Ah, do you know?

Was it some golden star
Hot with romance?
Was it in Malabar,
Italy, France?
Did we know Charlemagne,
Dido, perchance?

But you were a queen, and I
Fought for you then:
How did you honour me--
More than all men!
Kissed me upon the lips;
Kiss me again.

Have you forgotten it,
All that we said?
I still remember though
Ages have fled.
Whisper the word of life,--
"Love is not dead."

I HEARD THE DESERT CALLING

I heard the desert calling, and my heart stood still--
There was winter in my world and in my heart;
A breath came from the mesa, and a message stirred my will,
And my soul and I arose up to depart.

I heard the desert calling, and I knew that over there
In an olive-sheltered garden where the mesquite grows,
Was a woman of the sunrise with the star-shine in her hair
And a beauty that the almond-blossom blows.

In the night-time when the ghost-trees glimmered in the moon,
Where the mesa by the water-course was spanned,
Her loveliness enwrapped me like the blessedness of June,
And all my life was thrilling in her hand.

I hear the desert calling, and my heart stands still--
There is summer in my world, and in my heart;
A breath comes from the mesa, and a will beyond my will
Binds my footsteps as I rise up to depart.

THE FORGOTTEN WORD

Once in the twilight of the Austrian hills,
A word came to me, wonderful and good;
If I had spoken it--that message of the stars--
Love would have filled thy blood;
Love would have sent thee pulsing to my arms,
Laughing with joy, thy heart a nestling bird
An instant passed--it fled; and now I seek in vain
For that forgotten word.

WHAT WILL IT MATTER?

What will this matter, dear, when you and I