THROUGH her fair world of blossoms fresh and bright,
Veiled with her maiden innocence, she goes;
Not all the splendour of the waxing light
...
LET Housman sing of Severn shore,
Of Thames let Arnold sing,
But we will sing no river more
...
AS a little child whom his mother has chidden,
Wrecked in the dark in a storm of weeping,
Sleeps with his tear-stained eyes closed hidden
...
AMONG the shallows where the sand
Is golden and the waves are small,
I love to lie, and to my hand
How many little treasures fall!
...
DELIA, my dear, delightful Lady,
Time flies in town, you say,
New gowns shine fresh as May,
The Park is glad and gay,
...
LOVE, through your varied views on Art
Untiring have I followed you,
Content to know I had your heart
And was your Art-ideal, too.
...
THIS wind, that through the silent woodland blows,
O'er rippling corn and dreaming pastures goes
...
DEAR goddess of the shining shrine
Where all my votive tapers burn,
Where every gold-embroidered thought
And all my flowers of life are brought
...
THE lilies lean to the white, white rose,
The sweet limes send to the blossomed trees,
Soft kisses borne by the golden bees--
...
How soft the lamplight falls
On pictures, books,
And pleasant coloured walls
And curtains drawn!
...