Poem by Lesbia Harford

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O little year, cram full of duty,
Rapture and sorrow, too,
Show me the way from old paths of beauty
Into the fields of dew.
Strange lorn fields where the moon goes riding
Over a lonely sky.
Kind little year, in your onward gliding
Let me not pass them by.

1. A lady and I were walking
2. Suburban Dames
3. You, whom the grave cannot bind
4. A bunch of lilac and a storm of hail
5. How funny it would be if dreamy I

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