Works

In the midst of Life we are in Death.


What is it that has stilled the usual hurry,
Checking the eager tread of rapid feet?
Why does the business face look sad and sorry...

Dear Jane you say you will gather flowers
To win if you may a verse from me
Can you bring to me those brillant hours
When life was gladdened by poesy?

Bring me the rose with pearls on her breast,...