SUPERSTITES ROSÆ
The grass is green upon her grave,
The west wind whispers low;
“The corn is changed, came forth, come forth,
Ere all the blossoms go!”
The west wind whispers low;
“The corn is changed, came forth, come forth,
Ere all the blossoms go!”
In vain. Her laughing eyes are sealed,
And cold her sunny brow;
Last year she smiled upan the flowers—
They smile above her now!
And cold her sunny brow;
Last year she smiled upan the flowers—
They smile above her now!
SOUL FERRY
High and dry upon the shingle lies the fisher’s boat to-night;
From his roof-beam dankly drooping, raying phosphorescent light,
Spectral in its pale-blue splendour, hangs his heap of scaly nets,
And the fisher, lapt in slumber, surge and seine alike forgets.
From his roof-beam dankly drooping, raying phosphorescent light,
Spectral in its pale-blue splendour, hangs his heap of scaly nets,
And the fisher, lapt in slumber, surge and seine alike forgets.
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