Alice Duer Miller

  • A Sonnet

    Dear, if you love me, hold me most your friend,
    Chosen from out the many who would bear
    Your gladness gladly—heavily your care;
    Who best can sympathize, best comprehend,
    Where others fail; who, breathless to the end,
    Follows your tale of joy or of despair...

  • Song

    The Light of spring
      On the emerald earth,
    A man, a maid,
      And a mood of mirth,
    A foolish jest,
      That a smile amends—
    It took no more
      To make us friends.

    An evening breeze,
      The year in bloom,
    Lips quickly...