NEVER- TO BE -RECALLED 



VI 



Where I find her not, beauties vanish; 

 Whither I follow her, beauties flee; 

 Is there no method to tell her in Spanish 



June's twice June since she breathed it with 



me? 

 Come, bud, show me the least of her traces, 



Treasure my lady's lightest footfall! 

 Ah, you may flout and turn up your faces 

 Roses, you are not so fair after all! 

 ROBERT BROWNING. 



Garden Fancies. 



Come into the Garden, Maud! 



Come into the garden, Maud, 



For the black bat, night, has flown, 



Come into the garden, Maud, 

 I am here at the gate alone; 



And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, 

 And the musk of the rose is blown. 



[85] 



