EDITORIAL NOTE TO POETRY

dead ones rest, O marble falsehood, thee I love: for easy jest My soul thou settest free. To-day, to-day alone, My soul to tears is stirred, At thee, the pictured stone, At thee, the graven word. This picture (none need wis) I kissed the other day. When there's so much to kiss Why did I kiss the—clay? Who knows the reason why? "A tombstone fool!" you laugh: I kissed—I'll not deny— E'en the long epitaph. TO FRIENDSHIP Hail to thee, Friendship! My hope consummate, My first red daybreak! Alas, so endless