Still We Say As We Go,-"strange To

Your Eyes Smile Peace.

I Do Not See Them Here; But After Death God Knows I Know The Faces I Shall See, Each One A Murdered Self, With Low Last Breath. 'i Am Thyself,what Hast Thou Done To Me?' 'and Iand Ithyself,' (lo! Each One Saith,) 'and Thou Thyself To All Eternity!

Her Hair That Lay Along Her Back Was Yellow Like Ripe Corn.

Look In My Face; My Name Is Might-have-been; I Am Also Call'd No-more, Too-late, Farewell.

Tell Me Now In What Hidden Way Islady Flora The Lovely Roman?where's Hipparchia, And Where Is Thais,neither Of Them The Fairer Woman?where Is Echo, Beheld Of No Man,only Heard On River And Mere-she Whose Beauty Was More Than Human?-but Where Are The Snows Of Yester-year?