id="id00237" style="margin-top: 4em"> Moods

  I am the still rain falling,
   Too tired for singing mirth—
  Oh, be the green fields calling,
   Oh, be for me the earth!

  I am the brown bird pining
   To leave the nest and fly—
  Oh, be the fresh cloud shining,
   Oh, be for me the sky!

Houses of Dreams

  You took my empty dreams
   And filled them every one
  With tenderness and nobleness,
   April and the sun.

  The old empty dreams
   Where my thoughts would throng
  Are far too full of happiness
   To even hold a song.

  Oh, the empty dreams were dim
   And the empty dreams were wide,
  They were sweet and shadowy houses
   Where my thoughts could hide.

  But you took my dreams away
   And you made them all come true—
  My thoughts have no place now to play,
   And nothing now to do.

Lights

  When we come home at night and close the door,
   Standing together in the shadowy room,
   Safe in our own love and the gentle gloom,
  Glad of familiar wall and chair and floor,

  Glad to leave far below the clanging city;
   Looking far downward to the glaring street
   Gaudy with light, yet tired with many feet,
  In both of us wells up a wordless pity;

  Men have tried hard to put away the dark;
   A million lighted windows brilliantly
      Inlay with squares of gold the winter night,
  But to us standing here there comes the stark
      Sense of the lives behind each yellow light,
   And not one wholly joyous, proud, or free.

"I Am Not Yours"

  I am not yours, not lost in you,
   Not lost, although I long to be
  Lost as a candle lit at noon,
   Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

  You love me, and I find you still
   A spirit beautiful and bright,
  Yet I am I, who long to be
   Lost as a light is lost in light.

  Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
   My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
  Swept by the tempest of your love,
   A taper in a rushing wind.

Doubt

  My soul lives in my body's house,
   And you have both the house and her—
  But sometimes she is less your own
   Than a wild, gay adventurer;
  A restless and an eager wraith,
   How can I tell what she will do—
  Oh, I am sure of my body's faith,
   But what if my soul broke faith with you?

The Wind

  A wind is blowing over my soul,
   I hear it cry the whole night through—
  Is there no peace for me on earth
   Except with you?

  Alas, the wind has made me wise,
   Over my naked soul it blew,—
  There is no peace for me on earth
   Even with you.

Morning

  I went out on an April morning
   All alone, for my heart was high,
  I was a child of the shining meadow,
   I was a sister of the sky.

  There in the windy flood of morning
   Longing lifted its weight from me,
  Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering,
   Swept as a sea-bird out to sea.

Other Men

  When I talk with other men
   I always think of you—
  Your words are keener than their words,
   And they are gentler, too.

  When I look at other men,
   I wish your face were there,
  With its gray eyes and dark skin
   And tossed black hair.

  When I think of other men,
   Dreaming alone by day,
  The thought of you like a strong wind
   Blows the dreams away.

Embers

  I said, "My youth is gone
   Like a fire beaten out by the rain,
  That will never sway and sing
   Or play with the wind again."

  I said, "It is no great sorrow
   That quenched my youth in me,
  But only little sorrows
   Beating ceaselessly."

  I thought my youth was gone,
   But you returned—
  Like a flame at the call of the wind
   It leaped and burned;

  Threw off its ashen cloak,
   And gowned anew
  Gave itself like a bride
   Once more to you.

Message

  I heard a cry in the night,
   A thousand miles it came,
  Sharp as a flash of light,
   My name, my name!

  It was your voice I heard,
   You waked and loved me so—
  I send you back this word,
   I know, I know!

The Lamp

  If I can bear your love like a lamp before me,
  When I go down the long steep Road of Darkness,
  I shall not fear the everlasting shadows,
      Nor cry in terror.

  If I can find out God, then I shall find Him,
  If none can find Him, then I shall sleep soundly,
  Knowing how well on earth your love sufficed me,
      A lamp in darkness.

IV

A November Night

       There! See the line of lights,
       A chain of stars down either side the street—
       Why can't you lift the chain and give it to me,
       A necklace for my throat? I'd twist it round
       And you could play with it. You smile at me
       As though I were a little dreamy child
       Behind whose eyes the fairies live. . . . And see,
       The people on the street look up at us
       All envious. We are a king and queen,
       Our royal carriage is a motor bus,
       We watch our subjects with a haughty joy. . . .
       How still you are! Have you been hard at work
       And are you tired to-night? It is so long
       Since I have seen you—four whole days, I think.
       My heart is crowded full of foolish thoughts
       Like early flowers in an April meadow,
       And I must give them to you, all of them,
       Before they fade. The people I have met,
       The play I saw, the trivial, shifting things
       That loom too big or shrink too little, shadows
       That hurry, gesturing along a wall,
       Haunting or gay—and yet they all grow real
       And take their proper size here in my heart
       When you have seen them. . .