One Things There's No Getting

No One But Night, With Tears On Her Dark Face, Watches Beside Me In This Windy Place.

That Is My Being, The Madness Of An Unaccustomed Mood.

Sweet Love, Sweet Thorn, When Lightly To My Heart. I Took Your Thrust, Whereby I Since Am Slain, And I Lie Disheveled In The Grass Apart, A Sodden Thing Bedrenched By Tears And Rain.

Death Devours All Lovely Things.

It's Not Love's Going Hurts My Days But That It Went In Little Ways.