Chapter I: LIE on my pallet bed,

And I hear the drip of the rain; The rain on my garret roof is falling, And I am cold and in pain.

I lie on my pallet bed,
And my heart is wild with delight;
I hear her voice through the midnight calling,
As I lie awake in the night.

I lie on my pallet bed,
And I see her bright eyes gleam;
She smiles, she speaks, and the world is ended,
And made again in a dream.

MUSIC AND MEMORY.

To K.W.

ACROSS the tides of music, in the night, Her magical face, A light upon it as the happy light Of dreams in some delicious place Under the moonlight in the night.

Music, soft throbbing music in the night, Her memory swims Into the brain, a carol of delight; The cup of music overbrims With wine of memory, in the night.

Her face across the music, in the night, Her face a refrain, A light that sings along the waves of light, A memory that returns again, Music in music, in the night.

SPRING TWILIGHT.

To K. W.

THE twilight droops across the day,
I watch her portrait on the wall
Palely recede into the grey
That palely comes and covers all.

The sad Spring twilight, dull, forlorn,
The menace of the dreary night:
But in her face, more fair than morn,
A sweet suspension of delight.

IN WINTER.

PALE from the watery west, with the pallor of winter a-cold, Rays of the afternoon sun in a glimmer across the trees; Glittering moist underfoot, the long alley. The firs, one by one, Catch and conceal, as I saunter, and flash in a dazzle of gold Lower and lower the vanishing disc: and the sun alone sees At I wait for my love in the fir-tree alley alone with the sun.

QUEST.