If cool my heart and high my head,
I think, ‘How lucky are the dead! ‘
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This level reach of blue is not my sea;
Whose quiet ripples meet obedientlyA marked and measured line, one after one.This is no sea of mine. that humbly lavesUntroubled sands, spread glittering and warm.I have a need of wilder, crueler waves;They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.So let a love beat over me again,Loosing its million desperate breakers wide;Sudden and terrible to…
A single flow’r he sent me, since we met.
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet –One perfect rose.I knew the language of the floweret;‘My fragile leaves,’ it said, ‘his heart enclose.’Love long has taken for his amuletOne perfect rose.Why is it no one ever sent me yetOne perfect limousine, do you suppose?Ah no, it’s always just my luck to getOne perfect rose.
Let another cross his way-
Little need I fear he’ll straySince I have his heart in keeping-Let another hail him dear-Little chance that he’ll forget me!Only need I curse and fearHer he loved before he met me.
The ladies men admire, I’ve heard,
Their candle gives a single light;They’d rather stay at home at night.They do not keep awake till three,Nor read erotic poetry.They never sanction the impure,Nor recognize an overture.They shrink from powders and from paints …So far, I’ve had no complaints.
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
And love is a thing that can never go wrong;And I am Marie of Roumania.
You are brief and frail and blue-
You are Heaven’s masterpieces-Little loves, the likeness ceases.