Growl of the guns cannot shatter the dream of you,
Banish the thought of one exquisite hour,
Or the scent of your hair in the dawn, or the gleam of you
White as white roses through roses a-flower.
PARTING
Times more than once, all ways about the world,
Have I clasped hands; waved sorrowful good-bye;
Watched far cliffs fading, till my sea-wake swirled
To mingle bluely with a landless sky: