At midnight, when the moonlit cypr… Have woven round his grave a magic… Still weeping the unfinished hymn… There moves fresh Maia, like a mo… Blown over jonquil beds when warm…

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,

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…

When April bends above me And finds me fast asleep Dust need not keep the secret A live heart died to keep. When April tells the thrushes,

As dew leaves the cobweb lightly Threaded with stars, Scattering jewels on the fence And the pasture bars; As dawn leaves the dry grass brigh…

PEOPLE that I meet and pass In the city’s broken roar, Faces that I lose so soon And have never found before, Do you know how much you tell

What do I owe to you Who loved me deep and long? You never gave my spirit wings Or gave my heart a song. But oh, to him I loved

(The daughter of Sappho) When the dusk was wet with dew, Cleïs, did the muses nine Listen in a silent line While your mother sang to you?

There is no lord within my heart, Left silent as an empty shrine Where rose and myrtle intertwine, Within a place apart. No god is there of carven stone

I sang a song at dusking time Beneath the evening star, And Terence left his latest rhyme To answer from afar. Pierrot laid down his lute to weep…

I am afraid, oh I am so afraid! The cold black fear is clutching m… As long ago when they would take t… And leave the little child who wou… Frozen and sleepless at the though…

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

I hid the love within my heart, And lit the laughter in my eyes, That when we meet he may not know My love that never dies. But sometimes when he dreams at ni…

Beside an ebbing northern sea While stars awaken one by one, We walk together, I and he. He woos me with an easy grace That proves him only half sincere;

I sang my songs for the rest, For you I am still; The tree of my song is bare On its shining hill. For you came like a lordly wind,