I HAVE been happy two weeks toge… My love is coming home to me, Gold and silver is the weather And smooth as lapis is the sea. The earth has turned its brown to…

The moon is like a scimitar, A little silver scimitar, A-drifting down the sky. And near beside it is a star, A timid twinkling golden star,

(For a picture by Duncan Walker) Lady, light in the east hangs low, Draw your veils of dream apart, Under the casement stands Pierrot Making a song to ease his heart.

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,

Out of the window a sea of green t…    Lift their soft boughs like the… They beckon and call me, “Come ou…    But I cannot answer. I am alone with Weakness and Pain…

My soul lives in my body’s house, And you have both the house and he… But sometimes she is less your own Than a wild, gay adventurer; A restless and an eager wraith,

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…

If I can bear your love like a la… When I go down the long steep Roa… I shall not fear the everlasting s… Nor cry in terror. If I can find out God, then I sh…

For W. P. The little park was filled with pe… The walks were carpeted with snow, But every iron gate was locked. Lest if we entered, peace would go…

The lightning spun your garment fo… Of silver filaments with fire shot… A broidery of lamps that lit for y… The steadfast splendor of enduring… The moon drifts dimly in the heave…

It will not change now After so many years; Life has not broken it With parting or tears; Death will not alter it,

Oh, because you never tried To bow my will or break my pride, And nothing of the cave-man made You want to keep me half afraid, Nor ever with a conquering air

Come, when the pale moon like a pe… Floats in the pearly dusk of sprin… Come with outstretched arms to tak… Come with lips pursed up to cling. Come, for life is a frail moth fly…

The world is tired, the year is ol… The little leaves are glad to die, The wind goes shivering with cold Among the rushes dry. Our love is dying like the grass,