Poems

path slopes down, but separate and slow. Henceforward you and I alone must fare. Nay, look not all so sad! Was ever done A deed to merit all that we have won Of joy? I tell you, there are those whose prayer Is nightly 011 their knees that they might bear Our shadow, could they but have known our sun! THE NIXY 1 Hey brought her honey and milk, They brought her curds and wine, "But oh!" she cried, "for the river side, And the rushes that were mine!" They robed her body with silk, They filled her lap with gold, "But oh!" she prayed, "for the mossy shade, And the green depths, pure and cold!" They kissed her ankles for love, They worshiped at her eyes, "But oh!" she moaned, "for the flood, deep-toned, And the sweeping spray that flies!" They draped her chamber with black, They wept there at her bier, But her glad soul fled when her heart was dead, And flowed with the river clear. A JAPANESE FAN Is it so warm in old Japan? Do flowers flaunt out such riot glare? Hangs that soft, golden mist so low? Ah me, ah me, to journey there! Inked out against the yellow glow One sharp peak rises, blackly bare; A stately swan steers up the sky? Ah me, ah me, to journey there! And see her as she furls her fan! Was ever lady half so fair? She beckons to me with her eyes? Ah me, ah me, to journey there! Were ever feet so dainty small? Was ever coiled such shining hair? Her hands are like curled lil...