The Return

She gave me tears,
A rain to wash the dust of years,
A silence for disharmony,
For jagged wounds a remedy,
Green windy down for fœtid towns,
For slums sweet-scented closes,
And for the thorn of her blest scorn
I gave her thorny roses.

New Year's Eve

Speak to the Wind and bid him stay,
Lest that within find out a way.

Call to the Sea to hush his wail,
That is failing which must not fail.

Cry to Time as he goes by,
That is dying which cannot die.

The Greek Spirit

Scarce has the agued chill of Gallomania left us,
Than in a feverish heat blind Grecomania comes.
What did Greekism mean? Intelligence, easy Proportion!
Then, good sirs, I beg, let Grecomania lie!
Worthy the cause ye espouse; but pray pursue it in reason,
Lest to derision it lead, and to derision alone.

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