I have winged it with desire,
  That it may be a cloud by day,
   And in the night a shaft of fire.

A Prayer

  Until I lose my soul and lie
   Blind to the beauty of the earth,
  Deaf though shouting wind goes by,
   Dumb in a storm of mirth;

  Until my heart is quenched at length
   And I have left the land of men,
  Oh, let me love with all my strength
   Careless if I am loved again.

Spring Night

  The park is filled with night and fog,
   The veils are drawn about the world,
  The drowsy lights along the paths
   Are dim and pearled.

  Gold and gleaming the empty streets,
   Gold and gleaming the misty lake,
  The mirrored lights like sunken swords,
   Glimmer and shake.

  Oh, is it not enough to be
  Here with this beauty over me?
  My throat should ache with praise, and I
  Should kneel in joy beneath the sky.
  O, beauty, are you not enough?
  Why am I crying after love,
  With youth, a singing voice, and eyes
  To take earth's wonder with surprise?

  Why have I put off my pride,
  Why am I unsatisfied,—
  I, for whom the pensive night
  Binds her cloudy hair with light,—
  I, for whom all beauty burns
  Like incense in a million urns?
  O beauty, are you not enough?
  Why am I crying after love?

May Wind

  I said, "I have shut my heart
   As one shuts an open door,
  That Love may starve therein
   And trouble me no more."

  But over the roofs there came
   The wet new wind of May,
  And a tune blew up from the curb
   Where the street-pianos play.

  My room was white with the sun
   And Love cried out in me,
  "I am strong, I will break your heart
   Unless you set me free."

Tides

  Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing
   Where the starlike sea gulls soar;
  The sun was keen and the foam was blowing
   High on the rocky shore.

  But now in the dusk the tide is turning,
   Lower the sea gulls soar,
  And the waves that rose in resistless yearning
   Are broken forevermore.

After Love

  There is no magic any more,
   We meet as other people do,
  You work no miracle for me
   Nor I for you.

  You were the wind and I the sea—
   There is no splendor any more,
  I have grown listless as the pool
   Beside the shore.

  But though the pool is safe from storm
   And from the tide has found surcease,
  It grows more bitter than the sea,
   For all its peace.

New Love and Old

  In my heart the old love
   Struggled with the new;
  It was ghostly waking
   All night through.

  Dear things, kind things,
   That my old love said,
  Ranged themselves reproachfully
   Round my bed.

  But I could not heed them,
   For I seemed to see
  The eyes of my new love
   Fixed on me.

  Old love, old love,
   How can I be true?
  Shall I be faithless to myself
   Or to you?

The Kiss

  I hoped that he would love me,
   And he has kissed my mouth,
  But I am like a stricken bird
   That cannot reach the south.

  For though I know he loves me,
   To-night my heart is sad;
  His kiss was not so wonderful
   As all the dreams I had.

Swans

  Night is over the park, and a few brave stars
   Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold,
  The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars
   That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold.

  We watch the swans that sleep in a shadowy place,
   And now and again one wakes and uplifts its head;
  How still you are—your gaze is on my face—
   We watch the swans and never a word is said.

The River

  I came from the sunny valleys
   And sought for the open sea,
  For I thought in its gray expanses
   My peace would come to me.

  I came at last to the ocean
   And found it wild and black,
  And I cried to the windless valleys,
   "Be kind and take me back!"

  But the thirsty tide ran inland,
   And the salt waves drank of me,
  And I who was fresh as the rainfall
   Am bitter as the sea.

November

  The world is tired, the year is old,
   The fading leaves are glad to die,
  The wind goes shivering with cold
   Where the brown reeds are dry.

  Our love is dying like the grass,
   And we who kissed grow coldly kind,
  Half glad to see our old love pass
   Like leaves along the wind.

Spring Rain

  I thought I had forgotten,
   But it all came back again
  To-night with the first spring thunder
   In a rush of rain.

  I remembered a darkened doorway
   Where we stood while the storm swept by,
  Thunder gripping the earth
   And lightning scrawled on the sky.

  The passing motor busses swayed,
   For the street was a river of rain,
  Lashed into little golden waves
   In the lamp light's stain.

  With the wild spring rain and thunder
   My heart was wild and gay;
  Your eyes said more to me that night
   Than your lips would ever say. . . .

  I thought I had forgotten,
   But it all came back again
  To-night with the first spring thunder
   In a rush of rain.

The Ghost

  I went back to the clanging city,
   I went back where my old loves stayed,
  But my heart was full of my new love's glory,
   My eyes were laughing and unafraid.

  I met one who had loved me madly
   And told his love for all to hear—
  But we talked of a thousand things together,
   The past was buried too deep to fear.

  I met the other, whose love was given
   With never a kiss and scarcely a word—
  Oh, it was then the terror took me
   Of words unuttered that breathed and stirred.

  Oh, love that