iven your mortal eyes to see,
That might have been your darling yet;
But in the place
Of her strange face
Sorrow will stand forever more,
And Sorrow's hand be on your brow,
And vainly you shall watch the door
For her so lightly with you now,
And all the world be as before.
Ah; Spring shall sing and Summer bloom,
And flowers fill Life's empty room,
And all the singers sing in vain,
Nor bring you back your flower again.

O have a care!--for this is all:
Let not your magic blossom fall.

BALLADE OF LOVE'S CLOISTER

Had I the gold that some so vainly spend,
For my lost loves a temple would I raise,
A shrine for each dear name: there should ascend
Incense for ever, and hymns of golden praise;
And I would live the remnant of my days,
Where hallowed windows cast their painted gleams,
At prayer before each consecrated face,
Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.

And each fair altar, like a priest, I'd tend,
Trimming the tapers to a constant blaze,
And to each lovely and beloved friend
Garlands I'd bring, and virginal soft sprays
From April's bodice, and moon-breasted May's,
And there should be a sound for ever of streams
And birds 'mid happy leaves in that still place,--
Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.

O'er missals of hushed memories would I bend,
And thrilling scripts of bosom-scented phrase,
Telling of love that never hath an end,
And sacred relics of wonder-working grace,
Strands of bright hair, and tender webs of lace,
Press to my lips--until the Present seems
The Past again to my ensorcelled gaze,--
Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.

ENVOI

Princesses unforgot, your lover lays
His heart upon your altars, and he deems
He treads again the fair love-haunted ways--
Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.

AN OLD LOVE LETTER

I was reading a letter of yours to-day,
The date--O a thousand years ago!
The postmark is there--the month was May:
How, in God's name, did I let you go?
What wonderful things for a girl to say!
And to think that I hadn't the sense to know--
What wonderful things for a man to hear!
O still beloved, O still most dear.

"Duty" I called it, and hugged the word
Close to my side, like a shirt of hair;
You laughed, I remember, laughed like a bird,
And somehow I thought th