Sigh not for love,—the ways of love are dark!
Sweet Child, hold up the hollow of your hand
And catch the sparks that flutter from the star!
See how the late sky spreads in flushing bars!
They are dead roses from your own dear land,
Tossed high...
Helen Hay
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Does the pearl know, that in its shade and sheen,
The dreamy rose and tender wavering green,
Are hid the hearts of all the ranging seas,
That Beauty weeps for gifts as fair as these?
Does it desire aught else when its rare blush
Reflects Aurora in the... -
Was there another Spring than this?
I half remember, through the haze
Of glimmering nights and golden days,
A broken-pinioned birdling’s note,
An angry sky, a sea-wrecked boat,
A wandering through rain-beaten ways!
Lean closer, love—I... -
Kiss me but once, and in that space supreme
My whole dark life shall quiver to an end,
Sweet Death shall see my heart and comprehend
That life is crowned, and in an endless gleam
Will fix the color of the dying stream,
That Life and Death may meet as... -
I Will not look for him, I will not hear
My heart’s loud beating, as I strain to see
Across the rain forlorn and hopelessly,
Nor, starting, think ’t is he that draws so near.
I will forget how tenderly and dear
He might in coming hold his arms to me,... -
The Ruddy poppies bend and bow,
Diane! do you remember?
The sun you knew shines proudly now,
The lake still lists the breeze’s vow,
Your towers are fairer for their stains,
Each stone you smiled upon remains.
Sing low—where is Diane?...