Do not waste your pity, friend, When you see me weep as now; Keep it to some better end. When dry-eyed I went about With a leaden heart locked in By a silent tongue, ah! then Had you brought it, it had been Sweet indeed to me; but now When the depths of my despair Are upheaved and through the portals Of my heart come free as air, It is useless. If you please, Give your thanks that to a woman Tears are given, and be at ease.
The wind exultant swept Through the new leaves overhead, Till at once my pulses leapt With a life I thought long dead, And I woke, as one who has slept, To my childhood,—that had not fled, On the wind my spirit flew; Its freedom was mine as well. For a moment the world was new; What came there...
There, as she sewed, came floating through her head Odd bits of poems, learned in other days And long forgotten in the noisier ways Through which the fortunes of her life now led; And looking up, she saw upon the shelf In dusty rank her favorite poets stand, All uncaressed by her fond eye or...
Do not waste your pity, friend, When you see me weep as now; Keep it to some better end. When dry-eyed I went about With a leaden heart locked in By a silent tongue, ah! then Had you brought it, it had been Sweet indeed to me; but now When the depths of my despair Are upheaved and...
“and you, Sir Poet, shall you make, I pray, This child a poet with that insight rare They tell me poets have, that everywhere He sees new beauties lost to common clay?” “Nay,” said the poet, “rather lend the boy Your scarf of gauze, to veil his questioning eye, Lest in his pleasure he...
I tripped along a narrow way, Plucking the same flowers, day by day; The sun which round about me lay Had never seemed to sink. But now at once the path divides; I see new flowers bloom on all sides; I stop, while doubt the sun half hides: I have begun to think.
