In Spring, Santa Barbara

I have been happy two weeks together,

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 green

After three nights of humming rain,

And in the valleys peck and preen

Linnets with a scarlet stain.

High in the mountains all alone

The wild swans whistle on the lakes,

But I have been as still as stone,

My heart sings only when it breaks.

White Fog

Heaven-invading hills are drowned

In wide moving waves of mist,

Phlox before my door are wound

In dripping wreaths of amethyst.

Ten feet away the solid earth

Changes into melting cloud,

There is a hush of pain and mirth,

No bird has heart to speak aloud.

Here in a world without a sky,

Without the ground, without the sea,

The one unchanging thing is I,

Myself remains to comfort me.

Arcturus

Arcturus brings the spring back

As surely now as when

He rose on eastern islands

For Grecian girls and men;

The twilight is as clear a blue,

The star as shaken and as bright,

And the same thought he gave to them

He gives to me to-night.

Moonlight

It will not hurt me when I am old,

A running tide where moonlight burned

Will not sting me like silver snakes;

The years will make me sad and cold,

It is the happy heart that breaks.

The heart asks more than life can give,

When that is learned, then all is learned;

The waves break fold on jewelled fold,

But beauty itself is fugitive,

It will not hurt me when I am old.

Morning Song

A diamond of a morning

Waked me an hour too soon;

Dawn had taken in the stars

And left the faint white moon.

O white moon, you are lonely,

It is the same with me,

But we have the world to roam over,

Only the lonely are free.

Gray Fog

A fog drifts in, the heavy laden

Cold white ghost of the sea --

One by one the hills go out,

The road and the pepper-tree.

I watch the fog float in at the window

With the whole world gone blind,

Everything, even my longing, drowses,

Even the thoughts in my mind.

I put my head on my hands before me,

There is nothing left to be done or said,

There is nothing to hope for, I am tired,

And heavy as the dead.

Bells

At six o'clock of an autumn dusk

With the sky in the west a rusty red,

The bells of the mission down in the valley

Cry out that the day is dead.

The first star pricks as sharp as steel --

Why am I suddenly so cold?

Three bells, each with a separate sound

Clang in the valley, wearily tolled.

Bells in Venice, bells at sea,

Bells in the valley heavy and slow --

There is no place over the crowded world

Where I can forget that the days go.

Lovely Chance

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,

But by your grace, still I am whole.

Many a thing you did to save me,

Many a holy gift you gave me,

Music and friends and happy love

More than my dearest dreaming of;

And now in this wide twilight hour

With earth and heaven a dark, blue flower,

In a humble mood I bless

Your wisdom -- and your waywardness.

You brought me even here, where I

Live on a hill against the sky

And look on mountains and the sea

And a thin white moon in the pepper tree.

"There Will Come Soft Rains"

(War Time)

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,

And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire

Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one

Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree

If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,

Would scarcely know that we were gone.

In a Garden

The world is resting without sound or motion,

Behind the apple tree the sun goes down

Painting with fire the spires and the windows

In the elm-shaded town.

Beyond the calm Connecticut the hills lie

Silvered with haze as fruits still fresh with bloom,

The swallows weave in flight across the zenith

On an aerial loom.

Into the garden peace comes back with twilight,

Peace that since noon had left the purple phlox,

The heavy-headed asters, the late roses

And swaying hollyhocks.

For at high-noon I heard from this same garden

The far-off murmur as when many come;

Up from the village surged the blind and beating

Red music of a drum;

And the hysterical sharp fife that shattered

The brittle autumn air,

While they came, the young men marching

Past the village square. . . .

Across the calm Connecticut the hills change

To violet, the veils of dusk are deep --

Earth takes her children's many sorrows calmly

And stills herself to sleep.

Nahant

Bowed as an elm under the weight of its beauty,

So earth is bowed, under her weight of splendor,

Molten sea, richness of leaves and the burnished

Bronze of sea-grasses.

Clefts in the cliff shelter the purple sand-peas

And chicory flowers bluer than the ocean

Flinging its foam high, white fire in sunshine,

Jewels of water.

Joyous thunder of blown waves on the ledges,

Make me forget war and the dark war-sorrow --

Against the sky a sentry paces the sea-cliff

Slim in his khaki.

Winter Stars

I went out at night alone;

The young blood flowing beyond the sea

Seemed to have drenched my spirit's wings --

I bore my sorrow heavily.

But when I lifted up my head

From shadows shaken on the snow,

I saw Orion in the east

Burn steadily as long ago.

From windows in my father's house,

Dreaming my dreams on winter nights,

I watched Orion as a girl

Above another city's lights.

Years go, dreams go, and youth goes too,

The world's heart breaks beneath its wars,

All things are changed, save in the east

The faithful beauty of the stars.

A Boy

Out of the noise of tired people working,

Harried with thoughts of war and lists of dead,

His beauty met me like a fresh wind blowing,

Clean boyish beauty and high-held head.

