Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/1103

 FRANCES BANNERMAN

But through all the joy I knew I only How the hostel of my heart lay bare and cold,

Silent of its music, and how lonely'

Never, though you crown me with your gold, Shall I find that little chamber as of old'

��STEPHEN PHILLIPS The A-pfarition

MY dead Love came to me, and said: 'God gives me one hour's rest To spend upon the earth with thee: How shall we spend it best ? '

'Why, as of old,' I said, and so

We quarrell'd as of old. But when I turn'd to make my peace

That one short hour was told.

��RUDYARD KIPLING 898 L'Envoi

THERE 's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield

And the ricks stand gray to the sun, Singing* 'Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the

clover And your English summer J s done.'

�� �