Category: Poetry
_Ask me not how they came_, _These songs of love and death_, _These dreams of a futile stage_, _These thumb-nails seen in the street_: _Ask me not how nor why_, _But take them for your own_, _Dear Wife of twenty years_, _Knowing_--_O_, _who so well_?-- _You it was made the man...
_Ask me not how they came_, _These songs of love and death_, _These dreams of a futile stage_, _These thumb-nails seen in the street_: _Ask me not how nor why_, _But take them f...
2. Chapter 2When, in what other life, Where in what old, spent star, Systems ago, dead vastitudes afar, Were we two bird and bough, or man and wife? Or wave and spar? Or I the beating sea,...
3. Chapter 3The day's high work is over and done, And these no more will need the sun: Blow, you bugles of _ENGLAND_, blow! These are gone whither all must go, Mightily gone from the field...