I turned the key and opened wide t… To enter my deserted room again, Where thro’ the long hot months th… Was it not lonely when across the… No step was heard, no sudden song…

REDBIRDS, redbirds, Long and long ago, What a honey-call you had In hills I used to know; Redbud, buckberry,

I am a pool in a peaceful place, I greet the great sky face to face… I know the stars and the stately m… And the wind that runs with rippli… But why does it always bring to me

There is no lord within my heart, Left silent as an empty shrine Where rose and myrtle intertwine, Within a place apart. No god is there of carven stone

I HAVE been happy two weeks toge… My love is coming home to me, Gold and silver is the weather And smooth as lapis is the sea. The earth has turned its brown to…

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

I saw the sunset-colored sands, The Nile, like flowing fire betwe… Where Ramses stares forth serene And ammon’s heavy temple stands. I saw the rocks where long ago,

The dearest child in all the world… Should have the dearest songs, And that is why this little book To David-Boy belongs.

Shall we, too, rise forgetful from… And shall my soul that lies within… Remember nothing, as the blowing s… Forgets the palm where long blue s… When winds along the darkened dese…

Look back with longing eyes and kn… Lift me up in your love as a light… Let our flight be far in sun or wi… But what if I heard my first love… Hold me on your heart as the brave…

I am a cloud in the heaven’s heigh… The stars are lit for my delight, Tireless and changeful, swift and… I cast my shadow on hill and sea— But why do the pines on the mounta…

When we come home at night and clo… Standing together in the shadowy r… Safe in our own love and the gentl… Glad of familiar wall and chair an… Glad to leave far below the clangi…

My soul lives in my body’s house, And you have both the house and he… But sometimes she is less your own Than a wild, gay adventurer; A restless and an eager wraith,

I cannot die, who drank delight From the cup of the crescent moon, And hungrily as men eat bread, Loved the scented nights of June. The rest may die—but is there not