AT six o’clock of an autumn dusk With the sky in the west a rusty r… The bells of the mission down in t… Cry out that the day is dead. The first star pricks as sharp as…

I shall bury my weary Love Beneath a tree, In the forest tall and black Where none can see. I shall put no flowers at his head…

The birds are all a-building, They say the world’s a-flower, And still I linger lonely Within a barren bower. I weave a web of fancies

WHEN they see my songs They will sigh and say, ‘Poor soul, wistful soul, Lonely night and day.’ They will never know

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

Now at last I have come to see wh… Nothing is ever ended, everything… And the brave victories that seem… Are never really won. Even love that I built my spirit’…

If he could know my songs are all… At silver dawn or in the evening g… Would he not smile and think it bu… If he could know? Or would his heart rejoice and ove…

I WENT out at night alone; The young blood flowing beyond the… Seemed to have drenched my spirit’… I bore my sorrow heavily. But when I lifted up my head

I saw a star slide down the sky, Blinding the north as it went by, Too burning and too quick to hold, Too lovely to be bought or sold, Good only to make wishes on

The wide, bright temple of the wor… And entered from the dizzy infinit… That I might kneel and worship th… Leaving the singing stars their ce… Of silver music sound on orbed sou…

The winds have grown articulate in… And voiced again the wail of ancie… That smote upon the winds of long… The cries of Trojan women as they… The quivering moan of pale Androm…

Evening, and all the birds In a chorus of shimmering sound Are easing their hearts of joy For miles around. The air is blue and sweet,

Hope went by and Peace went by And would not enter in; Youth went by and Health wnt by And Love that is their kin. Those within the house shed tears

They never saw my lover’s face, They only know our love was brief, Wearing awhile a windy grace And passing like an autumn leaf. They wonder why I do not weep,