id="id00052">  Oh, there are breasts to bear his head,
   And lips whereon his lips can lie,
  But I must be till I am dead
   Only a cry.

Gifts

  I gave my first love laughter,
   I gave my second tears,
  I gave my third love silence
   Through all the years.

  My first love gave me singing,
   My second eyes to see,
  But oh, it was my third love
   Who gave my soul to me.

But Not to Me

  The April night is still and sweet
   With flowers on every tree;
  Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
      But not to me.

  My peace is hidden in his breast
   Where I shall never be;
  Love comes to-night to all the rest,
      But not to me.

Song at Capri

  When beauty grows too great to bear
   How shall I ease me of its ache,
  For beauty more than bitterness
   Makes the heart break.

  Now while I watch the dreaming sea
   With isles like flowers against her breast,
  Only one voice in all the world
   Could give me rest.

Child, Child

  Child, child, love while you can
  The voice and the eyes and the soul of a man;
  Never fear though it break your heart—
  Out of the wound new joy will start;
  Only love proudly and gladly and well,
  Though love be heaven or love be hell.

  Child, child, love while you may,
  For life is short as a happy day;
  Never fear the thing you feel—
  Only by love is life made real;
  Love, for the deadly sins are seven,
  Only through love will you enter heaven.

Love Me

  Brown-thrush singing all day long
   In the leaves above me,
  Take my love this April song,
   "Love me, love me, love me!"

  When he harkens what you say,
   Bid him, lest he miss me,
  Leave his work or leave his play,
   And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!

Pierrot

  Pierrot stands in the garden
   Beneath a waning moon,
  And on his lute he fashions
   A fragile silver tune.

  Pierrot plays in the garden,
   He thinks he plays for me,
  But I am quite forgotten
   Under the cherry tree.

  Pierrot plays in the garden,
   And all the roses know
  That Pierrot loves his music,—
   But I love Pierrot.

Wild Asters

  In the spring I asked the daisies
   If his words were true,
  And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
   Always knew.

  Now the fields are brown and barren,
   Bitter autumn blows,
  And of all the stupid asters
   Not one knows.

The Song for Colin

  I sang a song at dusking time
   Beneath the evening star,
  And Terence left his latest rhyme
   To answer from afar.

  Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,
   And sighed, "She sings for me."
  But Colin slept a careless sleep
   Beneath an apple tree.

Four Winds

  "Four winds blowing through the sky,
  You have seen poor maidens die,
  Tell me then what I shall do
  That my lover may be true."
  Said the wind from out the south,
  "Lay no kiss upon his mouth,"
  And the wind from out the west,
  "Wound the heart within his breast,"
  And the wind from out the east,
  "Send him empty from the feast,"
  And the wind from out the north,
  "In the tempest thrust him forth;
  When thou art more cruel than he,
  Then will Love be kind to thee."

Debt

  What do I owe to you
   Who loved me deep and long?
  You never gave my spirit wings
   Or gave my heart a song.

  But oh, to him I loved,
   Who loved me not at all,
  I owe the open gate
   That led through heaven's wall.

Faults

  They came to tell your faults to me,
  They named them over one by one;
  I laughed aloud when they were done,
  I knew them all so well before,—
  Oh, they were blind, too blind to see
  Your faults had made me love you more.

Buried Love

  I have come to bury Love
   Beneath a tree,
  In the forest tall and black
   Where none can see.

  I shall put no flowers at his head,
   Nor stone at his feet,
  For the mouth I loved so much
   Was bittersweet.

  I shall go no more to his grave,
   For the woods are cold.
  I shall gather as much of joy
   As my hands can hold.

  I shall stay all day in the sun
   Where the wide winds blow,—
  But oh, I shall cry at night
   When none will know.

The Fountain

  All through the deep blue night
   The fountain sang alone;
  It sang to the drowsy heart
   Of the satyr carved in stone.

  The fountain sang and sang,
   But the satyr never stirred—
  Only the great white moon
   In the empty heaven heard.

  The fountain sang and sang
   While on the marble rim
  The milk-white peacocks slept,
   And their dreams were strange and dim.

  Bright dew was on the grass,
   And on the ilex, dew,
  The dreamy milk-white birds
   Were all a-glisten, too.

  The fountain sang and sang
   The things one cannot tell;
  The dreaming peacocks stirred
   And the gleaming dew-drops fell.

I Shall Not Care

  When I am dead and over me bright April
   Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
  Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,
   I shall not care.

  I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
   When rain bends down the bough,
  And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
   Than you are now.

After Parting

  Oh, I have sown my love so wide
   That he will find it everywhere;
  It will awake him in the night,
   It will enfold him in the air.

  I set my shadow in his sight
   And