Let us clear a little space, And make Love a burial-place. He is dead, dear, as you see, And he wearies you and me.

There are ghosts in the room. As I sit here alone, from the dark corners there They come out of the gloom, And they stand at my side and they lean on my chair.

Whatever is a cruel wrong, Whatever is unjust, The honest years that speed along Will trample in the dust.

Even so We find the sea of sorrow. Black as night The sullen surface meets our frightened gaze, As down we sink to darkness and despair.

Time is the best avenger.

I think I never passed so sad an hour, Dear friend, as that one at the church to-night. The edifice from basement to the tower Was one resplendent blaze of coloured light.

Good music is wine turned to sound