To-night my heart is sad;
His kiss was not so wonderful
As all the dreams I had.
November
The world is tired, the year is old,
The little leaves are glad to die,
The wind goes shivering with cold
Among the rushes dry.
Our love is dying like the grass,
And we who kissed grow coldly kind,
Half glad to see our poor love pass
Like leaves along the wind.
A Song of the Princess
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
Hath put within her heart
A longing for the scornful knight
Who silent stands apart.
And tho' the others praise and plead,
She maketh no reply,
Yet for a single word from him,
I ween that she would die.
The Wind
A wind is blowing over my soul,
I hear it cry the whole night thro'--
Is there no peace for me on earth
Except with you?
Alas, the wind has made me wise,
Over my naked soul it blew,--
There is no peace for me on earth
Even with you.
A Winter Night
My window-pane is starred with frost,
The world is bitter cold to-night,
The moon is cruel and the wind
Is like a two-edged sword to smite.
God pity all the homeless ones,
The beggars pacing to and fro.
God pity all the poor to-night
Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.
My room is like a bit of June,
Warm and close-curtained fold on fold,
But somewhere, like a homeless child,
My heart is crying in the cold.
The Metropolitan Tower
We walked together in the dusk
To watch the tower grow dimly white,
And saw it lift against the sky
Its flower of amber light.
You talked of half a hundred things,
I kept each little word you said;
And when at last the hour was full,
I saw the light turn red.
You did not know the time had come,
You did not see the sudden flower,
Nor know that in my heart Love's birth
Was reckoned from that hour.
Gramercy Park
For W. P.
The little park was filled with peace,
The walks were carpeted with snow,
But every iron gate was locked.
Lest if we entered, peace would go.
We circled it a dozen times,
The wind was blowing from the sea,
I only felt your restless eyes
Whose love was like a cloak for me.
Oh heavy gates that fate has locked
To bar the joy we may not win,
Peace would go out forevermore
If we should dare to enter in.
In the Metropolitan Museu
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