Godmother
The day that I was christened- It’s a hundred years, and more!- A hag came and listened At the white church door, A-hearing her that bore me And all my kith and kin Considerately,
Paths
I shall tread, another year, Ways I walked with Grief, Past the dry, ungarnered ear And the brittle leaf. I shall stand, a year apart, Wondering, and shy, Thinking, “Here she broke her heart;
Convalescent
How shall I wail, that wasn’t meant for weeping? Love has run and left me, oh, what then? Dream, then, I must, who never can be sleeping; What if I should meet Love, once
The Thin Edge
With you, my heart is quiet here, And all my thoughts are cool as rain. I sit and let the shifting year Go by before the windowpane, And reach my hand to yours, my
The Apple Tree
When first we saw the apple tree The boughs were dark and straight, But never grief to give had we, Though Spring delayed so late. When last I came away from there The boughs
Autumn Valentine
In May my heart was breaking- Oh, wide the wound, and deep! And bitter it beat at waking, And sore it split in sleep. And when it came November, I sought my heart, and
On Being A Woman
Why is it, when I am in Rome, I’d give an eye to be at home, But when on native earth I be, My soul is sick for Italy? And why with you, my
A Certain Lady
Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head, And drink your rushing words with eager lips, And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red, And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips.
Mortal Enemy
Let another cross his way- She’s the one will do the weeping! Little need I fear he’ll stray Since I have his heart in keeping- Let another hail him dear- Little chance that he’ll
There Was One
There was one a-riding grand On a tall brown mare, And a fine gold band He brought me there. A little, gold band He held to me That would shine on a hand For
The Leal
The friends I made have slipped and strayed, And who’s the one that cares? A trifling lot and best forgot- And that’s my tale, and theirs. Then if my friendships break and bend, There’s
But Not Forgotten
I think, no matter where you stray, That I shall go with you a way. Though you may wander sweeter lands, You will not soon forget my hands, Nor yet the way I held
Requiescat
Tonight my love is sleeping cold Where none may see and none shall pass. The daisies quicken in the mold, And richer fares the meadow grass. The warding cypress pleads the skies, The mound
I Know I Have Been Happiest
I know I have been happiest at your side; But what is done, is done, and all’s to be. And small the good, to linger dolefully- Gayly it lived, and gallantly it died. I
Story
“And if he’s gone away,” said she, “Good riddance, if you’re asking me. I’m not a one to lie awake And weep for anybody’s sake. There’s better lads than him about! I’ll wear my