So delicately fair she moved—
That stream-like girl, of all beloved.
Along her path no grief nor care
But lulled and lightened unaware.
She bore the sky within her breast,
And child-like winds her soul caressed,
Until her spring of life was dried,
And with a smile Philippa died.
The Student
THE student sits within his room,
So small and worn and white;
His lamp flames out remote and strange
Through all the hours of night.
And all day long within his face,
So small and worn and white,
His eyes flame out—those lamp-like eyes,
So weirdly, strangely bright.
Unspoken
MY lover comes down the long leafy street
Through tenderly falling rain;
His footsteps near our portal veer,
Go past—then turn again.
O can it be he is knocking below,
Or here at my door above?
So gentle and small it sounds in the hall,
So loud in the ear of love.
But never a word of love has he said,
And never a word crave I,
For why should one long for the daylight strong
When the dawn is in the sky?