At The Water's Edge
To sit and watch the wavelets as they flow
Two - side by side;
To see the gliding clouds that come and
And mark them glide;
Aux Poètes Futurs
POÈTES à venir, qui saurez tant de choses,
Et les direz sans doute en un verbe plus beau,
Portant plus loin que nous un plus large flambeau
Along the quay, the great ships,
that ride the swell in silence,
take no notice of the cradles.
that the hands of the women rock.
Never To See Or Hear Her
Never to see or hear her,
never to name her aloud,
but faithfully always to wait for her
and love her.
Music For The Dying
Ye who will help me in my dying pain,
Speak not a word: let all your voices cease.
Let me but hear some soft harmonious strain,
On The Water
The sound of bank and water is all I hear,
The sad resignation of a weeping spring
Or a rock that hourly sheds a tear,
And the birch leaves' vague quivering.