to his rest
And remember in dreams, as the hand of the mother is prest
On his hair, how the Pitiful blessed him of old and smiled.

LOVE'S GHOST

I

Thy house is dark and still: I stand once more
Beside the marble door.
It opens as of old: thy pale, pale face
Peers thro' the narrow space:
Thy hands are mine, thy hands are mine to hold,
Just as of old.

II

"Hush! hush! or God will hear us! Ah, speak low
As Love spake long ago."
"Sweet, sweet, are these thine arms, thy breast, thy hair
Assuaging my despair,
Assuaging the long thirst, quenching the tears
Of all these years?

III

"Thy house is deep and still: God cannot hear;
Sweet, have no fear!
Are not thy cold lips crushed against my kiss?
Love gives us this,
Not God;" but "Ah," she moans, "God hears us; speak,
Speak low, hide cheek on cheek."

IV

Oh then what eager whisperings, hoarded long,
Sweeter than any song,
What treasured news to tell, what hopes, what fears,
Gleaned from the barren years,
What raptures wrung from out the heart of pain,
What wild farewells again!

V

Whose pity is this? Ah, quick, one kiss! Once more
Closes the marble door!
I grope here in the darkness all alone.
Across the cold white stone,
Over thy tomb, a sudden starlight gleams:
Death gave me this--in dreams.

ON A RAILWAY PLATFORM

A drizzle of drifting rain
And a blurred white lamp o'erhead,
That shines as my love will shine again
In the world of the dead.

Round me the wet black night,
And, afar in the limitless gloom,
Crimson and green, two blossoms of light,
Two stars of doom.

But the night of death is aflare
With a torch of back-blown fire,
And the coal-black deeps of the quivering air
Rend for my soul's desire.

Leap, heart, for the pulse and the roar
And the lights of the streaming train
That leaps with the heart of thy love once more
Out of the mist and the rain.

Out of the desolate years
The thundering pageant flows;
But I see no more than a window of tears
Which her face has turned to a rose.

OXFORD REVISITED

Changed and estranged, l