Maurice Henry Hewlett

When she had left us but a little while Methought I sensed her spirit here and there About my house: upon the empty stair

Not that dull spleen which serves i' the world for scorn, Is hers I watch from far off, worshipping As in remote Chaldaea the ancient king

That hour when thou and Grief were first acquainted Thou wrotest, "Come, for I have lookt on death." Piteous I held my indeterminate breath

Blue is the Adrian sea, and darkly blue The 'gean; and the shafted sun thro' them, That fishes grope to, gives the beamy hue

(AT WESTMINSTER) Within these long gray shadows many dead Lie waiting: we wait with them. Do you believe

Hearken, O passers, what thing Fortuned in Hellas. A maid, Lissom and white as the roe,

Love owes tribute unto Death, Being but a flower of breath, Ev'n as thy fair body is

To the Fountain of my long Dream, To the Chalice of all my Sorrow, To the Lamp held up, and the Stream

My thought of thee is tortured in my sleep-- Sometimes thou art near beside me, but a cloud Doth grudge me thy pale face, and rise to creep

Oh, I am weak to serve thee as I ought; My shroud of flesh obscures thy deity, So thy sweet Spirit that should embolden me

Late, when the sun was smouldering down the west, She took my arm and laid her cheek to me; The fainting twilight held her, and I guess'd

Meseems thine eyes are two still-folded lakes Wherein deep water reflects the guardian sky, Searching wherein I see how Heaven is nigh

Gnatho, Satyr, homing at dusk, Trotting home like a tired dog, By mountain slopes 'twixt the junipers

PROEM Sing of the end of Troy, and of that flood Of passion by the blood

Before you pass and leave me gaunt and chill Alone to do what I have joyed in doing In your glad sight, suffer me, nor take ill

Queen of the shadows, Maid and Wife, Twifold in essence, as in life, The lamp of Death, the star of Birth,

Long loving, all our love was husbanded Until one morning on the brown hillside, One misty Autumn morn when Sun did hide

Of courteous Limozin wight, Gobertz, I will indite: From Poicebot had he his right

I thank all Gods that I can let thee go, Lady, without one thought, one base desire To tarnish that clear vision I gained by fire,

Oreithyia, by the North Wind carried To stormy Thrace from Athens where you tarried Down by Ilissus all a blowy day

When she had left us but a little while, I still could hear the ringing of her voice, Still see athwart the dusk her shy half-smile

That day--it was the last of many days, Nor could we know when such days might be given Again--we read how Dante trod the ways

The snow lies deep, ice-fringes hem the thatch; I knock my shoes, my Love lifts me the latch, Shows me her eyes--O frozen stars, they shine

When Spring blows o'er the land, and sunlight flies Across the hills, we take the upland way. I have her waist, the wooing wind her eyes

CHTHONO'    MYRTILLA RHODOPE    PASIPHASSA GORGO    SITYS

The blue night falleth, the moon Is over the hill; make fast, Fasten the latch, I am tired: come soon,

Mossy gray stands the House, four-square to the wind, Embosomed in the hills. The garden old Of yew and box and fishpond speaks her mind,

Breathless was she and would not have us part: "Adieu, my Saint," I said, "'tis come to this." But she leaned to me, one hand at her heart,

In June I brought her roses, and she cupt One slim bud in her hand and cherisht it, And put it to her mouth. Rose and she supt

Since green earth is awake Let us now pastime take, Not serving wantonness

I i O what is this you've done to me,

When winds blow high and leaves begin to fall, And the wan sunlight flits before the blast; When fields are brown and crops are garnered all,

I cannot add one tendril to your bays, Worn quietly where who love you sing your praise; But I may stand

Sun and Moon, shine upon me; Make glad my days and clear my nights! O Earth, whose child I am,

Sometimes the spirit that never leaves me quite Taps at my heart when thou art in the way, Saying, Now thy Queen cometh: therefore pray,