An Island
Take it away, and swallow it yourself. Ha! Look you, there’s a rat. Last night there were a dozen on that shelf, And two of them were living in my hat. Look! Now he
Credo
I cannot find my way: there is no star In all the shrouded heavens anywhere; And there is not a whisper in the air Of any living voice but one so far That I
The Children of the Night
For those that never know the light, The darkness is a sullen thing; And they, the Children of the Night, Seem lost in Fortune’s winnowing. But some are strong and some are weak, And
Ballad by the Fire
Slowly I smoke and hug my knee, The while a witless masquerade Of things that only children see Floats in a mist of light and shade: They pass, a flimsy cavalcade, And with a
Llewellyn and the Tree
Could he have made Priscilla share The paradise that he had planned, Llewellyn would have loved his wife As well as any in the land. Could he have made Priscilla cease To goad him
The Tavern
Whenever I go by there nowadays And look at the rank weeds and the strange grass, The torn blue curtains and the broken glass, I seem to be afraid of the old place; And
Atherton's Gambit
The Master played the bishop’s pawn, For jest, while Atherton looked on; The master played this way and that, And Atherton, amazed thereat, Said “Now I have a thing in view That will enlighten
Two Men
There be two men of all mankind That I should like to know about; But search and question where I will, I cannot ever find them out. Melchizedek he praised the Lord, And gave
Uncle Ananias
His words were magic and his heart was true, And everywhere he wandered he was blessed. Out of all ancient men my childhood knew I choose him and I mark him for the best.
Modernities
Small knowledge have we that by knowledge met May not some day be quaint as any told In almagest or chronicle of old, Whereat we smile because we are as yet The last-though not
John Evereldown
“Where are you going to-night, to-night, Where are you going, John Evereldown? There’s never the sign of a star in sight, Nor a lamp that’s nearer than Tilbury Town. Why do you stare as
Firelight
Ten years together without yet a cloud, They seek each other’s eyes at intervals Of gratefulness to firelight and four walls For love’s obliteration of the crowd. Serenely and perennially endowed And bowered as
For a Dead Lady
No more with overflowing light Shall fill the eyes that now are faded, Nor shall another’s fringe with night Their woman-hidden world as they did. No more shall quiver down the days The flowing
The Story Of The Ashes And The Flame
No matter why, nor whence, nor when she came, There was her place. No matter what men said, No matter what she was; living or dead, Faithful or not, he loved her all the
Sainte-Nitouche
Though not for common praise of him, Nor yet for pride or charity, Still would I make to Vanderberg One tribute for his memory: One honest warrant of a friend Who found with him