When the long day goes by And I do not see your face, The old wild, restless sorrow Steals from its hiding place. My day is barren and broken,

The princess has her lovers, A score of knights has she, And each can sing a madrigal, And praise her gracefully. But Love that is so bitter

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,

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…

Oh Loves there are that enter in, And Loves there are that wait, And Loves that sit a-weeping Whose joy will come too late. For some there be that ope their d…

You took my empty dreams And filled them every one With tenderness and nobleness, April and the sun. The old empty dreams

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…

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

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…

The fountain shivers lightly in th… The laurels drip, the fading roses… The marble satyr plays a mournful… That leaves the rainy fragrance mu… Oh dripping laurel, Phoebus sacre…

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…

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…

Like barley bending In low fields by the sea, Singing in hard wind Ceaselessly; Like barley bending

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…

Beneath my chamber window Pierrot was singing, singing; I heard his lute the whole night t… Until the east was red. Alas, alas Pierrot,