Blows the wind to-day, and the sun and the rain are flying Evensong The embers of the day are red ADDITIONAL POEMS A Familiar Epistle Blame me not that this epistle Rondels 1. Far have you come, my lady, from the town 2. Nous n’irons plus au bois 3. Since I am sworn to live my life 4. Of his pitiable transformation Epistle to Charles Baxter Noo lyart leaves blaw ower the green The Susquehannah and the Delaware Of where or how, I nothing know Epistle to Albert Dew-Smith Figure me to yourself, I pray Alcaics to Horatio F. Brown Brave lads in olden musical centuries A Lytle Jape of Tusherie