There shall be a song for both of us that day Though fools say you have long outlived your songs, And when, perhaps, because your hair is grey, You go unsung, to whom all praise belongs,...
Dawn has flashed up the startled skies, Night has gone out beneath the hill Many sweet times; before our eyes Dawn makes and unmakes about us still The magic that we call the rose....
I am growing old: I have kept youth too long, But I dare not let them know it now. I have done the heart of youth a grievous wrong, Danced it to dust and drugged it with the rose,...
I am not true, but you would pardon this If you could see the tortured spirit take Its place beside you in the dark, and break Your daily food of love and kindliness....
"What did she leave?" ... Only these hungry miser-words, poor heart! Not "Did she love?" "Did she suffer?" "Was she sad From this green, bright and tossing world to part?"...
Here in a quiet and dusty room they lie, Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand, Forlorn as ashes, shrivelled, scentless, dry - Meadows and gardens running through my hand. ...
The low bay melts into a ring of silver, And slips it on the shore's reluctant finger, Though in an hour the tide will turn, will tremble, Forsaking her because the moon persuades him....