Friend, sursum corda, soon or slow
We part, like guests who've joyed their fill;
Forget them not, nor mourn them so,
The ghosts we all can raise at will!



LOVE'S EASTER--SONNET



Love died here
Long ago; -
O'er his bier,
Lying low,
Poppies throw;
Shed no tear;
Year by year,
Roses blow!

Year by year,
Adon--dear
To Love's Queen -
Does not die!
Wakes when green
May is nigh!



BALLADE OF THE GIRTON GIRL