Another day of rest, and I sit here
Among the trees, green mounds, and leaves as sere
As my own blasted hopes. There was a time
When Love and perfect Happiness did chime
Like two sweet sounds upon this blessed day;
But one has flown forever, far away
From this poor Earth's unsatisfied desires
To love eternal, and the sacred fires
With which the other lighted up my mind
Have faded out and left no trace behind,
But dust and bitter ashes. Like a bark
Becalmed, I anchor through the midnight dark,
Still hoping for another dawn of Love.

Twin stars, aloft in ether clear,
Around each other roll alway,
Within one common atmosphere
Of their own mutual light and day.

And myriad happy eyes are bent
Upon their changeless love alway;
As, strengthened by their one intent,
They pour the flood of life and day.

So we through this world's waning night
May, hand in hand, pursue our way;
Shed round us order, love, and light,
And shine unto the perfect day.

I've learned how
men and women love
Osaka style.

Thy face, with drowsy eyes
That dream the dawn of love—
Thy yellow hair above—
The exquisite surprise
Of head so naiad-bright—
How beautiful the sight!

Sweet music fills my ears,
The dance is all around,
Amidst the light and sound
Thy voice my spirit hears,
Sweeter than any tune
Of viol and bassoon.

It is the light divine
Of love within our hearts
That gives us dreams—that parts
From the world thy soul and mine;
That almost maketh me,
Helen, to worship thee.

O, lovely Fal, whose wooded banks
To thy fair self give wondrous grace,
Of thee, loved stream, I fain would speak,
And having power, thy path would trace,
As flowing onward day by day,
Gently thou glidest on thy way.

Thou, changing ever, yet the same
To me, whose memory loves to rove
Along thy winding silvery course;
Around thy path I oft have wove
Sweet thoughts of pleasures past and gone,
When Love's fair sunlight o'er me shone.

As I, in frail and simple craft,
Down on thy heaving breast did glide;
In the glad transport of those hours

I ask your pardon that your pain
Should be so quick your lover's gain.
But when I know your love's distress,
My heart leaps high with happiness.
It sends kind tincture to my lips,
I walk with a new rhythm from the hips.

Eyes that are black like bramble-berries
That lustre with light the rank hedgerows
Are kindly eyes and within them there is
Love of the land where the bramble grows.

But mine are blue as a far-off distance
And grey as the water beneath the sea;
Therefore they look with a long insistence
For things that are not and cannot be.

There's mony a man loves land and life,
Loves life and land and fee;
And mony a man loves fair women,
But never a man loves me, my love,
But never a man loves me.

O weel and weel for a' lovers,
I wot weel may they be;
And weel and weel for a' fair maidens,
But aye mair woe for me, my love,
But aye mair woe for me.

O weel be wi' you, ye sma' flowers,
Ye flowers and every tree;
And weel be wi' you, a' birdies,
But teen and tears wi' me, my love,
But teen and tears wi' me.

O weel be yours, my three brethren,

A WIFELESS grave, a childless funeral
Are sadly yielded to the silvered head.
The tomb looks darker for the unloved dead
To those unwitting ones who bear his pall.
They err in pity, not accounting all
The lights on lonely pathways overshed.
Ev'n I, the loneliest man of men unwed,
Have large sweet hopes of meetings to befall.
Here with a hand upon the latch of death
I thank God humbly, thinking, through this gate
Passed Edith purely; happy Marion stands
A little way within in heaven's mild breath,
With loving Mary whom I knew too late,

The stars are waiting till our hearts are wise;
They glow and throb, all vibrant with the thought
That some day we, beholding with clear eyes
The deep celestial splendour of the skies,
Shall know all beauty out of love was wrought.