Falls, dear, on my wild heart,
And takes thy part.

Thou art the child, and I--how steeped in age!
A blotted page
From that clear, little book life's taken away:
How could I read it, dear, so dark the day?
Be it all memory
'Twixt thee and me!

* * * * *




THE LISTENERS: 1914


* * * * *




THE THREE CHERRY TREES


There were three cherry trees once,
Grew in a garden all shady;
And there for delight of so gladsome a sight,
Walked a most beautiful lady,