lyric poetry

mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
from floor to ceiling
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
daughter, thou art come to die
she was a beauty in the days
we break the glass whose sacred wine
storm
a very remarkable history this is
the little white prayers
gingham dog and the calico cat
shades of night were falling fast