Hot with the ardour of the sun,
Whose burning lips had slain the noon,
The golden pallor of the moon
Was but an added fire, o'ercome
With memories she swooned away,
While I, grown weary with the day
Sought on my balcony to find
Some solace for my groping mind,
But lo! the awful night was fraught
With anguish, from the noontide caught;
The dark was breathless, and the skies
Filled with a thousand prying eyes
But scoffed to see my soul's despair,
And flung me back my tortured prayer.
SPRING HOPES
SONG
Dear, perchance 'neath the frost and snow
One little golden flower is sleeping,
You shall find it, for you will know
Whither at dawn the sun goes peeping.
Come then sweetheart, we two will go
Hand in hand, and a truce to weeping,
If, in spite of the winter's woe,
Safe in Nature's maternal keeping
Under the frost rime and under the snow,
One little primrose is daintily sleeping.
MY CHOICE
I have chosen a hill very solemn and tall,
To shelter me.
I have chosen a home very humble and small,
Where I would be.
I have chosen a wind very fragrant and gay,
To kiss my mouth.
I have chosen a view, stretching ever away,
When I look south.
I have chosen a glow that the sunlight shall bring
When morning calls.
I have chosen a choir of the thrushes to sing
When twilight falls.
I have chosen a shrine where my spirit may pray,
Blessing its birth.
I have chosen a breast where my head I can lay,
Sweet Mother Earth!
IN COUPLES
There are two happy birds in the tree,
There are two happy stars in the sky,
There are two happy waves in the sea,
There are two happy clouds drifting by,
There are two happy mortals, since we
Are together, just you dear, and I.
HOUSE HUNTING
Where shall we make us a cosy home,
Up in a high pine tree?
Suppose the squirrel deserts his nest,
And we could only grow small and rest
Under the twigs, laid so daintily,
Up in the high pine tree!
Where shall we build us a lovely house,
Under the Ocean deep?
Suppose the fishes would swim away,
And leave a palace of coral gay,
With seaweed gardens where moonbeams sleep,
Under the Ocean deep!
Where shall we find an enchanted spot,
Up in the fields of sky?
Suppose the rainbow bends slowly down,
And we walk over to Cloudy Town,
Golden with beams from the morning's eye,
Up in the fields of sky!
How shall we live out our days, we two,
Safely where no harm parts?
Suppose we fetter our lives with love,
More fair than ocean, or skies above,
And learn to dwell in each other's hearts,
Safely where no harm parts.
RE-INCARNATION
Meeting you I felt a thrill,
Strangely sad, and strangely sweet!
Some compelling force of will,
Sprung from sympathies complete,
Sympathies, that rose again
After death's ennobling pain.
ODE TO SAPPHO
If not from Phaon I must hope for ease,
Ah! let me seek it from the raging seas:
To raging seas unpitied I'll remove;
And either cease to live or cease to love.
Ovid's Heroic Epistle, XV.
Immortal Lesbian! canst thou still behold
From some far sphere wherein thy soul doth sing
This earth, that once was thine, while glimmered gold
The joyous beams of youth's forgotten spring?
Can thine unfathomed eyes embrace this sea,
Whose ebb and flow once echoed in thy brain?
Whose tides bear record of thine ecstasy
And thy despair, that in its arms hath lain?
Those love-burnt lips! Can death have quenched their fire?
Whose words oft stir our senses to unrest?
Whose eager ardour caught and held desire,
A searing flame against thy living breast?
Passion-wan Lesbian, in that awful place
Where spirits wander lost without a name
Thou still art Sappho, and thine ardent face
Lights up the gloom with love's enduring flame.
Oh! Goddess, woman, lover, all divine
And yet divinely mortal, where thou art
Comes not as cadence from some song of thine
Each throbbing beat that stirs the human heart?
Canst thou forget us who are still thy friends,
Thy lovers, o'er the cloudy gulf of years?
Who live, and love, and dying make amends
For life's short pleasures thro' death's endless fears?
Once thou didst seek the solace of thy kind,
The madness of a kiss was more to thee
Than Heaven or Hell, the greatness of thy mind
Could not conceive more potent ecstasy!
Life was thy slave, and gave thee of her store
Rich gifts and many, yet with all the pain
Of hopeless longing made thy spirit sore,
E'en thou didst yearn, and couldest not attain.
Oh! Sappho, sister, by that agony
Of soul and body hast thou gained a place
Within each age that shines majestic'ly
Across the world from out the dusk of space.
Not thy deep pleasures, nor thy swiftest joys,
Have made thee thus, immortal and yet dear
To mortal hearts, but that which naught destroys,
The sacred image of thy falling tear.
Beloved Lesbian! we would dare to claim
By that same tear fond union with thy lot;
Yet 'tis enough, if when we breathe thy name
Thy soul but listens, and forgets us not.
INCOMPATIBLE
To-day I hate that bitter creed,
Whereby the groaning soul is taught
That God Almighty finds the need
Of pain, ere true salvation's wrought!
Dear God, who did create the trees,
The scented flowers, the misty view,
The uplands' breezy ecstasies,
The Ocean's iridescent blue,
The arches of the endless sky,
The magic of a day in Spring,
The down upon a butterfly,
The anthem that the skylarks sing.
All perfect growing harmonies,
Each tuneful sound and beauteous sight,
That lifts us from our miseries
To raptures of supreme delight,
Can I believe that Thou hast willed
Each bitter moment I have spent?
Whereby in anguish were fulfilled
Thy hard decrees of punishment?
To-day is June! Since early dawn
My heart has felt the sun's caress,
I bless the hour that I was born
To witness so much loveliness.
And I would have a God of love,
A tender God, who looks and smiles
From some not distant throne above
Upon His fair created miles.
I know not who has placed the thorns
That pierce, on our human brow,
But I would pray on these sweet morns.
Dear God, Oh! Let it not be Thou.