A half-hour more and you will lean To gather me close in the old swee… But oh, to the woman over the sea Who will come at the close of day? A half-hour more and I will hear

Lyric night of the lingering Indi… Shadowy fields that are scentless… Never a bird, but the passionless… Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper’s horn, and far of…

Impassioned singer of the happy ti… When all the world was waking into… And dew still glistened on the tan… And lingered on the branches of th… Oh peerless singer of the golden r…

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

As kings, seeing their lives about… Take off the heavy ermine and the… So had the trees that autumn-time… Their golden garments on the dying… When I, who watched the seasons i…

I am not sorry for my soul That it must go unsatisfied, For it can live a thousand times, Eternity is deep and wide. I am not sorry for my soul,

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…

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…

It is not a word spoken, Few words are said; Nor even a look of the eyes Nor a bend of the head, But only a hush of the heart

I’m happy, I’m happy, I saw my love to-day. He came along the crowded street, By all the ladies gay, And oh, he smiled and spoke to me

The northern woods are delicately… The lake is folded softly by the s… But I am restless for the subway’… The thunder and the hurrying of fe… I try to sleep, but still my eyeli…

Francesca’s life that was a limpid… Agleam against the shimmer of a sw… Which falling, quenched the flame… To free the house of Rimino from… Francesca’s death that blazed alof…

The darkened street was muffled wi… The falling flakes had made your s… And when we found a shelter from t… Its glamor fell upon us like a blo… The clash of dishes and the viol a…

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,

(To Eleonora Duse) We are anhungered after solitude, Deep stillness pure of any speech… Soft quiet hovering over pools pro… The silences that on the desert br…