Into My Own
The youth is persuaded that he will be rather more than less himself for having forsworn the world.
He is happy in society of his choosing.
My November Guest
He is in love with being misunderstood.
Love and a Question
He is in doubt whether to admit real trouble to a place beside the hearth with love.
A Late Walk
He courts the autumnal mood.
There is no oversight of human affairs.
He is afraid of his own isolation.
Wind and Window Flower
Out of the winter things he fashions a story of modern love.
To the Thawing Wind
He calls on change through the violence of the elements.
A Prayer in Spring
He discovers that the greatness of love lies not in forward-looking thoughts;
nor yet in any spur it may be to ambition.
He is no dissenter from the ritualism of nature;
Asking for Roses
nor from the ritualism of youth which is make-believe.
Waiting—Afield at Dusk
He arrives at the turn of the year.
In a Vale
Out of old longings he fashions a story.
A Dream Pang
He is shown by a dream how really well it is with him.
He is scornful of folk his scorn cannot reach.
The Vantage Point
And again scornful, but there is no one hurt.
He takes up life simply with the small tasks.
Going for Water
He resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, since there is no help else;
The Trial by Existence
and to know definitely what he thinks about the soul;
In Equal Sacrifice
The Tuft of Flowers
Spoils of the Dead
Pan with Us
about art (his own);
The Demiurge's Laugh
Now Close the Windows
It is time to make an end of speaking.
A Line-storm Song
It is the autumnal mood with a difference.
He sees days slipping from him that were the best for what they were.
There are things that can never be the same.