Chapter 4
It's lots of fun to play around, To dance and sing; And not be tied to anyone, Or anything!
It's lots of fun to live my life, Beneath the sky; To have no one who owns the right To question "Why"?
It's lots of fun to come and go, Through storm and strife, With no one by my side who hopes To mould my life.
(But sometimes at the twilight time, When night birds cry; I dream, perhaps, that something fair Has passed me by!)
And yet--it's good to play around, To laugh and sing; And not be tied to anyone, Or anything!
VALENTINE
I wonder if you know, up there in heaven, That I have kept your roses, crumpled now. I wonder if you guess that still I treasure A faded ribbon that once touched your brow. I wonder if you dream, as dusk is falling, Of how I read that note you sent to me. I wonder if you think, up there in heaven, Of all the golden days that used to be.
I wonder if you smile up there in heaven, And pass by, lightly, in your robes of white; Or if you sometimes think of me a little. You seem so near, so very near tonight. I wonder if that last shy kiss I gave you Can make you lonely, just a bit, for me. I wonder if you long, up there in heaven, For all the golden plans that used to be.
Do they have valentines up there in heaven? A love like mine is surely strong to go The little way from earth to where you wait me, Although it be beyond the stars' faint glow. I want you dear; my tired heart is calling; My eyes are searching, though they may not see; I wonder if you're lonely, there in heaven, For all the golden dreams that used to be.
THE SACRIFICE
I started out in a cloak of pride, With talent, too, that I did not hide; I started out on Life's stony road, Ambition's weight was my only load, And the way seemed fair in the dawn's first glow, And I hurried--ran--FOR I DID NOT KNOW!
Love smiled from a garden by the way, And called to me, but I would not stray From the road that stretched like a ribbon white, Up endless hills to an endless night. Love smiled at me, but I pushed ahead, And love fell back in the garden--dead-- But I did not care as I hastened by, And I did not pause for regret or sigh.... The road before was a path of hope, And every hill with its gentle slope Led up to heights I had dreamed and prayed To reach some day-- Ah! I might have stayed With Love and Youth in the garden gay, That smiled at me from beside the way.
I plodded up, and the gentle hills Grew hard to climb, and the laughing rills Were torrents peopled with sodden forms; The sky grew black with the threat of storms, And rocks leaped out and they bruised my feet, And faint I grew in the fever heat. (But ever on led the path that lay As grey as dust in the waning day.) My back was bent, and my heart was sore, And the cloak of pride that I grandly wore Was rent and patched and not fair to see-- Ambition, talent, seemed naught to me.... But I struggled on 'till I reached the top, FOR ONLY THEN DID I DARE TO STOP!
I stood on the summit gazing down, And the earth looked sordid and dull and brown, And neutral-tinted and neutral-souled; And all of life seemed a story told, And the only spot that was bright to see Was a patch of green that had bloomed for me Where a garden lived in a spring long fled, When Love stood smiling-- BUT LOVE WAS DEAD!
TO A CERTAIN ROOM
Your room is still the dainty little place, That used to seem so much a part of you-- The draperies of faded rose and blue Still hold a shadow of their former grace. The windows still are hung with frosty lace, And sometimes, when the moonlight glimmers through, I watch your mirror, half expecting to See once again, reflected there, your face!
And yet, the little room seems much too neat, It seems quite colorless, and very bare, Because the filmy things you used to wear Are laid away. Because the perfume sweet That clung about you has been swept aside.... Your room is there--but, oh, its soul has died!
OTHER DAYS
I wonder if you ever dream of other days, Because, sometimes, at twilight when the sunset plays Half wistfully across the polished oaken floor, I see you smiling--standing in your place once more.
(Do you remember little things we used to say? They wouldn't mean so very much to us to-day.... Do you remember how I wore a gown of blue, Because it brought the haze of autumn clouds to you? Do you remember how I said you didn't care-- And how you laughed at me and rumpled up my hair? Do you remember how the tears stood in my eyes At your good-by when darkness overhung the skies?)
I wonder if you ever dream of other days? Because, sometimes at twilight when the sunset plays Half wistfully across your empty cozy-chair, I turn and half expect to see you smiling there!
THIS IS TO YOU, DEAR, TO YOU, UNKNOWING; JUST AS THE SOUTH WIND WISTFULLY BLOWING TOUCHES SOME FLOWER--
SO IS MY SONG, DEAR, THROUGH EVERY HOUR, ALL THE DAY LONG, DEAR, TO YOU, UNKNOWING!
AT TWILIGHT
You came to me through the candlelight, When the world, outside, was grey.... You came to me through the candlelight When the day was done, and the misty night Crept through the land. And your eyes were bright, And they seemed to laugh and pray. You came to me through the candlelight, And you took my hands, and you held them tight, And you didn't speak, but, dear, I KNEW-- And my heart and my soul were part of you.
