The full-orbed Paschal moon; dark shadows flung On the brown Lenten earth; tall spectral trees Stand in their huge and naked strength erect, And stretch wild arms towards the gleaming sky....
I stood upon a hill, and watched the death Of the day's turmoil. Still the glory spread Cloud-top to cloud-top, and each rearing head Trembled to crimson. So a mighty breath...
"Pourquoi," she breathed, then drooped her head, (Pure snow-drifts to the sunset wed) As all my weakness I confessed. I shewed how I had done my best, Though long ago I should have fled,...
The world may rage without, Quiet is here; Statesmen may toil and shout, Cynics may sneer; The great world, - let it go, - June warmth be March's snow, I care not, - be it so Since I am here....