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Day and Night

  In Warsaw in Poland
   Half the world away,
  The one I love best of all
   Thought of me to-day;

  I know, for I went
   Winged as a bird,
  In the wide flowing wind
   His own voice I heard;

  His arms were round me
   In a ferny place,
  I looked in the pool
   And there was his face—

  But now it is night
   And the cold stars say:
  "Warsaw in Poland
   Is half the world away."

Compensation

  I should be glad of loneliness
   And hours that go on broken wings,
  A thirsty body, a tired heart
   And the unchanging ache of things,
  If I could make a single song
   As lovely and as full of light,
  As hushed and brief as a falling star
   On a winter night.

I Remembered

  There never was a mood of mine,
   Gay or heart-broken, luminous or dull,
  But you could ease me of its fever
   And give it back to me more beautiful.

  In many another soul I broke the bread,
   And drank the wine and played the happy guest,
  But I was lonely, I remembered you;
   The heart belongs to him who knew it best.

"Oh You Are Coming"

  Oh you are coming, coming, coming,
   How will hungry Time put by the hours till then?—
  But why does it anger my heart to long so
   For one man out of the world of men?

  Oh I would live in myself only
   And build my life lightly and still as a dream—
  Are not my thoughts clearer than your thoughts
   And colored like stones in a running stream?

  Now the slow moon brightens in heaven,
   The stars are ready, the night is here—
  Oh why must I lose myself to love you,
   My dear?

The Return

  He has come, he is here,
  My love has come home,
  The minutes are lighter
  Than flying foam,
  The hours are like dancers
  On gold-slippered feet,
  The days are young runners
  Naked and fleet—
  For my love has returned,
  He is home, he is here,
  In the whole world no other
  Is dear as my dear!

Gray Eyes

  It was April when you came
   The first time to me,
  And my first look in your eyes
   Was like my first look at the sea.

  We have been together
   Four Aprils now
  Watching for the green
   On the swaying willow bough;

  Yet whenever I turn
   To your gray eyes over me,
  It is as though I looked
   For the first time at the sea.

The Net

  I made you many and many a song,
   Yet never one told all you are—
  It was as though a net of words
   Were flung to catch a star;

  It was as though I curved my hand
   And dipped sea-water eagerly,
  Only to find it lost the blue
   Dark splendor of the sea.

The Mystery

  Your eyes drink of me,
   Love makes them shine,
  Your eyes that lean
   So close to mine.

  We have long been lovers,
   We know the range
  Of each other's moods
   And how they change;

  But when we look
   At each other so
  Then we feel
   How little we know;

  The spirit eludes us,
   Timid and free—
  Can I ever know you
   Or you know me?

  In a Hospital
      IV

Open Windows

  Out of the window a sea of green trees
   Lift their soft boughs like the arms of a dancer,
  They beckon and call me, "Come out in the sun!"
   But I cannot answer.

  I am alone with Weakness and Pain,
   Sick abed and June is going,
  I cannot keep her, she hurries by
   With the silver-green of her garments blowing.

  Men and women pass in the street
   Glad of the shining sapphire weather,
  But we know more of it than they,
   Pain and I together.

  They are the runners in the sun,
   Breathless and blinded by the race,
  But we are watchers in the shade
   Who speak with Wonder face to face.

The New Moon

  Day, you have bruised and beaten me,
  As rain beats down the bright, proud sea,
  Beaten my body, bruised my soul,
  Left me nothing lovely or whole—
  Yet I have wrested a gift from you,
  Day that dies in dusky blue:

  For suddenly over the factories
  I saw a moon in the cloudy seas—
  A wisp of beauty all alone
  In a world as hard and gray as stone—
  Oh who could be bitter and want to die
  When a maiden moon wakes up in the sky?

Eight O'Clock

  Supper comes at five o'clock,
   At six, the evening star,
  My lover comes at eight o'clock—
   But eight o'clock is far.

  How could I bear my pain all day
   Unless I watched to see
  The clock-hands laboring to bring
   Eight o'clock to me.

Lost Things

  Oh, I could let the world go by,
   Its loud new wonders and its wars,
  But how will I give up the sky
   When winter dusk is set with stars?

  And I could let the cities go,
   Their changing customs and their creeds,—
  But oh, the summer rains that blow
   In silver on the jewel-weeds!

Pain

  Waves are the sea's white daughters,
   And raindrops the children of rain,
  But why for my shimmering body
   Have I a mother like Pain?

  Night is the mother of stars,
   And wind the mother of foam—
  The world is brimming with beauty,
   But I must stay at home.

The Broken Field

  My soul is a dark ploughed field
   In the cold rain;
  My soul is a broken field
   Ploughed by pain.

  Where grass and bending flowers
   Were growing,
  The field lies broken now
   For another sowing.

  Great Sower when you tread
   My field again,
  Scatter the furrows there
   With better grain.

The Unseen

  Death went up the hall
   Unseen by every one,
  Trailing twilight robes
   Past the nurse and the nun.

  He paused at every door
   And listened to the breath
  Of those who did not know
   How near they were to Death.

  Death went up the hall
   Unseen by nurse and nun;
  He passed by many a door—
   But he entered one.

A Prayer

  When I am dying, let me know
  That I loved the blowing snow
   Although it stung like whips;
  That I loved all lovely things
  And I tried to take their stings
   With gay unembittered lips;
  That I loved with all my strength,
  To my soul's full depth and length,
   Careless if my heart must break,
  That I sang as children sing
  Fitting tunes to everything,
   Loving life for its own sake.