While The Billy BoilsSearchJust a flush of pleasureAnd a flash of painFor a half-guessed treasureFound and lost again:Faery fancies flocking,Hopes and fears astart,That’s when Love comes knocking —Knocking at the heart.
Just the glad surrenderTo a power that ringsEarthward from the tenderGodward heart of things:God’s own hands a-swingingHeaven’s gates apart,That’s when Love is singing —Singing in the heart.
Gold of lost SeptembersBlown across the grey,Hope’s dead camp-fires’ embers,Ghosts beside the way:Mute the lyre, unlifted,Sad the skies athwart,That’s when love has drifted —Drifted from the heart.