You came to me through the candlelight, When the world, outside, was grey; And I looked in your eyes and, glowing there, I saw a hope and I read a prayer; And I knew, at last, that I didn't care, If life were a troubled, weary way, As long as I walked with you. You came to me, at the close of day, Through the candlelight--when the world was grey-- And dreams of Heaven seemed strangely new.... And I told you, dear, to stay!
THERE ARE SUCH WEARY LITTLE LINES
There are such weary little lines about the mouth of you, Such tragic little mirthless lines--they mock at dreams come true, And twist your lips when you would smile, until all joy is dead, And I, who want to laugh with you, am fain to weep instead!
There are such dreary little lines about the mouth of you, They make me want to whisper that summer sky is blue, And that the rain is like a lance of silver through the air, And that the flowers in the lane are growing tall and fair!
There are such tired little lines about the mouth of you-- As if you thought that life was cold and loving friends were few.... They are such lonely little lines I think that I, some day, Will creep close to you in the dusk, and kiss them quite away!
THREE SONGS OF AWAKENING
1.
The flowers spring from the broken heart, Of the frozen winter sod-- Rending their prison bars apart, They smile in the face of God!
The birds sweep up to the wind-blown plain, E'er ever the land knows spring; To sway on a budding branch again, To challenge the world, and sing!
And I with my tired eyes a-dance, And my weary heart a-flame; Have felt the call of the old romance, And thrilled to a whispered name!
2.
I saw a sky as blue as eyes I know, I felt a breeze, as soft as kisses, blow; And, dear, I saw one golden sunbeam creep From Heaven, lighting all the world below, Like love that wakens, dewy-eyed, from sleep!
3.
We who have wondered know the answer, now; For Spring stands, joyous, on the purple brow Of the far hill; and doubt is swept away, And all the mirth-mad world makes holiday!
We who have wandered long, and half afraid, Find answer in each dreaming woodland glade; HEARTS THAT HAVE BROKEN MAY BE BOUND TOGETHER, WHEN SPRING HAS TRIUMPHED OVER WINTER WEATHER!
IN A CANOE
Starlight, and the silver lake Clasp the skies-- And two nearer, dearer stars, Your eyes!
Elfin voices seem to call Through the night, But your arms are warm, and they Hold me tight.
Pallidly the moon slides down, Hour by hour slips; Ah, the deathless magic of Your lips!
Dark the shadows as we creep Past the shore-- Dear, that we might drift like this Evermore!
CAPTIVE-HEART
Now that the day is done I am ready to greet you, Smiling, the way that I know you would have me smile; I will open the door, and will run down the walk to meet you, As if I had missed you, dear, for a weary while! I will listen, breathless, the while you tell of your toiling, All day long in the dust and the city's heat; And, dear, you will never know that my blood is boiling-- Back of the smile that is calm and tenderly sweet.
You will never know that the soul of me, dear, is flying, Out where the seagull dips in the ocean's foam; You will never know that something of me is dying, Every night as I smile and welcome you home. You will never know that my heart is soaring above you-- You will be content with my mask of a smile-- KNOWING I LOVE YOU!
EVENING SONG
I do not want to be worshipped, From a distance; Like some idol carved in wood, Or stone. I want to be loved As every real woman Wants to be loved!
And so.... Lay aside the book that you are reading from-- What if Leander did swim the Hellespont? And what if burning Sappho Did sing? What do I care for Launcelot and Elaine, Or Tristram and Isolt, Or Aucassin and Nicholette?
Lay aside the book that you are reading from, And cross the room quickly, And take my cold hands between your two Warmer ones.... And here, in the vivid dusk, We will make our own love songs!
AFTER A DAY OF WAITING
All day long I waited--waited with soul aflame-- And then through the still of evening, humming a tune, you came; Came with a jest on your smiling lips, and eyes that were all too gay; And the light died out of my waiting heart with the words that I could not say.
We laughed through the star-flecked twilight--what though my laugh was strained? You, who were there beside me, laughed with a mirth unfeigned! And at last when I bade you leave me you went, and you never knew That with soul aflame I had waited, all through the day, for you.
INTANGIBLE
Dear, you are like the summer dusk to me, The summer dusk when all the world seems still; When purple shadows creep along the hill, And birds are softly crooning in each tree. You are the gentle-cool-eyed mystery Of twilight hours. Sometime I think you will Melt from me out into the dark, until You turn to star-shine, silvering the sea.
