es of his pipe ring free.

from his heart doth reach to hers: down, O lady! to me."

er head, she dons her gown: lady is fair;

e girdle on her waist,

ds her flaxen hair,

she stealeth, down and down, ne turret stair.

m! With the flock he wons
on grassy lea.

herd lord, my shepherd love,
ilt thou, then, with me?
is gone out of my breast,
loweth on to thee."

II

e lambs feed in tender grass; em and thee to bide,

it were," she saith at noon; the meads are wide.

s me," she saith when day on to eventide.

rk! the shepherd's voice. Oh, sweet!

rs drop down like rain.

w this crook, my chosen, my fere,

ad the flock full fain;

, O lady, and lose not one, all come again."

SLEEP

(A Woman Speaks)

EP, we are beholden to thee, sleep,
ou bearest angels to us in the night,
of heaven with palms. Seen by thy light
some old tale that goeth not deep;
pouting child. Once I did sweep

■space with thee, and, lo, a dazzling sight-
They came on, I felt their drawing and

ight;

= had dark companions.

Once (I weep

Her wed

Sewing

a long mistake: he had not died. the world to come how strange 'twill be want, never to wish for thee!

E LONG WHITE SEAM

came round the harbor buoy, he lights began to gleam, e the land-locked water stirred, rags were white as cream; marked my love by candle-light g her long white seam,

e sewing ashore, my dear; hand steer at sea,

f and furl, and haul the line, ail and think of thee.

Il the lights, the harbor-lights, brought me in to thee.

cace drop down on that low roof he sight that I did see,

e voice, my dear, that rang so clear for the love of me.

for O, with brows bent low he candle's flickering gleam, dding-gown it was she wrought, g the long white seam.

rth,

orrow wakes and cries,

there is dawn in the far, far north,

carlet sun doth rise;

let fleece the snow-field spreads, icy fount runs free;

ergs begin to bow their heads, nge and sail in the sea.

love, and my own, own love, love that loved me so! ver a chink in the world above

hey listen for words from below? ke once, and I grieved thee sore; bered all that I said;

hou wilt hear me no more-no more sea gives up her dead.

set thy foot on the ship, and sail ce-fields and the snow;

sad, for thy love did not avail, end I could not know.

I tell I should love thee to-day,

nat day I held not dear?

PASSED a From tiny

each a mo

And of the

Pantastic chat Whereof the

Gossip, how Gossip, th well."

And hearkeni Were in the Concerning ho For a clear

And visions o Hailing dow And quivering And blank

When shoul hie

Where cost (Fortunate c Swarm with

did not love thee anear?

I tell I should love thee away

To fringe

-art no more in the wind and the rain

my last farewell was said;

ps I shall meet thee and know thee again e sea gives up her dead.

"When shou In slumbr

Where rosy

an inland cliff precipitate;

y caves peeped many a sooty poll; other-martin sat elate,

e news delivered her small soul.

atter! hasty, glad, and gay,
he meaning was not ill to tell:

99

wags the world with you to-day?' the world wags well, the world wags

ning, I was sure their little ones ne bird-talk, and discourse was made not sea-bights and tropic suns, r sultriness the tune conveyed;

of the sky as of a cup

own light on pagan Pharaoh's sand, ng air-waves trembling up and up, k stone faces marvelously bland.

ld the young be fledged, and with them

tly day drops down in crimson light? countries of the firefly

th blue diamonds all the sultry night,

nmortal moon takes turn with them.) uld they pass again by that red land, y mirage works a broidered hem with phantom palms a robe of sand?

ld they dip their breasts again and play ous azure pools clear as the air,' -winged flamingoes fish all day, amid the lotus blossoms fair?