The softly stealing echo comes again From crowds of men whom, wearily, he shuns; And many see you thereso his thought runs And tenderest memories are pierced with pain. THE BRIDE Call me, Beloved! Call aloud to me! Thy bride her vigil at the window keeps; The evening wanes to dusk, the dimness creeps Down empty alleys of the old plane-tree. O! Let thy voice enfold me close about, Or from this dark house, lonely and remote, Through deep blue gardens where gray shadows oat I will pour forth my soul with hands stretched out ...

AUTUMNAL DAY Lord! It is time. So great was Summer's glow: Thy shadows lay upon the dials' faces And o'er wide spaces let thy tempests blow. Command to ripen the last fruits of thine, Give to them two more burning days and press The last sweetness into the heavy wine. He who has now no house will ne'er build one, Who is alone will now remain alone; He will awake, will read, will letters write Through the long day and in the lonely night; And restless, solitary, he will rove Where the leaves rustle, wind-blown, in the grove. MOONLIGHT NIGHT South-German night! the ripe moon hangs above Weaving enchantment o'er the shadowy lea. From the old tower the hours fall heavily Into the dark as though into the sea A rustle, a call of night-watch in the grove, Then for a while void silence lls the air; And then a violin (from God knows where) Awakes and slowly sings: Oh Love ... Oh Love ...

IN APRIL Again the woods are odorous, the lark Lifts on upsoaring wings the heaven gray That hung above the tree-tops, veiled and dark, Where branches bare disclosed the empty day. After long rainy afternoons an hour Comes with its shafts of golden light and ings Them at the windows in a radiant shower, And rain drops beat the panes like timorous wings. Then all is still. The stones are crooned to sleep By the soft sound of rain that slowly dies; And cradled in the branches, hidden deep In each bright bud, a slumbering silence lies.

MEMORIES OF A CHILDHOOD The darkness hung like richness in the room When like a dream the mother entered there And then a glass's tinkle stirred the air Near where a boy sat in the silent gloom. The room betrayed the motherso she felt She kissed her boy and questioned "Are you here?" And with a gesture that he held most dear Down for a moment by his side she knelt. Toward the piano they both shyly glanced For she would sing to him on many a night, And the child seated in the fading light Would listen strangely as if half entranced, His large eyes fastened with a quiet glow Upon the hand which by her ring seemed bent And slowly wandering o'er the white keys went Moving as though against a drift of snow. DEATH Before us great Death stands Our fate held close within his quiet hands. When with proud joy we lift Life's red wine To drink deep of the mystic shining cup And ecstasy through all our being leaps Death bows his head and weeps. THE ASHANTEE