aken,
The bluebird flecks the sky;
Ah, breath of bloom-bright heather,
Ah, golden Maytime weather,
We drift in dreams together--
Together, you and I.

The Heights of Silence

(Transcribed from "The Choir Invisible.")

Above the valleys, peopled, fair and warm,
Rise the bleak, silent uplands where abide
Wraiths of lost loves, love's recompense denied,
Unspoken, unconfessed, unsatisfied....
Cold, silent heights, engirt with zones of storm,
Where Love for aye unmated must abide.

The broad, sweet downward vistas of the flesh
Stretch fair and far; the calm white spirit-height
Is lone and chill; there dimly shines the light
Of sun and star that burns and beacons bright
Where Sin spreads still her guiling, glitt'ring mesh.
Ah, warm the valley! Lone and chill the height!

Yet he who wins the height's sublimity--
The silent height where loves unlived abide,
Loves stainless, sublimated, purified--
Shall glimpse that land, to grosser view denied,
Where love and longing infinite shall be
Or ever stilled--or ever satisfied.

Andromeda

Bound ever to a great grey rock of Doom,
Striving with futile hands to rive the chain
Of woven fear, distrust and subtle pain,
While gaunt wolf-waves that leap from out the gloom
Of doubt's cold sea are snarling at my feet,
As nearer writhes the dragon of Despair
Foul with dank horrors of his caverned lair,
And like a clock of doom the dark tides beat....
I lift my eyes; Lo! sudden sweeps along
Thought's empyrean and the vast of dreams
One star-browed, Jove-like, human-orbed; meseems
His feet are winged with music, shod with song;
Ah, Perseus, should'st thou, pitying, leave the sky
To loose my bonds--then all the fear were gone,
Soul touching soul, trust from distrust were won,
Like god and goddess 'fronted, thou and I;
Despair were slain, closed the unequal strife,
Thy great soul's strength should make weak purpose strong,
Thy hand should lead me up the slopes of Song,
Thy winged feet guide me to the peaks of Life!

Requital

What tho' you loved me once? Man's love at best
Is but a mood--the fancy of an hour,
You held all faith and truth a theme for jest,
Love's recompense, a smile. You knew your power.

What tho' you loved me then? You went away
And left my life an arid waste of pain;
And now--your best years spent, your idols clay--
You stretch imploring arms to me again.

What tho' you love me