Hiss through the billows seething white,
Fling the rock-surf in spray on high.
Hurl the high seas on harbour bars,
Madden them with thy havock-shriek
Against the crimson beacon-stars —
Thy rage no more can make me weak.
The ship rides safely in the bay,
The ship that held my hope in her —
Whirl on, wild wind, in thy wild fray,
We hear our whispers through the stir.
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The thrush that, yet alone, pipes for his mate
Knows she’ll be she his tiny soul loves best;‘Tis love-time at the hawthorn blossom’s date:And the new flower-cups bare their hearts and waitWhile careless breezes bring them love for guest;And Youth laughs ready for the glad unrest;But Love that chooses lingers desolate.And I, who seek, and yearn for love to stir,And I, who seek, and…
No not to-night, dear child; I cannot go;
you do not need me there. Dear, be content,and take your pleasure; you shall tell me of it.There, go to don your miracles of gauze,and come and show yourself a great pink cloud.So, she has gone with half a discontent;but it will die before her curls are shaped,and she’ll go forth intent on being pleased,and…
OH God, where hast thou hidden Truth? Oh Truth,
Lo, we, that should be old, have learned our youth;We are not manly ripe; we have not dowerOf all the wisdom that a world can gainIn the centuries of work, peace, war, hope, pain;We are not strong with all the gathered powerFrom age to age left our inheritance;We stand not near the goal, there by…
No, mother, I am not sad:
You remember, even when my heart was most gladAnd you used to let me dream at my will;And now I like better to watch the seaAnd the calm sad sky than to laugh with the rest.You know they are full of chatter and glee,And I like the quietness best.Nay, mother, you look so grave.I know…
DEAD, my beloved! This small purple weed
To ripen and to wane, to bloom and seed;But thou, strong doer, mightst not wait thy deed,But thou, oh noblest, mightst not wait thy meed:Dead in thy prime!Gone, my beloved! I that held thine handLeft sudden in a joyless waste alone!I tossing on life’s sea, and thou to standHidden in the shadows of the silent…
YOUNG May sat fainting and chill,
She looked and hated the sky,Yet knew not what was her ill.Ah well-a-day!For the lonely May.She tired of weeping, and slept;Who woke her up but the Sun?And joy and love had begunTo teach her why she had weptOh bright new dayFor the startled May!