Eyes that told secrets, lips that would not tell them,

Fearless and shy the young unwearied eyes --

Men die by millions now, because God blunders,

Yet to have made this boy he must be wise.

Winter Dusk

I watch the great clear twilight

Veiling the ice-bowed trees;

Their branches tinkle faintly

With crystal melodies.

The larches bend their silver

Over the hush of snow;

One star is lighted in the west,

Two in the zenith glow.

For a moment I have forgotten

Wars and women who mourn --

I think of the mother who bore me

And thank her that I was born.

The Unchanging

Sun-swept beaches with a light wind blowing

From the immense blue circle of the sea,

And the soft thunder where long waves whiten --

These were the same for Sappho as for me.

Two thousand years -- much has gone by forever,

Change takes the gods and ships and speech of men --

But here on the beaches that time passes over

The heart aches now as then.

June Night

Oh Earth, you are too dear to-night,

How can I sleep while all around

Floats rainy fragrance and the far

Deep voice of the ocean that talks to the ground?

Oh Earth, you gave me all I have,

I love you, I love you, -- oh what have I

That I can give you in return --

Except my body after I die?

Like Barley Bending

Like barley bending

In low fields by the sea,

Singing in hard wind

Ceaselessly;

Like barley bending

And rising again,

So would I, unbroken,

Rise from pain;

So would I softly,

Day long, night long,

Change my sorrow

Into song.

Oh Day of Fire and Sun

Oh day of fire and sun,

Pure as a naked flame,

Blue sea, blue sky and dun

Sands where he spoke my name;

Laughter and hearts so high

That the spirit flew off free,

Lifting into the sky

Diving into the sea;

Oh day of fire and sun

Like a crystal burning,

Slow days go one by one,

But you have no returning.

I Thought of You

I thought of you and how you love this beauty,

And walking up the long beach all alone

I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder

As you and I once heard their monotone.

Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me

The cold and sparkling silver of the sea --

We two will pass through death and ages lengthen

Before you hear that sound again with me.

On the Dunes

If there is any life when death is over,

These tawny beaches will know much of me,

I shall come back, as constant and as changeful

As the unchanging, many-colored sea.

If life was small, if it has made me scornful,

Forgive me; I shall straighten like a flame

In the great calm of death, and if you want me

Stand on the sea-ward dunes and call my name.

Spray

I knew you thought of me all night,

I knew, though you were far away;

I felt your love blow over me

As if a dark wind-riven sea

Drenched me with quivering spray.

There are so many ways to love

And each way has its own delight --

Then be content to come to me

Only as spray the beating sea

Drives inland through the night.

If Death Is Kind

Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning,

We will come back to earth some fragrant night,

And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending

Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.

We will come down at night to these resounding beaches

And the long gentle thunder of the sea,

Here for a single hour in the wide starlight

We shall be happy, for the dead are free.

Thoughts

When I am all alone

Envy me most,

Then my thoughts flutter round me

In a glimmering host;

Some dressed in silver,

Some dressed in white,

Each like a taper

Blossoming light;

Most of them merry,

Some of them grave,

Each of them lithe

As willows that wave;

Some bearing violets,

Some bearing bay,

One with a burning rose

Hidden away --

When I am all alone

Envy me then,

For I have better friends

Than women and men.

Faces

People that I meet and pass

In the city's broken roar,

Faces that I lose so soon

And have never found before,

Do you know how much you tell

In the meeting of our eyes,

How ashamed I am, and sad

To have pierced your poor disguise?

Secrets rushing without sound

Crying from your hiding places --

Let me go, I cannot bear

The sorrow of the passing faces.

-- People in the restless street,

Can it be, oh can it be

In the meeting of our eyes

That you know as much of me?

Evening: New York

Blue dust of evening over my city,

Over the ocean of roofs and the tall towers

Where the window-lights, myriads and myriads,

Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.

Snowfall

"She can't be unhappy," you said,

"The smiles are like stars in her eyes,

And her laugh is thistledown

Around her low replies."

"Is she unhappy?" you said --

But who has ever known

Another's heartbreak --

All he can know is his own;

And she seems hushed to me,

As hushed as though

Her heart were a hunter's fire

Smothered in snow.

The Silent Battle

(In Memory of J. W. T. Jr.)

He was a soldier in that fight

Where there is neither flag nor drum,

And without sound of musketry

The stealthy foemen come.

Year in, year out, by day and night

They forced him to a slow retreat,

And for his gallant fight alone

No fife was blown, and no drum beat.

In winter fog, in gathering mist

The gray grim battle had its end --

And at the very last we knew

His enemy had turned his friend.

The Sanctuary

If I could keep my innermost Me

Fearless, aloof and free

Of the least breath of love or hate,

And not disconsolate

At the sick load of sorrow laid on men;

If I could keep a sanctuary there

Free even of prayer,

If I could do this, then,

With quiet candor as I grew more wise

I could look even at God with grave forgiving eyes.

