Volume Ii Part 46 (2/2)

For as these come and go, and quit our pine To follow the sweet season, or, new-corners, Sing one song only from our alder-trees, My heart has thoughts, which, though thine eyes hold mine.

Flit to the silent world and other summers, With wings that dip beyond the silver seas.

Alice Meynell [1853-1922]

AT NIGHT

Home, home from the horizon far and clear, Hither the soft wings sweep; Flocks of the memories of the day draw near The dovecote doors of sleep.

Oh which are they that come through sweetest light Of all these homing birds?

Which with the straightest and the swiftest flight?

Your words to me, your words!

Alice Meynell [1850-1922]

SONG

Song is so old, Love is so new-- Let me be still And kneel to you.

Let me be still And breathe no word, Save what my warm blood Sings unheard.

Let my warm blood Sing low of you-- Song is so fair, Love is so new!

Hermann Hagedorn [1882-

”ALL LAST NIGHT”

All last night I had quiet In a fragrant dream and warm: She had become my Sabbath, And round my neck, her arm.

I knew the warmth in my dreaming; The fragrance, I suppose, Was her hair about me, Or else she wore a rose.

Her hair, I think; for likest Woodruffe 'twas, when Spring Loitering down wet woodways Treads it sauntering.

No light, nor any speaking; Fragrant only and warm.

Enough to know my lodging, The white Sabbath of her arm.

Lascelles Abercrombie [1881-

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