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August

God in His own right hand doth take each day-
Each sun-filled day-each rare and radiant night,
And dropp it softly on the earth and say:
'Touch earth with heaven's own beauty and delight.'

Aubade

As I would free the white almond from the green husk
So I would strip your trappings off,
Beloved.
And fingering the smooth and polished kernel
I should see that in my hands glittered a gem beyond counting.

At Variance

When with me the play she goes,
I much admire the buds and bows
And all that on Kate’s headgear grows.
But when some other night I see
That hat between the stage and me,
My taste and Kate’s do not agree.