Dear, even when your head is on my breast, You seem no nearer than a moonbeam thrown Across my heart. Your fingers have caressed My hair so lightly that I scarce have known Their pressure. You are like that time when rest Steals up so softly that one feels alone!
AT FIRST SIGHT
Seeing you once, how can I forget That our eyes have smiled and our hands have met? That our souls have known and our hearts have cried, Though our lips were dumb. Ah, the world is wide, And love there is for us both to know-- But my eyes were dim as I watched you go!
You may wander far, you may come no more, But you hold the key to the inmost door Of my heart of hearts! For our hands have met, And our eyes have smiled, and I CAN'T FORGET!
FIVE SONNETS
I. THE COMING
I know that Love will come to me, some day, Though I have never loved, or looked on Love; I know that Love will wait beside the way And smile at me. The tender skies above Will be alight with all the joy of spring, And flowers will life their heads above the earth, And some far bird will stay its flight and sing, And fill the land with silver throated mirth.
I know that Love, at last, with smiling eyes, Will pause beside my half-swung cottage door, And I will lift my gaze, without surprise, To see his shadow dance across the floor. I know that Love will come to me, some day, When springtime blossoms, shyly, into May!
II. REALIZATION
I know that you are not the one that I Should fall in love with, for your eyes are blind To all the things that make my world the kind I want to live in. Often, when I cry At some vague beauty that has caught my eye, You laugh! You cannot dream the dreams I find, In forest places where dim pathways wind Up to the Heaven-land so far and high.
I know that I should never learn to care, And yet, sometimes the blueness of your eyes Can make me half forget the smiling skies.... And, when I see the sunlight on your hair, I do not stop to reason, dear, for oh-- My heart throbs faster, and I know--I know!
III. THE RAIN OUTSIDE
You close beside me, and outside, the rain, Which, stealing through the darkness of the night, Seems tapping out with fingers softly light, A world-old song upon my window pane-- A song of happiness with a refrain That throbs in suffering. You hold me tight, Your eyes, that search my own, are warmly bright, Your lips touch mine again, and yet again!
Ah, what though years must pass, though you and I May live our lives, quite silently, apart? Whenever rain comes, when the day is through, And, tapping on my casement, seems to sigh, A dream will blossom, fragrant, in my heart, A dream of youth eternal, and of--you.
IV. I USED TO WRITE
I used to write so many songs of love-- I wrote them carefully, I did not know That love was more than moonlight from above, And pretty words set in an even row, I held my pencil calmly in my hand, And sang of arms and lips and tender eyes; I wrote of love--who did not understand-- And hoped that folk would think me very wise!
I used to write so many songs... To-day My hands are folded, and I cannot sing, I sit, instead, and watch the sunlight stray Across my desk. And I am wondering If God, who lights a million stars each night, Laughed at the groping words I tried to write!
V. MOON-GLOW
I wonder if, dim centuries ago, We watched the moon together, on some night When stars hung very near, and softly bright? I wonder if my tired head drooped low Against your breast? And if you seemed to know (As you know now) the dreams that, like a light, Shone in my soul? For, dear, it seems so right-- So very right that you should hold me so!
Here, in the moonlight, there is nothing new, The very arms that crush me to your heart, Seem almost like a memory, a part Of some vague yesterday that has come true-- I feel tonight as if I, dear, might start A journey back, across the years, with you!
FORGIVEN
You left me when the weary weight of sorrow Lay, like a stone, upon my bursting heart; It seemed as if no shimmering tomorrow Could dry the tears that you had caused to start. You left me, never telling why you wandered-- Without a word, without a last caress; Left me with but the love that I had squandered, The husks of love and a vast loneliness.
And yet if you came back with arms stretched toward me, Came back to-night, with carefree, smiling eyes, And said: "My journeying has somehow bored me, And love, though broken, never, never dies!" I would forget the wounded heart you gave me, I would forget the bruises on my soul. My old-time gods would rise again to save me, My dreams would grow supremely new and whole. What though youth lay, a tattered garment, o'er you? Warm words would leap upon my lips, long dumb; If you came back, with arms stretched out before you, AND TOLD ME, DEAR, THAT YOU WERE GLAD TO COME!
THE WRITING
Sometimes a mist of sunlight across a stranger's hair, Sometimes the vague expression upon a stranger's face, Can make me feel your presence--can fill a lonely place With dreams of life half realized. Faint music through the air Can make me hear your foot-fall, again, upon the stair-- Sometimes a dancer moving with quite unconscious grace, Can make my pulse beat faster; and for a breathless space Can make me turn, expecting to find you standing there!
You have not gone! The passing of every empty day Has only brought you nearer. Those things that were a part Of all we planned together are bits of you that stay, To bruise my soul as sharply as any flame-tipped dart. Ah, time may hold its healing--but years that pass away Cannot erase the writing you traced upon my heart!
