Part 34 (1/2)

Think of the years that he has had to wait.

~But if I let Love in I shall be late.

Another has come first -- there is no room.

And I am thoughtful of the endless loom -- Let Love be patient, the importunate.~

O Life, be idle and let Love come in, And give thy dreamy hair that Love may spin.

~But Love himself is idle with his song.

Let Love come last, and then may Love last long.~

Be patient, Life, for Love is not the last.

Be patient now with Death, for Love has pa.s.sed.

Song. [Margaret Widdemer]

The Spring will come when the year turns, As if no Winter had been, But what shall I do with a locked heart That lets no new year in?

The birds will go when the Fall goes, The leaves will fade in the field, But what shall I do with an old love Will neither die nor yield?

Oh! youth will turn as the world turns, And dim grow laughter and pain, But how shall I hide from an old dream I never may dream again?

The Bitter Herb. [Jeanne Robert Foster]

O bitter herb, Forgetfulness, I search for you in vain; You are the only growing thing Can take away my pain.

When I was young, this bitter herb Grew wild on every hill; I should have plucked a store of it, And kept it by me still.

I hunt through all the meadows Where once I wandered free, But the rare herb, Forgetfulness, It hides away from me.

O bitter herb, Forgetfulness, Where is your drowsy breath?

Oh, can it be your seed has blown Far as the Vales of Death?

Behind the House is the Millet Plot. [Muna Lee]

Behind the house is the millet plot, And past the millet, the stile; And then a hill where melilot Grows with wild camomile.

There was a youth who bade me goodby Where the hill rises to meet the sky.

I think my heart broke; but I have forgot All but the smell of the white melilot.