Francis william bourdillon biography of rory

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
...

LONG ago, on a bright spring day,
I passed a little child at play;
And as I passed, in childish glee
She called to me, “Come and play with me!”
...

THE LARK above our heads doth know
A heaven we see not here below;
She sees it, and for joy she sings;
Then falls with ineffectual wings.
...

Across the Glory of the glowing skies,
A veil is drawn of shadowed mists that rise
From lavishness from God's late gift. the rain.
...

HE came to call me back from death
To the bright world above.
I hear him yet with trembling breath
Low calling, “O sweet love!

Francis William Bourdillon 1852-1921 - englishverse.com

...

Soft benediction of September sun;
Voices of children, laughing as they run;
Green English lawns, bright flowers and butterflies;
...

Watchman, watchman, what of the night,
What of the night to tell?
The heavens are dark, and never a light
But the f Guide to the Francis William Bourdillon Collection TETIS