If the life would but lengthen to wish, let the mind be laid bare.
So I said, ‘To do little is bad, to do nothing is worse’–
And made verse.
Love-making,–how simple a matter! No depths to explore,
No heights in a life to ascend! No disheartening Before,
No affrighting Hereafter,–love now will be love ever more.
So I felt ‘To keep silence were folly:’–all language above,
I made love.
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I can hardly misconceive you; it would prove me deaf and blind;But although I take your meaning, ’tis with such a heavy mind!II.Here you come with all your music, and here’s all the good it brings.What, they lived once thus at Venice where the merchants were the kings,Where Saint Mark’s is, where the Doges used…
All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee:
In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea:Breath and bloom, shade and shine, wonder, wealth, and–how far above them–Truth, that’s brighter than gem,Trust, that’s purer than pearl,–Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe–all were for meIn the kiss of one girl
Never any more,
Need I hope to see his faceAs before.Once his love grown chill,Mine may strive:Bitterly we re-embrace,Single still.II.Was it something said,Something done,Vexed him? was it touch of hand,Turn of head?Strange! that very wayLove begun:I as little understandLove’s decay.III.When I sewed or drew,I recallHow he looked as if I sung,—Sweetly too.If I spoke a word,First of allUp…
I.
As one at first believes?Hark, ’tis the sparrows’ good-night twitterAbout your cottage eaves!II.And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly,I noticed that, to-day;One day more bursts them open fully—You know the red turns grey.III.To-morrow we meet the same then, dearest?May I take your hand in mine?Mere friends are we,—well, friends the merestKeep much that I…
.
As I have felt since, hand in hand,We sat down on the grass, to strayIn spirit better through the land,This morn of Rome and May?II.For me, I touched a thought, I know,Has tantalized me many times,(Like turns of thread the spiders throwMocking across our path) for rhymesTo catch at and let go.III.Help me to hold…
(_Epilogue to ‘The Two Poets of Croisic.’_)
Once upon a time–Said you found it somewhere (scold me!)Was it prose or was it rhyme,Greek or Latin? Greek, you said,While your shoulder propped my head.Anyhow there’s no forgettingThis much if no more,That a poet (pray, no petting!)Yes, a bard, sir, famed of yore,Went where suchlike used to go,Singing for a prize, you know.Well, he…