NIGHT Upon the softly greying air Lingered the scent of rose and musk, And wrapped in veils of filmy hair Advanced the misty form of dusk. Upon the woods he breathed a sigh And hung upon the hills like frost, Silvered the river flowing by And softened all, and then was lost. The vague black form of gloomy night Approached and deepened still the haze, Until he vanished out of sight And merged into the blacks and greys. A silver streak the river passed, A deeper mass revealed the wood, And all the world was folded fast In night's black cloak and velvet hood.
THE WANDERER I knew him when he was a child, When lilac bloomed on the lea. We raced along to the church on the hill Together, I and he. And still a child he ran away And sailed across the sea. I knew him when he was a man, When roses blushed in the prime. He returned and we went to the church on the hill And prayed a little time. Then away he wandered over the world And roved from clime to clime. I knew him broken and bent with age When ivy strangled the tree. I led him along to the church on the hill And he prayed again with me. And still he wandered away at a whim, As restless as the sea. The foot-steps sound in the empty church And echo down the aisle; The organ blows with unearthly breath And the gargoyles seem to smile. 0 God, you gave him a roving life, Now grant him rest a while. 19
