Of the forlorn

Whose days went sighing

Ever for Beauty

That ever fled?

Ever for Light

That never kindled?

Ever for Song

No lips have sung?

Ever for Joy

That ever dwindled?

Ever for Love that stung?

[Pg 24]

[Pg 24]

A VISION OF VENUS AND ADONIS

I know not where it was I saw them sit,

For in my dreams I had outwandered far

That endless wanderer men call the sea—

Whose winds like incantations wrap the world

And help the moon in her high mysteries.

I know not how it was that I was led

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