Recurrence
We shall have our little day. Take my hand and travel still Round and round the little way, Up and down the little hill. It is good to love again; Scan the renovated skies,
On Cheating The Fiddler
“Then we will have tonight!” we said. “Tomorrow – may we not be dead?” The morrow touched our eyes, and found Us walking firm above the ground, Our pulses quick, our blood alight. Tomorrow’s
Ninon De Lenclos, On Her Last Birthday
So let me have the rouge again, And comb my hair the curly way. The poor young men, the dear young men They’ll all be here by noon today. And I shall wear the
Transition
Too long and quickly have I lived to vow The woe that stretches me shall never wane, Too often seen the end of endless pain To swear that peace no more shall cool my
The Evening Primrose
You know the bloom, unearthly white, That none has seen by morning light- The tender moon, alone, may bare Its beauty to the secret air. Who’d venture past its dark retreat Must kneel, for
The Immortals
If you should sail for Trebizond, or die, Or cry another name in your first sleep, Or see me board a train, and fail to sigh, Appropriately, I’d clutch my breast and weep. And
Surprise
My heart went fluttering with fear Lest you should go, and leave me here To beat my breast and rock my head And stretch me sleepless on my bed. Ah, clear they see and
A Very Short Song
Once, when I was young and true, Someone left me sad- Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there
Theory
Into love and out again, Thus I went, and thus I go. Spare your voice, and hold your pen- Well and bitterly I know All the songs were ever sung, All the words were
The Whistling Girl
Back of my back, they talk of me, Gabble and honk and hiss; Let them batten, and let them be- Me, I can sing them this: “Better to shiver beneath the stars, Head on
The Little Old Lady in Lavender Silk
I was seventy-seven, come August, I shall shortly be losing my bloom; I’ve experienced zephyr and raw gust And (symbolical) flood and simoom. When you come to this time of abatement, To this passing
Somebody's Song
This is what I vow; He shall have my heart to keep, Sweetly will we stir and sleep, All the years, as now. Swift the measured sands may run; Love like this is never
The Sea
Who lay against the sea, and fled, Who lightly loved the wave, Shall never know, when he is dead, A cool and murmurous grave. But in a shallow pit shall rest For all eternity,
Incurable
And if my heart be scarred and burned, The safer, I, for all I learned; The calmer, I, to see it true That ways of love are never new- The love that sets you
Interview
The ladies men admire, I’ve heard, Would shudder at a wicked word. Their candle gives a single light; They’d rather stay at home at night. They do not keep awake till three, Nor read