Augusta Davies Webster

VE is dying.
Why then, let it die.
Trample it down, that it die more fast.
What is a rose that has lost its bloom?

ST, this one day we own,
Stolen from the crowd and press,
Let it be sweet silence's.
We two, heart in heart, alone;

Young laughters, and my music!
Aye till now The voice can reach no blending minors near; 'Tis the bird's trill because the spring is here And spring means trilling on a blossomy bough; 'Tis the spring joy that has no why or how,
But…

No, mother,
I am not sad:
Why think me sad?
I was always still

I
ET a lily long ago;
I watched it whiten in the sun;
I loved it well

Seeds with wings, between earth and
Fluttering, flying;
Seeds of a lily with blood-red core
Breathing of myrrh and of giroflore:

Wild wintry wind, storm through the night,
Dash the black clouds against the sky,
Hiss through the billows seething white,
Fling the rock-surf in spray on high.

RK the sky-lark in the cloud,
Hark the cricket in the grass,
Trilling blitheness clear and loud,
Chirping glee to all who pass.

HY did the star leave the sky,
The far, pure sky?
Shone she not high and hallowed and fair?
Could she not tarry her life-time there?

TE rose sighed in the morn,
Red rose laughed in the noon,
And "Sweetest sweetness is ended soon,"And "Never heed for the thorn.""Love's hour passes away,"
White rose breathed in my ear;

AR love, good-night.
And, tender sleep,
Seal up her lids like these drowsed flowers,
To make day fair when they unclose.

No not to-night, dear child;
I cannot go;
I'm busy, tired; they knew I should not come; you do not need me there.
Dear, be content, and take your pleasure; you shall tell me of it.

Spring Stornelli.
HE
ET.
OH clear smooth rivulet, creeping through our bridge

She has made me wayside posies: here they stand,
Bringing fresh memories of where they grew.
As new-come travellers from a world we knew Wake every while some image of their land,
So these whose buds our woodland breezes fanned…

LL: we two shall still meet day by day,
Live side by side;
But never more shall heart respond to heart.
Two stranger boats can drift adown one tide

Dead is he?
Yes, our stranger guest said dead— said it by noonday, when it seemed a thing most natural and so indifferent as if the tale ran that a while ago there died a man I talked with a chance hour when he by chance was near me.
If…

Joy that's half too keen, and true,
Makes us tears.
Oh! the sweetness of the tears!
If such joy at hand appears

OT by her grave: thither I bid them take
Fresh garlands of the flowers that pleased her best,
And lay them by the headstone, for my sake,
My token and remembrance with the rest:

If I should die this night, (as well might be,
So pain has on my weakness worked its will),
And they should come at morn and look on me
Lying more white than I am wont, and still

Alas,
I thought this forest must be true,
And would not change because of my changed eyes;
I thought the growing things were as I knew

IN the world was one green nook I knew,
Full of roses, roses red and white,
Reddest roses summer ever grew,
Whitest roses ever pearled with dew;

'Tis men who say that through all hurt and pain The woman's love, wife's, mother's, still will hold,
And breathes the sweeter and will more unfold For winds that tear it, and the sorrowful rain.
So in a thousand voices has the strain Of…

There came a child into the solemn hall where great Pope Innocent sat throned and heard angry disputings on Free-Will in man,
Grace,
Purity, and the Pelagian creed— an ignorantly bold poor child, who stood shewing his rags before the…

The brook leaps riotous with its life just found,
That freshets from the mountain rains have fed,
Beats at the boulders in its hindered bed,
And fills the valley with its triumphing sound.