A half-hour more and you will lean To gather me close in the old swee… But oh, to the woman over the sea Who will come at the close of day? A half-hour more and I will hear

We are apart; the city grows quiet… She hushes herself, for midnight m… The tangle of traffic is ended, th… Five streets divide us, and on the… Oh are you asleep, or lying awake,…

Beneath my chamber window Pierrot was singing, singing; I heard his lute the whole night t… Until the east was red. Alas, alas Pierrot,

I think the moon is very kind To take such trouble just for me. He came along with me from home To keep me company. He went as fast as I could run;

Her voice is like clear water That drips upon a stone In forests far and silent Where Quiet plays alone. Her thoughts are like the lotus

Oh day of fire and sun, Pure as a naked flame, Blue sea, blue sky and dun Sands where he spoke my name; Laughter and hearts so high

God let me listen to your voice, And look upon you for a space— And then he took your voice away, And dropped a veil before your fac… God let me look within your eyes,

In the spring I asked the daisies If his words were true, And the clever, clear-eyed daisies Always knew. Now the fields are brown and barre…

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

Out of the delicate dream of the d… Veiled in the violet folds of the… Softly the dream grows awakening—s… Splashes of crimson, the gay bouga… High in the infinite blue of its h…

Gray pilgrim, you have journeyed f… I pray you tell to me Is there a land where Love is not… By shore of any sea? For I am weary of the god,

Your mind and mine are such great… Have freed themselves from cautiou… And on wild clouds of thought, nak… They ride above us in extreme deli… We see them, we look up with a lon…

Oh in the deep blue night The fountain sang alone; It sang to the drowsy heart Of a satyr carved in stone. The fountain sang and sang

I am the still rain falling, Too tired for singing mirth— Oh, be the green fields calling, Oh, be for me the earth! I am the brown bird pining

PLACES I love come back to me l… Hush me and heal me when I am ver… I see the oak woods at Saxton’s f… In a flare of crimson by the frost… And I am thirsty for the spring i…