n drops of Heavenly dew;

Nor fail him ever but a cloud unceasing
Of incense from his soul's hushed altar start,
And still return to rise with rich increasing,
A well-spring from his heart;
Pure fount of peace that freshly overflowing
Through other lives shall still run radiant on,
Till they, too, reap in joy who wept in sowing,
Long after he is gone.

DE PROFUNDIS

Out of the darkness I call;
I stretch forth my hands unto Thee.
Loose these fetters that foully enthral;
To their lock Thou alone hast the key.
Low at Thy footstool I fall,
Forgive and Thy servant is free!

Folly took hold of my time,
On pleasure I perched, to my woe;
I was snared in The Evil One's lime
And now all his promptings I know.
Crimson as blood is my crime.
Yet Thou canst wash whiter than snow.

Heaven overhead is one frown;
About me the black waters rave;
To the deep I go dreadfully down;
O pluck my feet out of the grave;
Lord! I am sinking, I drown,
O save, for Thou only canst save.

IMMORTAL HOPE

Summer hath too short a date
Autumn enters, ah! how soon,
Scattering with scornful hate
All the flowers of June.
Nay say not so,
Nothing here below
But dies
To rise
Anew with rarer glow.

Now, no skylarks singing soar
Sunward, now, beneath the moon
Love's own nightingale no more
Lifts her magic tune!
Nay, say not so,
But awhile they go;
Their strain
Again
All heaven shall overflow.

WE HAD A CHILD

We had a child, a little Fairy Prince,
Let loose from Elfland for our heart's delight;
Ah! was it yesterday or four years since
He beamed upon our sight?
Four years--and yet it seems but yesterday
Since the blue wonder of his baby eyes.
Beneath their ebon-fringed canopies,
Subdued us to his sway.

Three years--and yet but yestermorn it seems
Since first upon his feet he swaying stood,
Buoyed bravely up by memory's magic dreams
Of elfin hardihood.
He stood, the while that long-forgotten lore
Lit all his lovely face with frolic glee;
And then--O marvel! to his mother's knee
Walked the wide nursery floor.

Two years gone by--ah, no! but yesterday
Our bright-eyed nursling, swift as we could teach,
Forsook the low soft croonings of the fay
For broken human speech--
Broken, yet to our ears divine