When on the Marge of Evening 32 Rooks in New College Gardens 32 Open, Time 33 The Knight Errant (Donatello’s Saint George) 34 To a Dog’s Memory 35 A Seventeenth-Century Song 36 On the Pre-Reformation Churches about Oxford 37 The Still of the Year 38 A Foot-note to a Famous Lyric 39 T. W. P. 1819-1892 41 Summum Bonum 41 Saint Florent-le-Vieil 42 Hylas 42 Nocturne 43 The Kings 44 Alexandriana 47 London: Twelve Sonnets. On First Entering Westminster Abbey 55 Fog 55 St. Peter-ad-Vincula 56 Strikers in Hyde Park 56 Changes in the Temple 57 The Lights of London 58 Doves 58 In the Reading-Room of the British Museum 59 Sunday Chimes in the City 59 A Porch in Belgravia 60 York Stairs 61 In the Docks 61 A ROADSIDE HARP. POEMS BY LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY _Peter Rugg the Bostonian_ I THE mare is pawing by the oak, The chaise is cool and wide For Peter Rugg the Bostonian With his little son beside; The women loiter at the wheels In the pleasant summer-tide. “And when wilt thou be home, Father?” “And when, good husband, say: The cloud hangs heavy on the house What time thou art away.” He answers straight, he answers short, “At noon of the seventh day.” “Fail not to come, if God so will, And the weather be kind and clear.” “Farewell, farewell! But who am I A blockhead rain to fear? God willing or God unwilling, I have said it, I will be here.” He gathers up the sunburnt boy And from the gate is sped; He shakes the spark from the stones below, The bloom from overhead, Till the last roofs of his own town Pass in the morning-red. Upon a homely mission North unto York he goes, Through the long highway broidered thick With elder-blow and rose; And sleeps in sound of breakers At every twilight’s close. Intense upon his heedless head Frowns Agamenticus, Knowing of Heaven’s challenger The answer: even thus The Patience that is hid on high Doth stoop to master us. II