G'

IVE me thy shadows, youth,

O beautiful- and dim!

See, with thy laurelled truth,
My needy brows I trim !

Thy shadows, grant, and dreams,

O manifold- and frail!

Now with Promethean gleams

I come thy Light to hail!

Thy dreams, the changelings,
O radiant- and wist!

They slumber 'neath their wings
Night-folded in their mist!

O youth, thy shadowed star,
Thy dream-illumined face,

Now I, begirt, afar,
Uncomforted, retrace!

My yearly service witless of its force,

What days on days must clamorous silence brook
This peopled presence without voice or look?
My little Mother, now you answer not,
Wondering, I catch your quick response, forgot
Amid the lax assurance habit took.

My little Mother, now, a miser sad,

I hoard each smile which ministered my need,
Each ready gift of you, your heart made glad,
I gather now, to purge my lonely greed—
And like a child 'mid newer friends astray,
Ever I seek my friend of every day.

THE DREAM-CHILD

HAVE you seen the Dream-child pass this

way?

Hush, or you stir his quiet sleep!
Have you seen his little face to-day,
Drowsy with wonder still and deep?

Have you marked how radiant heaven left
Its trace expectant in his eyes?

Have you seen the Dream-child pass bereft?
Hush, or you stir his shadow-cries!

THE HERITAGE

HOU tired Soul, far buried in the gloom

THO

Of all the alien selves I may but guess, How have I borne thy heritage, thy stress Of things remembered, thy immortal doom Cassandra-like, to peer where augurs loom Of deeds to come, dumb craven now, 'neath fears Of sights portentous stormed unto deaf ears? What wast thou ere within the shadowed room Of my bare dwelling thou didst find a place? Through what dim centuries of flight, and whence Camest thou, my days impermanent to trace? Where wilt thou roam when thou must flee from hence

Once more into the wilderness alone

Poor Soul! unhoused, thy pride lies fallen, prone!

MY LADY OF CLOUDS

RADLED in mist, is my Lady of Clouds,

CRI

She is veiled with a shadow of wandering sky, She is rocked by the winds from their Eden on

high,

Oh, white as the Dawn, is my Lady of Clouds!

On thy shrine burn the stars, my Lady of

Clouds,

They illumine my dreams, that baffle the morn, And my soul that beheld thee, still watches for

lorn,

My soul now tempestuous, Lady of Clouds !