The rainbow on the ocean
A moment bright,
The nightingale's devotion
That dies on night,
Eve's rosy star a-tremble
Its hour of light —
All things that love resemble
Too soon take flight.

The violets we cherish
Died in the spring;
Roses and lilies perish
In what they bring;
And joy and beauty wholly
With life depart;
But love leaves slow, how slowly!
Life's empty heart.

O, strange to me, and wondrous,
The storm passed by,
With sound of voices thundrous
Swept from the sky;

What time I went from thee to other lands
Love took my soul between his glowing hands,
And turned it all about and tortured it —
Ah, cruel Love! — and minded not a whit
Because my poor soul at his fervent breath
Was melted, ev'n as iron that softeneth
Upon the forge; lo, on my cheek appears
Love's handiwork — my molten soul in tears.

Pretty one, sad one, lift up your eyes and greet me;
The April wind is in the land and appleblossoms drift.
Come from out your shadowed place—take a step to meet me.
I am new Love, true Love—who comes with many a gift.

With fresh, red roses bespangled with the dew
For the withered ones your sweet hands cherish,
With a handful of happy dreams to all come true
In place of the wistful ones that perish.

Pretty one, sad one, lift up your eyes nor doubt me;
I am new Love, true Love who at your threshold stands,

I am no more lonely, now that I have known your love,
Now that your love lies safe in my heart;
I go my way in wonder,
Companioned by great beauty.
Everywhere there are silvery voices calling me,
And when I walk beneath the stars
I understand the speech of the wind-cool sky,
And when I mingle with many people
I am one with the secret of their souls.

Until you came I was ever lonely;
I knew only solitude over the earth,
In the forests or playing with little children,
In the dawn-hour or in the shadow —

I am no more myself,
For love has made us indivisible.
I have become you —
(And Oh! the joy of this intermingling!)

As two stars that fall thro' space
Join their silvery pinions in the night,
So thro' the dark of life
Shot the shining arrow of our love.

I am liberated from self,
Self has merged in you;
I am not I, for I have become you;
(And Oh! the joy of this intermingling!)

Heal me with your love,
Fold me in your heart;
Let me think not of
The long years apart.

Let me no more weep,
Lying on your breast;
Kiss my soul to sleep,
There it would find rest.

I shall no more go
Lonely on my way;
We shall only know
Love, each happy day.

Tears and sorrow over,
Eased the aching smart.
Fold me, O my lover,
Ever in your heart!

The world is an enchanted place,
My soul a fairy flower;
I look upon the heaven's face
Each shining hour.

Each passer is a morning star
Upon the brilliant way;
I know not what earth-longings are,
So bright the day.

My heart is hushed as with the spring,
I mourn no more or pine;
Beauty is lit in everything —
My love, my love is mine!

Sweet it is to meet again,
Now that love is past,
We are free of joy and pain
At last.

Sweet it is to touch your hair,
Now we love no more,
All the longing and despair
Gone before.

Sweet it is to feel you near,
Now that love is dead,
All the anguish and the fear
Finally fled.

Sweet it is to know that we
Now have reached the land,
After years on Love's wide sea,
Hand in hand!

I can love only you,
And since you can never be mine
Therefore I must love a shadow.

O Shadow, lovely as dawnrise,
Like a wind of summer are you to my soul,
Soft wind amid the skies.

Forever must I love only a shadow
Impalpable, exquisite thing,
Diaphanous as a rainbow wing.

(But when the long dark nights are here,
It is your lips I need, and I would rest
On the white violet of your breast.)

I lie alone under the boughs of the trees;
They drip clear water,
And the rain dances about me
In bright flashes like little stars.
The trees are thick and lowering;
The night is very black
And there is no wind;
Only the darkness that shuts out the wide, cool sky.

There is fear at my heart,
Fear that closes about me like the night,
Fear that comes in little quick flashes
Like the drops of rain.

Is it of the wide still night
That I am fearful. . . .
(O dark, starless and full of silence!)