Helen of Troy | Page 9

not,
By shore of any sea?
For I am weary of the god,
And I would flee from him
Tho' I must
take a ship and go
Beyond the ocean's rim.
"I know a port where Love is not,
The ship is in your hand,
Then
plunge your sword within your breast
And you will reach the land."
The Wanderer

I saw the sunset-colored sands,
The Nile like flowing fire between,

Where Rameses stares forth serene,
And Ammon's heavy temple
stands.
I saw the rocks where long ago,
Above the sea that cries and breaks,

Bright Perseus with Medusa's snakes
Set free the maiden white like
snow.
And many skies have covered me,
And many winds have blown me
forth,
And I have loved the green bright north,
And I have loved the
cold sweet sea.
But what to me are north and south,
And what the lure of many lands,

Since you have leaned to catch my hands
And lay a kiss upon my
mouth.
I Would Live in Your Love
I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea, Borne up by
each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes; I would
empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me, I would beat
with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul as it leads.
May
The wind is tossing the lilacs,
The new leaves laugh in the sun,
And
the petals fall on the orchard wall,
But for me the spring is done.
Beneath the apple blossoms
I go a wintry way,
For love that smiled
in April
Is false to me in May.
Rispetto
Was that his step that sounded on the stair?
Was that his knock I
heard upon the door?
I grow so tired I almost cease to care,
And yet
I would that he might come once more.

It was the wind I heard, that mocks at me,
The bitter wind that is
more cruel than he;
It was the wind that knocked upon the door,
But
he will never knock nor enter more.
Less than the Cloud to the Wind
Less than the cloud to the wind,
Less than the foam to the sea,
Less
than the rose to the storm
Am I to thee.
More than the star to the night,
More than the rain to the lea,
More
than heaven to earth
Art thou to me.
Buried Love
I shall bury my weary Love
Beneath a tree,
In the forest tall and
black
Where none can see.
I shall put no flowers at his head,
Nor stone at his feet,
For the
mouth I loved so much
Was bittersweet.
I shall go no more to his grave,
For the woods are cold.
I shall
gather as much of joy
As my hands can hold.
I shall stay all day in the sun
Where the wide winds blow,
But oh, I
shall weep at night
When none will know.
Song
O woe is me, my heart is sad,
For I should never know
If Love
came by like any lad,
Without his silver bow.
Or if he left his arrows sharp
And came a minstrel weary,
I'd never
tell him by his harp
Nor know him for my dearie.

"O go your ways and have no fear,
For tho' Love passes by,
He'll
come a hundred times, my dear,
Before your turn to die."
Pierrot
Pierrot stands in the garden
Beneath a waning moon,
And on his
lute he fashions
A little silver tune.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
He thinks he plays for me,
But I am
quite forgotten
Under the cherry tree.
Pierrot plays in the garden,
And all the roses know
That Pierrot
loves his music,
But I love Pierrot.
At Night
Love said, "Wake still and think of me,"
Sleep, "Close your eyes till
break of day,"
But Dreams came by and smilingly
Gave both to
Love and Sleep their way.
Song
When Love comes singing to his heart
That would not wake for me,

I think that I shall know his joy
By my own ecstasy.
And tho' the sea were all between,
The time their hands shall meet,

My heart will know his happiness,
So wildly it will beat.
And when he bends above her mouth,
Rejoicing for his sake,
My
soul will sing a little song,
But oh, my heart will break.
Love in Autumn
I sought among the drifting leaves,
The golden leaves that once were
green,
To see if Love were hiding there
And peeping out between.

For thro' the silver showers of May
And thro' the summer's heavy
heat,
In vain I sought his golden head
And light, fast-flying feet.
Perhaps when all the world is bare
And cruel winter holds the land,

The Love that finds no place to hide
Will run and catch my hand.
I shall not care to have him then,
I shall be bitter and a-cold --
It
grows too late for frolicking
When all the world is old.
Then little hiding Love, come forth,
Come forth before the autumn
goes,
And let us seek thro' ruined paths
The garden's last red rose.
The Kiss
I hoped that he would love me,
And he has kissed my mouth,
But I
am like a stricken bird
That cannot reach the south.
For tho'