In the moon as I turned it,

And then it was gone.
One bright stray jewel -

What made it stray?
Was I cold or cruel,

At the close of day?
Oh, do not cry, lass!

What is crying worth?
There is no lass like my lass

In the whole wide earth.
A LOVER'S CONFESSION

When people tell me they have loved
But once in youth,

I wonder, are they always moved
To speak the truth?

Not that they wilfully deceive:
They fondlycherish

A constancy which they would grieve
To think might perish.

They cherish it until they think
`Twas always theirs.

So, if the truth they sometimes blink,
`Tis unawares.

Yet unawares, I must profess,
They do deceive

Themselves, and those who questionless
Their tale believe.

For I have loved, I freely own,
A score of times,

And woven, out of love alone,
A hundred rhymes.

Boys will be fickle. Yet, when all
Is said and done,

I was not one whom you could call
A flirt--not one

Of those who into three or four
Their hearts divide.

My queens came singly to the door,
Not side by side.

Each, while she reigned, possessed alone
My spirit loyal,

Then left an undisputed throne
To one more royal,

To one more fair in form and face
Sweeter and stronger,

Who filled the throne with truer grace,
And filled it longer.

So, love by love, they came and passed,
These loves of mine,

And each one brighter than the last
Their lights did shine.

Until--but am I not too free,
Most courteous stranger,

With secrets which belong to me?
There is a danger.

Until, I say, the perfect love,
The last, the best,

Like flame descending from above,
Kindled my breast,

Kindled my breast like ardent flame,
With quenchless glow.

I knew not love until it came,
But now I know.

You smile. The twenty loves before
Were each in turn,

You say, the final flame that o'er
My soul should burn.

Smile on, my friend. I will not say
You have no reason;

But if the love I feel to-day
Depart, `tis treason!

If this depart, not once again
Will I on paper

Declare the loves that waste and wane,
Like some poor taper.

No, no! This flame, I cannot doubt,
Despite your laughter,

Will burn till Death shall put it out,
And may be after.

TRAFALGAR SQUARE
These verses have I pilfered like a bee

Out of a letter from my C. C. C.
In London, showing what befell him there,

With other things, of interest to me.
One page described a night in open air

He spent last summer in Trafalgar Square,
With men and women who by want are driven

Thither for lodging, when the nights are fair.
No roof there is between their heads and heaven,

No warmth but what by ragged clothes is given,
No comfort but the company of those

Who with despair, like them, have vainly striven.
On benches there uneasily they doze,

Snatching brief morsels of a poor repose,
And if through weariness they might sleep sound,

Their eyes must open almost ere they close.
With even tramp upon the paven ground,

Twice every hour the night patrol comes round
To clear these wretches off, who may not keep

The miserable couches they have found.
Yet the stern shepherds of the poor black sheep

Will soften when they see a woman weep.
There was a mother there who strove in vain,

With sobs, to hush a starving child to sleep.
And through the night which took so long to wane,

He saw sad sufferers relieving pain,
And daughters of iniquity and scorn

Performing deeds which God will not disdain.
There was a girl, forlorn of the forlorn,

Whose dress was white, but draggled, soiled, and torn,
Who wandered like a ghost without a home.

She spoke to him before the day was born.
She, who all night, when spoken to, was dumb,

Earning dislike from most, abuse from some,
Now asked the hour, and when he told her `Two,'

Wailed, `O my God, will daylight never come?'
Yes, it will come, and change the sky anew

From star-besprinkled black to sunlit blue,
And bring sweet thoughts and innocent desires

To countless girls. What will it bring to you?
A SUMMER MORNING

Never was sun so bright before,
No matin of the lark so sweet,

No grass so green beneath my feet,
Nor with such dewdrops jewelled o'er.

I stand with thee outside the door,
The air not yet is close with heat,

And far across the yellowing wheat
The waves are breaking on the shore.

A lovely day! Yet many such,
Each like to each, this month have passed,

And none did so supremely shine.
One thing they lacked: the perfect touch

Of thee--and thou art come at last,
And half this loveliness is thine.

WELCOME HOME
The fire burns bright

And the hearth is clean swept,
As she likes it kept,

And the lamp is alight.
She is coming to-night.

The wind's east of late.
When she comes, she'll be cold,

So the big chair is rolled
Close up to the grate,

And I listen and wait.
The shutters are fast,

And the red curtains hide
Every hint of outside.

But hark, how the blast
Whistled then as it passed!

