all summer lies In the cool hollow of thy breast, Thou moth-winged creature darkly fair; The very sun steals down to rest Within thy swaying tendrilled hair, And forest-flicker of thine eyes.

CECIL O'NEIL Kisses are long forgotten of this twain, Kisses and wordsthe sweet small prophecies That run before the Lord of Love: the fain Touch of the hand, and feasting of the eyes, All tendrilled sweets that blossom at the door Of the stern doom, whose ecstacy is this The end of all small speech of word or kiss, And whose strange name is Loveand one name more.

Take them, dear, and pray for me. 'JULIET AND HER ROMEO' (With Mr. Dicksee's Picture) Take 'this of Juliet and her Romeo,' Dear Heart of mine, for though yon budding sky Yearns o'er Verona, and so long ago That kiss was kissed; yet surely Thou and I, Surely it is, whom morning tears apart, As ruthless men tear tendrilled ivy down: Is not Verona warm within thy gown, And Mantua all the world save where thou art?

Peace, therefore, to the souls of those dead directors, who, having only in mind their banking and engineering project, yet unconsciously wrought, nearly a century ago, so poetic a thing, and may their rest be lulled by such leafy murmurs and swaying of tendrilled shadows as all the day through stir and sway along the old canal!