The grey road whereupon we trod became as holy ground: 
    The eve was all one voice that breathed its message with no sound: 
    And burning multitudes pour through my heart, too bright, too blind,
    Too swift and hurried in their flight to leave their tale behind. 
    Twin gates unto that living world, dark honey-coloured eyes
    The lifting of whose lashes flushed the face with paradise—­
    Beloved, there I saw within their ardent rays unfold
    The likeness of enraptured birds that flew from deeps of gold
    To deeps of gold within my breast to rest or there to be
    Transfigured in the light, or find a death to life in me. 
    So love, a burning multitude, a seraph wind which blows
    From out the deep of being to the deep of being goes: 
    And sun and moon and starry fires and earth and air and sea
    Are creatures from the deep let loose who pause in ecstasy,
    Or wing their wild and heavenly way until again they find
    The ancient deep and fade therein, enraptured, bright and blind.

REFLECTIONS

    How shallow is this mere that gleams! 
    Its depth of blue is from the skies;
    And from a distant sun the dreams
    And lovely light within your eyes.

    We deem our love so infinite
    Because the Lord is everywhere,
    And love awakening is made bright
    And bathed in that diviner air.

    We go on our enchanted way
    And deem our hours immortal hours,
    Who are but shadow kings that play
    With mirrored majesties and powers.

THE DAWN OF DARKNESS

    Come earth’s little children pit-pat from their burrows on the hill;
    Hangs within the gloom its weary head the shining daffodil. 
    In the valley underneath us through the fragrance flit along
    Over fields and over hedgerows little quivering drops of song. 
    All adown the pale blue mantle of the mountains far away
    Stream the tresses of the twilight flying in the wake of day. 
    Night comes; soon alone shall fancy follow sadly in her flight
    Where the fiery dust of evening, shaken from the feet of light,
    Thrusts its monstrous barriers between the pure, the good, the true,
    That our weeping eyes may strain for, but shall never after view. 
    Only yester eve I watched with heart at rest the nebulae
    Looming far within the shadowy shining of the Milky Way;
    Finding in the stillness joy and hope for all the sons of men;
    Now what silent anguish fills a night more beautiful than then. 
    For earth’s age of pain has come, and all her sister planets weep,
    Thinking of her fires of morning passing into dreamless sleep. 
    In this cycle of great sorrow for the moments that we last
    We too shall be linked by weeping to the greatness of her past: 
    But the coming race shall know not, and the fount of tears shall dry,
    And the arid heart of man be arid as the desert sky. 
    So within my mind the darkness dawned and round me everywhere
    Hope departed with the twilight, leaving only dumb despair.