Little child Who was me once, My pity on you- And reverence. If we could meet Where I once strayed, The betrayer And the betrayed. If we could win back In Time's defiance, Would you be afeared of me, Ten-year-old Terence? No, you would not fear. You would love, trust, Cherish, admire This tedious dust. For oh! we were all brimming once With the sun-sparkled dew. One heart could have loved this hulk- The ignorant heart of you.

Be kind, Helen, I am so tired of thinking; There are so many difficult corridors of thought, With equal iron banisters leading back again: So many stone stairs…

The most difficult thing in the world is to know how to do a thing and to watch somebody else doing it wrong, without comment.

Helen whose face was fatal must have wept Many salt tears to keep her eyes so bright Many long nights alone: and every night Men died, she cried, and happy Par…