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THE MARBLE TABLET

       THE MASTER AND THE LEAVES

       LAST WORDS TO A DUMB FRIEND

       A DRIZZLING EASTER MORNING

       ON ONE WHO LIVED AND DIED WHERE HE WAS BORN

       THE SECOND NIGHT (BALLAD)

       SHE WHO SAW NOT

       THE OLD WORKMAN

       THE SAILOR’S MOTHER

       OUTSIDE THE CASEMENT (A REMINISCENCE OF THE WAR)

       THE PASSER-BY (L. H. RECALLS HER ROMANCE)

       “I WAS THE MIDMOST”

       A SOUND IN THE NIGHT (WOODSFORD CASTLE: 17–)

       ON A DISCOVERED CURL OF HAIR

       AN OLD LIKENESS (RECALLING R. T.)

       HER APOTHEOSIS “Secretum meum mihi” (FADED WOMAN’S SONG)

       “SACRED TO THE MEMORY” (MARY H.)

       TO A WELL-NAMED DWELLING

       THE WHIPPER-IN

       A MILITARY APPOINTMENT (SCHERZANDO)

       THE MILESTONE BY THE RABBIT-BURROW (ON YELL’HAM HILL)

       THE LAMENT OF THE LOOKING-GLASS

       CROSS-CURRENTS

       THE OLD NEIGHBOUR AND THE NEW

       THE CHOSEN

       THE INSCRIPTION (A TALE)

       THE MARBLE-STREETED TOWN

       A WOMAN DRIVING

       A WOMAN’S TRUST

       BEST TIMES

       THE CASUAL ACQUAINTANCE

       INTRA SEPULCHRUM

       THE WHITEWASHED WALL

       JUST THE SAME

       THE LAST TIME

       THE SEVEN TIMES

       THE SUN’S LAST LOOK ON THE COUNTRY GIRL (M. H.)

       IN A LONDON FLAT

       DRAWING DETAILS IN AN OLD CHURCH

       RAKE-HELL MUSES

       THE COLOUR

       MURMURS IN THE GLOOM (NOCTURNE)

       EPITAPH

       AN ANCIENT TO ANCIENTS

       AFTER READING PSALMS XXXIX., XL., ETC.

       SURVIEW “Cogitavi vias meas”

WEATHERS

       Table of Contents

      I

      This is the weather the cuckoo likes,

       And so do I;

       When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,

       And nestlings fly:

       And the little brown nightingale bills his best,

       And they sit outside at “The Travellers’ Rest,”

       And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,

       And citizens dream of the south and west,

       And so do I.

      II

      This is the weather the shepherd shuns,

       And so do I;

       When beeches drip in browns and duns,

       And thresh, and ply;

       And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,

       And meadow rivulets overflow,

       And drops on gate-bars hang in a row,

       And rooks in families homeward go,

       And so do I.

THE MAID OF KEINTON MANDEVILLE

       (A TRIBUTE TO SIR

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