We are apart; the city grows quiet… She hushes herself, for midnight m… The tangle of traffic is ended, th… Five streets divide us, and on the… Oh are you asleep, or lying awake,…

SUN-SWEPT beaches with a light… From the immense blue circle of th… And the soft thunder where long wa… These were the same for Sappho as… Two thousand years’€”much has gone…

I am wild, I will sing to the tre… I will sing to the stars in the sk… I love, I am loved, he is mine, Now at last I can die! I am sandaled with wind and with f…

I saw her in a Broadway car, The woman I might grow to be; I felt my lover look at her And then turn suddenly to me. Her hair was dull and drew no ligh…

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…

Like some rare queen of old romanc… Who loved the gleam of helm and la… Is she. A harper of King Arthur’s days Should praise her in a hundred lay…

How many million Aprils came    Before I ever knew How white a cherry bough could be,    A bed of squills, how blue. And many a dancing April

We held the book together timidly, Whose antique music in an alien to… Once rose among the dew-drenched v… Beneath a high Castilian balcony. I felt the lute strings’ ancient e…

Fields beneath a quilt of snow From which the rocks and stubble s… And in the west a shy white star That shivers as it wakes from deep… The restless rumble of the train,

I would live in your love as the s… Borne up by each wave as it passes… I would empty my soul of the dream… I would beat with your heart as it…

Let it be forgotten, as a flower i… Forgotten as a fire that once was… Let it be forgotten forever and ev… Time is a kind friend, he will mak… If anyone asks, say it was forgott…

Why did you bring me here? The sand is white with snow, Over the wooden domes The winter sea-winds blow— There is no shelter near,

The Princess sings: I am the princess up in the tower And I dream the whole day thro’ Of a knight who shall come with a… And a waving plume of blue.

I said, “I will take my life And throw it away; I who was fire and song Will turn to clay.” “I will lie no more in the night

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