The Sun-Dial
Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.
This poem is in the public domain.
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November Night
Listen …
With faint dry sound,
Like steps of passing ghosts,
The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break from the trees
And fall.
1915
Triad
These be three silent things: The falling snow . . . the hour Before the dawn . . . the mouth of one Just dead.
1915
The Guarded Wound
If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it were, Too heavy!
1915