ows beautifully dim.
One hill will keep the footprints of the moon
That came and went a hushed and secret hour;
One star at dusk will yield the lasting boon:
Remembered beauty's white, immortal flower.

Who takes of Beauty wine and daily bread,
Will know no lack when bitter years are lean;
The brimming cup is by, the feast is spread;
The sun and moon and stars his eyes have seen,
Are for his hunger and the thirst he slakes:
The wine of Beauty and the bread he breaks.

RACONTEUR

The Earth remembers many, many things,
Kept of her pride, a rich and ancient lore,--
The fading footprints of her transient Springs,
Her nameless cities, and the stones they wore.
Anointed shrines that men had perished for,
And women who were music for their times,
These, and the world's long iliads of war,
Will haunt her heart like dear, remembered rhymes.

I have imagined how it might be so,
When Earth takes home this wandering dust again,
There may be stories I shall come to know,
Of tragic queens and towns and valiant men,--
Old honoured tales that Earth may tell to me,
As mothers do, for children at the knee.

AFFINITIES

Young girls love a slender birch,
Tall and blowing in the wind,
Silvered in the sun and rain,
And beautifully thinned.

Old men love an apple-tree
Twisted and gnarled as they;
But when new blossoms line the bough,
The old men look away.

TRANSFIGURATION

What old historic dust gives back the rose!
What crumbled empires yield the creeping vine!
And purple grapes have sucked a pleasant wine
From ramparts that had bowed to sudden blows.
Where now the unregarded river flows,
Old dissolute cities, their debauches done,
Lift up a slender blossom to the sun,
Steeped in the thoughtful silence where it grows.

Where Splendour was, no Splendour is today:
Ruin has wrought upon the crowns of kings,
Their throne-rooms all are green and tender things ...
And wonder dies,--save in the patient way
Of these slow transmutations in the dust:
Beauty from power, lilies out of lust.

ONE WAY OF SPRING

The Spring came to this street with spinning tops,
And marbles rolling where the yards were bare,
With parti-coloured bonnets in the shops,
And young girls' laughter on the sterile air.
T