There was a something in your song, men say No later singer voices: some strange power Like to the essence in a rare June day, Or like the subtle perfume of a flower....
However inexplicable may seem Event and circumstance upon this earth, Though favours fall on those whom none esteem, And insult and indifference greet worth; Though poverty repays the life of toil,...
All the selfish joys of earth, I am getting through. That which used to lure and lead Now I pass and give no heed; Only one thing seems of worth - Just you.
Long have I searched, cathedral shrine, and hall, To find a symbol, from the hand of art, That gave the full expression (not a part) Of that ecstatic peace which follows all...
Not great Vesuvius, in all his ire, Nor all the centuries, could hide your shame. There is the little window where you came, With eyes that woke the demon of desire,...
With brooding mien and sultry eyes, Outside the gates of Paradise Eve sat, and fed the faggot flame That lit the path whence Adam came. (Strange are the workings of a woman's mind.) ...
'Oh life is wonderful,' she said, 'And all my world is bright; Can Paradise show fairer skies, Or more effulgent light?' (Speak lower, lower, mortal heart, The jealous gods may hear.) ...
Back of each soldier who fights for France, Ay, back of each woman and man Who toils and prays through these long tense days, Is the spirit of Great Joan. For the love she gave, and the life she gave,...
A changing medley of insistent sounds, Like broken airs, played on a Samisen, Pursues me, as the waves blot out the shore. The trot of wooden heels; the warning cry...