.

IMPRESSION.

TO M. C.

THE pink and black of silk and lace,
Flushed in the rosy-golden glow
Of lamplight on her lifted face;
Powder and wig, and pink and lace,

And those pathetic eyes of hers;
But all the London footlights know
The little plaintive smile that stirs
The shadow in those eyes of hers.

Outside, the dreary church-bell tolled,
The London Sunday faded slow;
Ah, what is this? what wings unfold
In this miraculous rose of gold?

AN ANGEL OF PERUGINO.

HAVE I not seen your face before
Where Perugino's angels stand
In those calm circles, and adore
With singing throat and lifted hand?

So the pale hair lay crescent-wise,
About the placid forehead curled,
And the pale piety of eyes
Was as God's peace upon the world.

And you, a simple child serene,
Wander upon your quiet way,
Nor know that any eyes have seen
The Umbrian halo crown the day.

AT FONTAINEBLEAU.

IT was a day of sun and rain,
Uncertain as a child's quick moods;
And I shall never pass again
So blithe a day among the woods.

The forest knew you and was glad,
And laughed for very joy to know
Her child was with her; then, grown sad,
She wept, because her child must go.

And you would spy and you would capture
The shyest flower that lit the grass:
The joy I had to watch your rapture
Was keen as even your rapture was.

The forest knew you and was glad,
And laughed and wept for joy and woe.
This was the welcome that you had
Among the woods of Fontainebleau.

ON THE HEATH.

HER face's wilful flash and glow
Turned all its light upon my face
One bright delirious moment's space,
And then she passed: I followed slow

Across the heath, and up and round,
And watched the splendid death of day
Upon the summits far away,
And in her fateful beauty found

The fierce wild beauty of the light
That startles twilight on the hills,
And lightens all the mountain rills,
And flames before the feet of night.

IN THE ORATORY.

THE incense mounted like a cloud,
A golden cloud of languid scent;
Robed priests before the altar bowed,
Expecting the divine event.

Then