A cat's wife —
grown thin from
love and barley?

Take me, O my Father! take me —
Take me, save me, through thy Son;
That which thou wouldst have me, make me,
Let thy will in me be done.

Long from thee my footsteps straying,
Thorny proved the way I trod;
Weary come I now, and praying —
Take me to thy love, my God!

Fruitless years with grief recalling,
Humbly I confess my sin!
At thy feet, O Father, falling,
To thy household take me in.

Freely now to thee I proffer,
This relenting heart of mine;
Freely, life and soul I offer,

Wee Shemus was a misdropt man
Without a shoulder to his back;
He had the way to lift a rann
And throttled rabbits in a sack.

And red-haired Mary whom he wed,
Brought him but thirty shillings told;
She had but one eye in her head,
But Shemus counted it for gold.

The two went singing in the hay
Or kissing underneath the sloes,
And where they chanced to pass the day
There was no need to scare the crows.

But now with Mary waked and laid
As decent as she lived and died,
Poor Shemus went to buy a spade

I called for love;
And at the name,
From a black sky
White lightning came.

I called for love,
Then sank abashed;
From a dumb cloud
Wild thunder crashed.

The gulls are mad-in-love with the river
And the river unveils her face and smiles.
In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings.
She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her.
He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her.
There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter.
Be careful, my beautiful waking one! you will catch on fire.
Wheeling and flying with the foam of the sea on their breasts
The ineffable mists of the sea clinging to their wild wings
Crying the rapture of the boundless ocean.

The Cupid child tired of the winter day
Wept and lamented for the skies of blue
Till, foolish child! he cried his eyes away—
And violets grew.

Wild roses hidden in the hedge
Surrender to the lips of June;
White lilies cloistered in the sedge
Permit the kisses of the moon.

And oh, my heart desires your love,
As never June desires a rose,
And never the pale moon above
Such longing for a lily knows.

And yet your love I vainly seek,
Unto my love no love replies,
No blush gives answer in your cheek,
No passion lightens in your eyes.

Ardent as June I watch and wait,
Pale as the moon I pace your sky;
O Lady, be compassionate,
And kiss and love me, or I die.

Not me you love — not me so maimed and marred,
So flecked with flaws,
So sullied and so scarred,
Or, loving me, you love me just because
Your faith can see
Embalmed in me
The boy-who-was —
The poet-boy, so starry and ill-starred,
Who died of life too hopeless and too hard.

Flame-footed youth, have you a mind
To follow Ecstasy—
To woo pale Ecstasy for friend?
Is that the crock of gold you'd find
Under the rainbow's end?

The wooing-wisdom they reap so
Who win from fever free,
'Tis not a crop that fools may scorn—
But do you know, boy, do you know
How late true love is born?

First-love's a star will flare to nought—
Will fall and coasting flee—
Escaping, as it falls, like fire;
But true love's old—a singing thought
More lovely than desire.

" Thy own wish wish I thee in every place. "
The Christmas joy, the song, the feast, the cheer,
Thine be the light of love in every face
That looks on thee, to bless thy coming year.

Thy own wish wish I thee. What dost thou crave?
All thy dear hopes be thine, whate'er they be.
A wish fulfilled may make thee king or slave;
I wish thee Wisdom's eyes wherewith to see.

Behold, she stands and waits, the youthful year!
A breeze of morning breathes about her brows;
She holds thy storm and sunshine, bliss and fear,