Through the pauses of thy fervid singing
Fell crystal sound
That thy fingers from the keys were flinging
Lightly around:
I felt the vine-like harmonies close clinging
About my soul;
And to my eyes, as fruit of their sweet bringing,
The full tear stole!

Ever the strong, salt life, ever the dream,
Ever the pulsing force, the mystery
Of tireless Nature working 'neath the stars
Her destiny apart from human things.

Habit makes it grow easy and easier,
this peeling of veils from my heart.
One of these days I'll have the brute naked.
I, for one, want to see him.

Softly doth the sun descend
To his couch behind the hill,
Then, oh, then, I love to sit
On mossy banks beside the rill.

Wealth, like a Pegasus, doth runne, or Flee,
(As swift as Thought) especially from those
That nere are gladd, but when at game they bee,
Though all their Wealth thereby, in Post, they loose:
And so when Wealth away, is posted quite,
They runne away, or else play least In sight.

Wind passing over
lotus leaves
out on a pond—
dewdrops cascading;
in autumn,
the cooling sound
of rain coming down.

“Oh, give me good mothers! Yea, great, glad mothers,
Proud mothers of dozens, indeed twice ten;
Fair mothers of daughters and mothers of men,
With old-time clusters of sisters and brothers,
When grand Greeks lived like to gods, and when
Brave mothers of men, strong breasted and broad,
Did exult in fulfilling the purpose of God.”

Though on the wings of Thought I distance
The star-vault's pallid bound,
'Tis Love must fill my heart's insistence
With heaven on earthly ground.

I venture this advice to U.;
On entering O. P., mind your Q;
Strive to X. L.; or men of spirit
Will quickly W. in merit.
If these my hints are rightly prized,
You'll on your shoulders keep A. Y. Z.

Within this monumental bed
Apollo's favourite rests his head:
Ye Muses, cease your grieving.
A son the father's loss supplies,
Be comforted, though Colman dies,
His “Heir at Law” is living.