Or was it the train?
How long shall I stand,

With my watch in my hand,
And listen in vain

For the wheels in the lane?
Hark! A rumble I hear

(Will the wind not be still?),
And it comes down the hill,

And it grows on the ear,
And now it is near.

Quick, a fresh log to burn!
Run and open the door,

Hold a lamp out before
To light up the turn,

And bring in the urn.
You are come, then, at last!

O my dear, is it you?
I can scarce think it true

I am holding you fast,
And sorrow is past.

AN INVITATION
Dear Ritchie, I am waiting for the signal word to fly,

And tell me that the visit which has suffered such belating
Is to be a thing of now, and no more of by-and-by.

Dear Ritchie, I am waiting.
The sea is at its bluest, and the Spring is new creating

The woods and dens we know of, and the fields rejoicing lie,
And the air is soft as summer, and the hedge-birds all are mating.

The Links are full of larks' nests, and the larks possess the sky,
Like a choir of happy spirits, melodiously debating,

All is ready for your coming, dear Ritchie--yes, and I,
Dear Ritchie, I am waiting.

FICKLE SUMMER
Fickle Summer's fled away,

Shall we see her face again?
Hearken to the weeping rain,

Never sunbeam greets the day.
More inconstant than the May,

She cares nothing for our pain,
Nor will hear the birds complain

In their bowers that once were gay.
Summer, Summer, come once more,

Drive the shadows from the field,
All thy radiance round thee fling,

Be our lady as of yore;
Then the earth her fruits shall yield,

Then the morning stars shall sing.
SORROW'S TREACHERY

I made a truce last night with Sorrow,
The queen of tears, the foe of sleep,

• freely [´fri:li] ad.自由地；慷慨地 (初中英语单词)
• warmth [wɔ:mθ] n.温暖；热情；激动 (初中英语单词)
• despair [di´speə] vi.&n.绝望 (初中英语单词)
• miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
• soften [´sɔfən] v.使(变)软(柔和) (初中英语单词)
• spoken [´spəukən] speak的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
• dislike [dis´laik] vt.&n.不喜爱，厌恶 (初中英语单词)
• daylight [´deilait] n.日光；黎明 (初中英语单词)
• innocent [´inəsənt] a.无罪的；单纯的 (初中英语单词)
• scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
• waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
• cherish [´tʃeriʃ] vt.珍爱；怀有(感情) (高中英语单词)
• throne [θrəun] n.宝座；王位 (高中英语单词)
• courteous [´kə:tiəs] a.有礼貌的；殷勤的 (高中英语单词)
• lodging [´lɔdʒiŋ] n.寄宿，住宿 (高中英语单词)
• ragged [´rægid] a.衣服破烂的 (高中英语单词)
• vainly [´veinli] ad.虚荣地；自负地 (高中英语单词)
• strove [strəuv] strive的过去式 (高中英语单词)
• forlorn [fə´lɔ:n] a.被遗弃的；绝望的 (高中英语单词)
• countless [´kauntlis] a.无数的 (高中英语单词)
• hearth [hɑ:θ] n.炉边；家庭(生活) (高中英语单词)
• rumble [´rʌmbəl] v.(使)隆隆响 n.隆隆声 (高中英语单词)
• rejoicing [ri´dʒɔisiŋ] n.高兴；欢呼 (高中英语单词)
• sunbeam [´sʌnbi:m] n.日光 (高中英语单词)
• fondly [´fɔndli] ad.喜爱地；愚蠢地 (英语四级单词)
• ardent [´ɑ:dənt] a.热心的；热情洋溢的 (英语四级单词)
• befell [bi´fel] befall的过去式 (英语四级单词)
• weariness [wiərinis] n.疲倦；厌烦 (英语四级单词)
• patrol [pə´trəul] n.巡逻 v.巡逻(查) (英语四级单词)
• loveliness [´lʌvlinis] n.美丽，可爱 (英语四级单词)
• radiance [´reidjəns] n.发光；光彩；辐射 (英语四级单词)
• constancy [´kɔnstənsi] n.坚定；坚贞；坚久不变 (英语六级单词)
• fickle [´fikəl] a.轻浮的；多变的 (英语六级单词)
• uneasily [ʌn´i:zili] ad.不安地；局促地 (英语六级单词)
• iniquity [i´nikwiti] n.不公正；邪恶 (英语六级单词)
• holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
• weeping [´wi:piŋ] a.&n.哭泣(的) (英语六级单词)