Love Songs | Page 4

above me,?Take my love this April song,?"Love me, love me, love me!"
When he harkens what you say,?Bid him, lest he miss me,?Leave his work or leave his play,?And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!
Pierrot
Pierrot stands in the garden?Beneath a waning moon,?And on his lute he fashions?A fragile 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.
Wild Asters
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 barren,?Bitter autumn blows,?And of all the stupid asters?Not one knows.
The Song for Colin
I sang a song at dusking time?Beneath the evening star,?And Terence left his latest rhyme?To answer from afar.
Pierrot laid down his lute to weep,?And sighed, "She sings for me."?But Colin slept a careless sleep?Beneath an apple tree.
Four Winds
"Four winds blowing through the sky,?You have seen poor maidens die,?Tell me then what I shall do?That my lover may be true."?Said the wind from out the south,?"Lay no kiss upon his mouth,"?And the wind from out the west,?"Wound the heart within his breast,"?And the wind from out the east,?"Send him empty from the feast,"?And the wind from out the north,?"In the tempest thrust him forth;?When thou art more cruel than he,?Then will Love be kind to thee."
Debt
What do I owe to you?Who loved me deep and long??You never gave my spirit wings?Or gave my heart a song.
But oh, to him I loved,?Who loved me not at all,?I owe the open gate?That led through heaven's wall.
Faults
They came to tell your faults to me,?They named them over one by one;?I laughed aloud when they were done,?I knew them all so well before, --?Oh, they were blind, too blind to see?Your faults had made me love you more.
Buried Love
I have come to bury 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 cry at night?When none will know.
The Fountain
All through the deep blue night?The fountain sang alone;?It sang to the drowsy heart?Of the satyr carved in stone.
The fountain sang and sang,?But the satyr never stirred --?Only the great white moon?In the empty heaven heard.
The fountain sang and sang?While on the marble rim?The milk-white peacocks slept,?And their dreams were strange and dim.
Bright dew was on the grass,?And on the ilex, dew,?The dreamy milk-white birds?Were all a-glisten, too.
The fountain sang and sang?The things one cannot tell;?The dreaming peacocks stirred?And the gleaming dew-drops fell.
I Shall Not Care
When I am dead and over me bright April?Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,?Though you should lean above me broken-hearted,?I shall not care.
I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful?When rain bends down the bough,?And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted?Than you are now.
After Parting
Oh, I have sown my love so wide?That he will find it everywhere;?It will awake him in the night,?It will enfold him in the air.
I set my shadow in his sight?And I have winged it with desire,?That it may be a cloud by day,?And in the night a shaft of fire.
A Prayer
Until I lose my soul and lie?Blind to the beauty of the earth,?Deaf though shouting wind goes by,?Dumb in a storm of mirth;
Until my heart is quenched at length?And I have left the land of men,?Oh, let me love with all my strength?Careless if I am loved again.
Spring Night
The park is filled with night and fog,?The veils are drawn about the world,?The drowsy lights along the paths?Are dim and pearled.
Gold and gleaming the empty streets,?Gold and gleaming the misty lake,?The mirrored lights like sunken swords,?Glimmer and shake.
Oh, is it not enough to be?Here with this beauty over me??My throat should ache with praise, and I?Should kneel in joy beneath the sky.?O, beauty, are you not enough??Why am I crying after love,?With youth, a singing voice, and eyes?To take earth's wonder with surprise?
Why have I put off my pride,?Why am I unsatisfied, --?I, for whom the pensive night?Binds her cloudy hair with light, --?I, for whom all beauty burns?Like incense in a million urns??O beauty, are you not enough??Why am I crying after love?
May Wind
I said, "I have shut my heart?As one shuts an open door,?That Love may starve therein?And trouble me no more."
But over the roofs there came?The wet new wind of May,?And a tune blew up from the curb?Where the street-pianos play.
My room was white with the sun?And Love cried out in me,?"I am strong, I will break your heart?Unless you set me free."
Tides
Love in