I’m Judith, and Jael, and Madame de Stael;
I’m Salome, moon of the East.
Here in my soul I am Sappho;
Lady Hamilton am I, as well.
In me Recamier vies with Kitty O’Shea,
With Dido, and Eve, and poor Nell.
I’m of the glamorous ladies
At whose beckoning history shook.
But you are a man, and see only my pan,
So I stay at home with a book.
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Too long and quickly have I lived to vow
Too often seen the end of endless painTo swear that peace no more shall cool my brow.I know, I know- again the shriveled boughWill burgeon sweetly in the gentle rain,And these hard lands be quivering with grain-I tell you only: it is Winter now.What if I know, before the Summer goesWhere dwelt this bitter frenzy…
She that begs a little boon
Little gets- and nothing, soon.(No, no, no! No, no, no!)She that calls for costly thingsPriceless finds her offerings-What’s impossible to kings?(Heel and toe! Heel and toe!)Kings are shaped as other men.(Step and turn! Step and turn!)Ask what none may ask again.(Will you learn? Will you learn?)Lovers whine, and kisses pall,Jewels tarnish, kingdoms fall-Death’s the rarest…
‘So surely is she mine,’ you say, and turn
To bills and bonds and talk of what men earn-And whistle up the stair, of evenings.And do you see a dream behind my eyes,Or ask a simple question twice of me-‘Thus women are,’ you say; for men are wiseAnd tolerant, in their security.How shall I count the midnights I have knownWhen calm you turn to…
If she had been beautiful, even,
Or had moved with a certain defiance;If she had had sons at her sides,And she with her hands on their shoulders,Sons, to make troubled the Gods-But where was there wonder in her?What had she, better or eviler,Whose days were a pattering of peasFrom the pod to the bowl in her lap?That the pine tree is…
No more my little song comes back;
My head on down, to watch the blackAnd wait the unfailing gray.Oh, sad are winter nights, and slow;And sad’s a song that’s dumb;And sad it is to lie and knowAnother dawn will come.
In youth, it was a way I had
And change, with every passing lad,To suit his theories.But now I know the things I know,And do the things I do;And if you do not like me so,To hell, my love, with you!