In that hushed dream upon the height

We lived, and then we rose to part,

Because her ways are infinite.

A PRAYER

O, holy Spirit of the Hazel, hearken now,

Though shining suns and silver moons burn on the bough,

And though the fruit of stars by many myriads gleam,

Yet in the undergrowth below, still in thy dream,

Lighting the labyrinthine maze and monstrous gloom

Are many gem-winged flowers with gay and delicate bloom;

And in the shade, hearken, O Dreamer of the Tree,

One wild rose blossom of thy spirit breathed on me

[19]

With lovely and still light, a little sister flower

To those that whitely on the tall moon branches tower,

Lord of the Hazel now, oh hearken while I pray,

This wild rose blossom of thy spirit fades away.

THE HEROES

By many a dream of God and man my thoughts in shining flocks were led:

But as I went through Patrick Street the hopes and prophecies were dead.

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