he branches now are bare
And the lad you knew,
Long ago was buried there--
Long ago with you!

Love's Song

If I had never known
How far would I have wandered wistfully alone,
Hearing no echo of that wondrous song
Whose music lingers long.

Beside whose sweetness pale
Even the soft notes of the nightingale,
Whose theme is wrought of laughter and of tears
From all the deathless years.

Ah, better thus by far
To once have felt the barriers unbar,
And known the moment in a rapt surprise
The song of Paradise!

The Golden Hour

The winds may blow, the sleet may dash the pane
And all our lonely road be clothed in gray,
Yet what care we how dark may be the way,
Or whether e'er we see the sun again;
On shall we journey through the stinging rain,
Our glad hearts beating to a roundelay
Learned long ago in one great, joyous day,
When we first knew we had not lived in vain.

We two have lived, we drank the ruddy wine
And felt the wonder of its burning kiss--
Let come what may there is no earthly power
Can take away that rapture, yours and mine.
Others may weep, who would give all for this,
To find what we have found--the golden hour!

The Dream-Way

It did not look so far, and yet, and yet,
The moments were so easy to forget,
For now without your hand to guide, it seems
I seek in vain to find a way of dreams.

A moon-lit path between aspiring trees,
'Neath wind-blown leaves rustling in harmonies,
A little song that I may never sing--
But oh, the wondrous memory lingering.

And though I never may return until
I clasp your hand beyond these years, why still
There is one guide the path of life along--
A fleeting end of dream-remembered song.

The Spirit of Autumn

Where the winds low list and the leafless trees
Stand gaunt and gray 'gainst the sullen sky,
The naked boughs whisper melodies
Of Summer spent and of Spring gone by--
Of days once glad that are gone forever,
Of lips once true that will answer never,
Of life and love that are but as these
Dead leaves of Autumn grown withered and dry.

But a spirit haunts in the moon's pale glow
And all is changed as she sings a strain,
While the night winds hearken and lightly blow
Her loose-bound hair in a raven-rain--
And bear her song to the distant closes,
Where many a