I love too much; I am a river Surging with spring that seeks the… I am too generous a giver, Love will not stoop to drink of me… His feet will turn to desert place…

He trod the earth but yesterday, And now he treads the stars. He left us in the April time He praised so often in his rhyme, He left the singing and the lyre a…

I think the moon is very kind To take such trouble just for me. He came along with me from home To keep me company. He went as fast as I could run;

I cannot die, who drank delight From the cup of the crescent moon, And hungrily as men eat bread, Loved the scented nights of June. The rest may die—but is there not

The sparrows wake beneath the conv… I think I have not slept the whol… But I am old; the aged scarcely k… The times they wake and sleep, for… They breathe the calm of death bef…

The dreams of my heart and my mind… Nothing stays with me long, But I have had from a child The deep solace of song; If that should ever leave me,

Less than the cloud to the wind, Less than the foam to the sea, Less than the rose to the storm, Am I to thee. More than the star to the night,

If I should see your eyes again, I know how far their look would go… Back to a morning in the park With sapphire shadows on the snow. Or back to oak trees in the spring

When Love was born I think he lay Right warm on Venus’ breast, And whiles he smiled and whiles wo… And whiles would take his rest. But always, folded out of sight,

This is the quiet hour; the theate… Have gathered in their crowds, and… The million lights blaze on for fe… Robbing the sky of stars that shou… A woman waits with bag and shabby…

Two knights rode forth at early da… A-seeking maids to wed, Said one, “My lady must be fair, With gold hair on her head.” Then spake the other knight-at-arm…

I turned the key and opened wide t… To enter my deserted room again, Where thro’ the long hot months th… Was it not lonely when across the… No step was heard, no sudden song…

Rose, when I remember you, Little lady, scarcely two, I am suddenly aware Of the angels in the air. All your softly gracious ways

Her voice is like clear water That drips upon a stone In forests far and silent Where Quiet plays alone. Her thoughts are like the lotus

My window-pane is starred with fro… The world is bitter cold to-night, The moon is cruel, and the wind Is like a two-edged sword to smite… God pity all the homeless ones,