O LOVELY chance, what can I do To give my gratefulness to you? You rise between myself and me With a wise persistency; I would have broken body and soul,

Pierrot stands in the garden Beneath a waning moon, And on his lute he fashions A little silver tune. Pierrot plays in the garden,

You bound strong sandals on my fee… You gave me bread and wine, And sent me under sun and stars, For all the world was mine. Oh, take the sandals off my feet,

When I am dead and over me bright… Shakes out her rain-drenched hair, Though you shall lean above me bro… I shall not care. I shall have peace, as leafy trees…

I wish for such a lot of things That never will come true, And yet I want them all so much I think they might, don’t you? I want a little kitty-cat

When I talk with other men I always think of you— Your words are keener than their w… And they are gentler, too. When I look at other men,

It is not a word spoken, Few words are said; Nor even a look of the eyes Nor a bend of the head, But only a hush of the heart

With the man I love who loves me… I walked in the street-lamps’ flar… We watched the world go home that… In a flood through Union Square. I leaned to catch the words he sai…

The shining line of motors, The swaying motor-bus, The prancing dancing horses Are passing by for us. The sunlight on the steeple,

The world is tired, the year is ol… The little leaves are glad to die, The wind goes shivering with cold Among the rushes dry. Our love is dying like the grass,

I gave my life to another lover, I gave my love, and all, and all— But over a dream the past will hov… Out of a dream the past will call. I tear myself from sleep with a sh…

They said he sent his love to me, They wouldn’t put it in my hand, And when I asked them where it wa… They said I couldn’t understand. I thought they must have hidden it…

I was a queen, and I have lost my… A wife, and I have broken all my… A lover, and I ruined him I loved… There is no other havoc left to do… A little month ago I was a queen,

To-night I close my eyes and see A strange procession passing me— The years before I saw your face Go by me with a wistful grace; They pass, the sensitive shy years…