These be
Three silent things:
The falling snow . . . the hour
Before the dawn . . . the mouth of one
Just dead.
SNOW
Look up . . .
From bleakening hills
Blows down the light, first breath
Of wintry wind . . . look up, and scent
The snow!
ANGUISH
Keep thou
Thy tearless watch
All night but when blue-dawn
Breathes on the silver moon, then weep!
Then weep!
TRAPPED
Well and
If day on day
Follows, and weary year
On year . . . and ever days and years . . .
Well?
MOON-SHADOWS
Still as
On windless nights
The moon-cast shadows are,
So still will be my heart when I
Am dead.