n a summer's afternoon;
'Twill breathe no more beneath the moon.

I woke, warmed 'neath a foreign sky
Where locust blossoms bud and die,
Strange birds called to me flashing by.

And dusky faces passed and woke
The echoes with the words they spoke--
--The same old tales as other folk.

A truce to roaming! Never more
I'll leave the home I loved of yore.
But strangers meet me at the door.

* * * * *

I left my home still travelling,
For yet I hear the strange birds sing,
And foreign flowers rare perfumes bring.

I hear a distant voice, more wise
Than others are 'neath foreign skies.
I'll find--perhaps in paradise.

THE BALLAD OF THE FAIRY THORN-TREE

This is an evil night to go, my sister,
To the fairy-tree across the fairy rath,
Will you not wait till Hallow Eve is over?
For many are the dangers in your path!

I may not wait till Hallow Eve is over,
I shall be there before the night is fled,
For, brother, I am weary for my lover,
And I must see him once, alive or dead.

I've prayed to heaven, but it would not listen,
I'll call thrice in the devil's name to-night,
Be it a live man that shall come to hear me,
Or but a corpse, all clad in snowy white.

* * * * *

She had drawn on her silken hose and garter,
Her crimson petticoat was kilted high,
She trod her way amid the bog and brambles,
Until the fairy-tree she stood near-by.

When first she cried the devil's name so loudly
She listened, but she heard no sound at all;
When twice she cried, she thought from out the darkness
She heard the echo of a light footfall.

When last she cried her voice came in a whisper,
She trembled in her loneliness and fright;
Before her stood a shrouded, mighty figure,
In sombre garments blacker than the night.

"And if you be my own true love," she questioned,
"I fear you! Speak you quickly unto me."
"_O_, _I am not your own true love_," it answered,
"_He drifts without a grave upon the sea_."

"If he be dead, then gladly will I follow
Down the black stairs of death into the grave."
"_Your lover calls you for a place to rest him_
_From the eternal tossing of the wave_."

"I'll make my love a bed both wide and hollow,
A grave wherein we bo