wake,
Primroses pale and cool,
Anemones like stars that shake
In a green twilight pool--

On these still lay the enchanted shade,
The magic April sun;
With my own child a child I strayed
And thought the years were one.

As through the copse she went and came
My senses lost their truth;
I called her by the dear dead name
That sweetened all my youth.

{144}

_To a River in the South_

Call me no more, O gentle stream,
To wander through thy sunny dream,
No more to lean at twilight cool
Above thy weir and glimmering pool.

Surely I know thy hoary dawns,
The silver crisp on all thy lawns,
The softly swirling undersong
That rocks thy reeds the winter long.

Surely I know the joys that ring
Through the green deeps of leafy spring;
I know the elfin cups and domes
That are their small and secret homes.

Yet is the light for ever lost
That daily once thy meadows crossed,
The voice no more by thee is heard
That matched the song of stream and bird.

Call me no more!--thy waters roll
Here, in the world that is my soul,
And here, though Earth be drowned in night,
Old love shall dwell with old delight.

{145}

_On the Death of a Noble Lady_

Time, when thou shalt bring again
Pallas from the Trojan plain,
Portia from the Roman's hall,
Brynhild from the fiery wall,
Eleanor, whose fearless breath
Drew the venom'd fangs of Death,
And Philippa doubly brave
Or to conquer or to save--

When thou shalt on one bestow
All their grace and all their glow,
All their strength and all their state,
All their passion pure and great,
Some far age may honour then
Such another queen of men.

{146}

_Midway_

Turn back, my Soul, no longer set
Thy peace upon the years to come
Turn back, the land of thy regret
Holds nothing doubtful, nothing dumb.

There are the voices, there the scenes
That make thy life in living truth
A tale of heroes and of queens,
Fairer than all the hopes of youth.

{147}

_Ad Matrem Dolorosam_

Think not thy little fountain's rain
That in the sunlight rose and flashed,
From the bright sky has fallen again,
To cold and shadowy silence dashed.
The Joy that in her radiance leapt
From everlasting hath not slept.

The hand that to thy hand was dear,
The untroubled eyes that mirrored thine,
The voice that gave thy s