AT PARTING
Love of my life, the time has come for parting-- For, dearest, I must leave you while we care! Leave you while tears of vain regret are starting, While I can look at you and find you fair. Could we endure a morn of bitter waking, Could we accept a love that would seem less? Dear, I must go the while my heart is breaking-- Go while my world is filled with happiness.
Love of my soul, our dream has been so flaming, That, if we waited, it might smoulder down-- Leaving dead ashes only, ashes shaming All that was vivid--ashes dimly brown. We will have memories as sweet as flowers, We who have left, untouched, Fate's cup of woe; Kiss me once more to bridge life's aching hours-- Love of my heart--the time has come to go!
WHEN I AM OLD--
When I am old and drenched in worlds of sadness, And wear a lacy cap upon my head; When, looking past the future's singing gladness, I linger, wistful, in the years long dead. When I am old, and young folk all about me, Speak softly of religion, WHEN THEY SPEAK, When parties are a grand success without me; And when my laugh is fluttering and weak--
Will I then be content to raise my glances, Serenely to the cloud-entangled sky? And will I be content to watch at dances, Without a heartbreak, as the hours pass by? Or when I see young lovers' fingers twine, WILL I REMEMBER, DEAR, YOUR LIPS ON MINE?
THE REFUGE
We hurried, once, down the purple road, When a storm hung low in the sky; And we gained the door of Love's abode As the silver rain flashed by. Our steps rang out as we crossed the sill, And the place was dimly bright, And even our hearts seemed strangely still, While our searching hands clasped tight.
We waited there while the wind moaned past And the thunder crashed in the air; And the door of Love's abode blew fast, But we didn't know--or care! For we heard a song in the driving rain, And the sky seemed warmly gray; And the tempest rang with a mad refrain, And the world seemed years away. . . . . . . . . .
We have wandered far from the road of dreams, We have crept from the house of love; And the scorching sun of the noonday gleams From the pitiless sky above. But once, ah, once--in that dusky place, When the lightning flashed through the air, I saw its flame on your upturned face, And its glow on your vivid hair.
We have strayed away--we have strayed away-- For the world is all too wide.... But once I came through the stormy day, And you walked, proud, at my side. AND, OH, FOR THE FEEL OF THE RAIN AGAIN, AND, OH, FOR THE PURPLE ROAD, AND, OH, FOR THE JOY AND THE PAIN AGAIN, THAT WE KNEW IN LOVE'S ABODE!
TO DREAM ALONE....
How long the days may seem, how long each night, (And yet, how short the evenings used to be!) How strange it is that I can never see, Warm pictures in the hearth that glows so bright. We used to watch the laughing firelight, And build dream castles in it--Ah, but we Built castles everywhere! And now the sea Is swept between us. You have gone to fight.
And I--I wait and try to dream alone, And try to smile, to dance and laugh and sing; And, somehow, cannot think of anything, But just the thrilling roughness of your tone, The light that lights your eyes, your lips that cling, And love--the flame of love that we have known!
NOW I MAY SING OF SADNESS....
Knowing, dear, that my whole heart lies at rest Deep in the heart of you, I may sing a song Telling the tale of bitterness and wrong.... Knowing, dear, that my head lay on your breast Only last night, I may sing of dreams that died, And hopes that never were born, and faith betrayed, Of weary feet that have left the road and strayed Out of the narrow way, to pastures wide.
Dear, when my songs were gay, I did not know Whether you cared. And so I had to sing Gladly, to mask grim fear--I had to bring Sunlight to point the path that I must go! Now that the clouds are silver sweet above, I may sing songs of sadness. I am blessed Knowing, dear, that my whole heart lies at rest, Knowing, dear, that I have your love--your love!
KNOWING THAT YOU HAVE WALKED HER MUDDY ROADS WEARILY, AFTER BITTER TIMES OF FIGHTING; KNOWING THAT YOU HAVE CARRIED HEAVY LOADS OVER HER HILLS--WHILE I, AT HOME, WAS LIGHTING DIM YELLOW CANDLES ON THE MANTEL SHELF.... KNOWING YOU SUFFERED AGONY AND LOSS, UNDER THE VERY SHADOW OF A CROSS-- FRANCE HOLDS A BIT OF YOU--AND OF MYSELF!
WHEN WAR CAME
War came, one day, and drew us close together, Although it swept us many miles apart; The love that lay as lightly as a feather, Now rests, a precious weight, upon my heart. And all the dreams I dreamed for just the dreaming, Have taken on a meaning that is new; And somehow all the lonely world is seeming, To cry aloud my aching need of you!