To the lover who is loser? Has she felt: --the mere revealing Of the passion 's his accuser; She conceals it; the concealing Is her own love's self-abuser

This collection of poems is entirely new with the exception of three or four which appeared in two earlier volumes, published some ten years ago. The reprinted poems have been carefully re-written, and so changed throughout as to hardly bear any resemblance, except that of subject, to the original.

Day after Day, young with eternal beauty, Pays flowery duty to the month and clime; Night after night erects a vasty portal Of stars immortal for the march of Time.