of pity,--ah, the wonderment,--
He never knew, and yet how well he knew!

The Little Ghosts

Where are they gone, and do you know
If they come back at fall o' dew,
The little ghosts of long ago,
That long ago were you?

And all the songs that ne'er were sung,
And all the dreams that ne'er came true,
Like little children dying young,--
Do they come back to you?

I Know a Quiet Vale

I know a quiet vale where faint winds blow
The silver poplar branches all awry,
And ne'er another sound comes drifting by
Save where the stream's cool waters softly flow;
Wild roses riot there and violets throw
Their perfume recklessly, the while on high
Great snowy clouds pillow the smiling sky
And cast frail shadows on the grass below.

All is the same, the summer stillness dreams
In idleness across the sunny leas,
Until for very drowsiness it seems
The wind has gone to sleep within the trees--
Yet we once laughed at what the years might bring,
And now I am alone, remembering.

Song

Blurred is the moon in a yellow stain,
And the clouds are flying before the wind,
The leaves fall fast in a ghostly rain,--
Summer is left behind.

And left behind the long nights of June,
When the lights were soft in the waters' shine--
Softer your lips when they first met mine--
Blurred is the Autumn moon.

_Blurred is the moon in a yellow stain,
And oh, for the warmth of your arms again!_

Immutability

Within your hands you hold the wealth of years,
Old Time,--yes, all the gold of yesterday,
All of love's sunshine and the bitter gray
Of tears--oh, the great multitude of tears;
For everything is yours within the spheres
To give or take, or break, or keep for aye,
Nor heed you e'en one wild cry of dismay,
But gather on until all disappears.

Yet love is sweet and we are not so old,
Nor did the gods mean us to separate.
O Time you cannot take my love from me,
Life has so much, so very much to hold
For each,--I must not dream it is too late
And that we'll dwell no more in Arcady.

In the Fall o' Year

I went back an old-time lane
In the fall o' year,
There was wind and bitter rain
And the leaves were sere.

Once the birds were lilting high
In a far-off May--
I remember, you and I
Were as glad as they.

But t