Part 6 (1/2)

For tho' I know he loves me, To-night my heart is sad; His kiss was not so wonderful As all the dreams I had.

November

The world is tired, the year is old, The little leaves are glad to die, The wind goes s.h.i.+vering with cold Among the rushes dry.

Our love is dying like the gra.s.s, And we who kissed grow coldly kind, Half glad to see our poor love pa.s.s Like leaves along the wind.

A Song of the Princess

The princess has her lovers, A score of knights has she, And each can sing a madrigal, And praise her gracefully.

But Love that is so bitter Hath put within her heart A longing for the scornful knight Who silent stands apart.

And tho' the others praise and plead, She maketh no reply, Yet for a single word from him, I ween that she would die.

The Wind

A wind is blowing over my soul, I hear it cry the whole night thro'-- Is there no peace for me on earth Except with you?

Alas, the wind has made me wise, Over my naked soul it blew,-- There is no peace for me on earth Even with you.

A Winter Night

My window-pane is starred with frost, The world is bitter cold to-night, The moon is cruel and the wind Is like a two-edged sword to smite.

G.o.d pity all the homeless ones, The beggars pacing to and fro.

G.o.d pity all the poor to-night Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.

My room is like a bit of June, Warm and close-curtained fold on fold, But somewhere, like a homeless child, My heart is crying in the cold.

The Metropolitan Tower

We walked together in the dusk To watch the tower grow dimly white, And saw it lift against the sky Its flower of amber light.