As I went, as I went
Over the mountains,
I heard, I heard,
Through cloud-wreath and mist,
...
Keep thou
Thy tearless watch
All night but when blue-dawn
Breathes on the silver moon, then weep!
...
Fugitive, wistful,
Pausing at edge of her going,
Autumn, the maiden, turns,
Leans to the earth with ineffable
...
The poet pursues his beautiful theme;
The preacher his golden beatitude;
And I run after a vanishing dream—
...
Madonna, Madonnina
Sat by the grey road-side,
Saint Joseph her beside,
And Our Lord at her breast;
...
The morning is new and the skies are fresh washed with light,
The day cometh in with the sun and I awake laughing.
...
Little my lacking fortunes show
For this to eat and that to wear;
Yet laughing, Soul, and gaily go!
An obol pays the Stygian fare.
...
I make my shroud, but no one knows --
So shimmering fine it is and fair,
With stitches set in even rows,
I make my shroud, but no one knows.
...
Not spring's
Thou art, but hers,
Most cool, most virginal,
...