d of Life he took:
But the summer flowers were falling,
Falling and fading away,
And mother birds were calling,
Crying and calling
For their loves that would not stay.

He knew not Autumn's chillness,
Nor Winter's wind nor Spring's.
He lived with Summer's stillness
And sun and sunlit things:
But when the dusk was falling
He went the shadowy way,
And one more heart is calling,
Crying and calling
For the love that would not stay.

From Generation To Generation

O Son of mine, when dusk shall find thee bending
Between a gravestone and a cradle's head---
Between the love whose name is loss unending
And the young love whose thoughts are liker dread,---
Thou too shalt groan at heart that all thy spending
Cannot repay the dead, the hungry dead.

When I Remember

When I remember that the day will come
For this our love to quit his land of birth,
And bid farewell to all the ways of earth
With lips that must for evermore be dumb,

Then creep I silent from the stirring hum,
And shut away the music and the mirth,
And reckon up what may be left of worth
When hearts are cold and love's own body numb.

Something there must be that I know not here,
Or know too dimly through the symbol dear;
Some touch, some beauty, only guessed by this---
If He that made us loves, it shall replace,
Beloved, even the vision of thy face
And deep communion of thine inmost kiss.

Rondel*

Though I wander far-off ways,
Dearest, never doubt thou me:

Mine is not the love that strays,
Though I wander far-off ways:

Faithfully for all my days
I have vowed myself to thee:
Though I wander far-off ways,
Dearest, never doubt thou me.

* This and the two following pieces are from
the French of Wenceslas, Duke of Brabant and
Luxembourg, who died in 1384.

Rondel

Long ago to thee I gave
Body, soul, and all I have---
Nothing in the world I keep:

All that in return I crave
Is that thou accept the slave
Long ago to thee I gave---
Body, soul, and all I have.

Had I more to share or save,
I would give as give the brave,
Stooping not to part the heap;
Long ago to thee I gave
Body, soul, and all I have---
Nothing in the world I keep.

Balade

I cannot tell, of twain beneath this bond,
Which one in grief the other goes beyond,---
Narcissus, who to end the pain he bore
Died of the love that could not help him more;
Or I, that pine becaus