At Sea

In the pull of the wind I stand, lonely,

On the deck of a ship, rising, falling,

Wild night around me, wild water under me,

Whipped by the storm, screaming and calling.

Earth is hostile and the sea hostile,

Why do I look for a place to rest?

I must fight always and die fighting

With fear an unhealing wound in my breast.

Dust

When I went to look at what had long been hidden,

A jewel laid long ago in a secret place,

I trembled, for I thought to see its dark deep fire --

But only a pinch of dust blew up in my face.

I almost gave my life long ago for a thing

That has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes --

It is strange how often a heart must be broken

Before the years can make it wise.

The Long Hill

I must have passed the crest a while ago

And now I am going down --

Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know,

But the brambles were always catching the hem of my gown.

All the morning I thought how proud I should be

To stand there straight as a queen,

Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world under me --

But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.

It was nearly level along the beaten track

And the brambles caught in my gown --

But it's no use now to think of turning back,

The rest of the way will be only going down.

Summer Storm

The panther wind

Leaps out of the night,

The snake of lightning

Is twisting and white,

The lion of thunder

Roars -- and we

Sit still and content

Under a tree --

We have met fate together

And love and pain,

Why should we fear

The wrath of the rain!

In the End

All that could never be said,

All that could never be done,

Wait for us at last

Somewhere back of the sun;

All the heart broke to forego

Shall be ours without pain,

We shall take them as lightly as girls

Pluck flowers after rain.

And when they are ours in the end

Perhaps after all

The skies will not open for us

Nor heaven be there at our call.

It Will Not Change

It will not change now

After so many years;

Life has not broken it

With parting or tears;

Death will not alter it,

It will live on

In all my songs for you

When I am gone.

Change

Remember me as I was then;

Turn from me now, but always see

The laughing shadowy girl who stood

At midnight by the flowering tree,

With eyes that love had made as bright

As the trembling stars of the summer night.

Turn from me now, but always hear

The muted laughter in the dew

Of that one year of youth we had,

The only youth we ever knew --

Turn from me now, or you will see

What other years have done to me.

Water Lilies

If you have forgotten water lilies floating

On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,

If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,

Then you can return and not be afraid.

But if you remember, then turn away forever

To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart,

There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies,

And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart.

Did You Never Know?

Did you never know, long ago, how much you loved me --

That your love would never lessen and never go?

You were young then, proud and fresh-hearted,

You were too young to know.

Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly before it

Far apart, far away in the gusty time of year --

Seldom we meet now, but when I hear you speaking,

I know your secret, my dear, my dear.

The Treasure

When they see my songs

They will sigh and say,

"Poor soul, wistful soul,

Lonely night and day."

They will never know

All your love for me

Surer than the spring,

Stronger than the sea;

Hidden out of sight

Like a miser's gold

In forsaken fields

Where the wind is cold.

The Storm

I thought of you when I was wakened

By a wind that made me glad and afraid

Of the rushing, pouring sound of the sea

That the great trees made.

One thought in my mind went over and over

While the darkness shook and the leaves were thinned --

I thought it was you who had come to find me,

You were the wind.

The Tree

Oh to be free of myself,

With nothing left to remember,

To have my heart as bare

As a tree in December;

Resting, as a tree rests

After its leaves are gone,

Waiting no more for a rain at night

Nor for the red at dawn;

But still, oh so still

While the winds come and go,

With no more fear of the hard frost

Or the bright burden of snow;

And heedless, heedless

If anyone pass and see

On the white page of the sky

Its thin black tracery.

At Midnight

Now at last I have come to see what life is,

Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun,

And the brave victories that seem so splendid

Are never really won.

Even love that I built my spirit's house for,

Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest,

And music and men's praise and even laughter

Are not so good as rest.

Song Making

My heart cried like a beaten child

Ceaselessly all night long;

I had to take my own cries

And thread them into a song.

One was a cry at black midnight

And one when the first cock crew --

My heart was like a beaten child,

But no one ever knew.

Life, you have put me in your debt

And I must serve you long --

But oh, the debt is terrible

That must be paid in song.

Alone

I am alone, in spite of love,

In spite of all I take and give --

In spite of all your tenderness,

Sometimes I am not glad to live.

I am alone, as though I stood

On the highest peak of the tired gray world,

About me only swirling snow,

Above me, endless space unfurled;

With earth hidden and heaven hidden,

And only my own spirit's pride

To keep me from the peace of those

Who are not lonely, having died.

Red Maples

In the last year I have learned

How few men are worth my trust;

I have seen the friend I loved

Struck by death into the dust,

And fears I never knew before

Have knocked and knocked upon my door --

"I shall hope little and ask for less,"

I said, "There is no happiness."

I have grown wise at last -- but how

Can I hide the gleam on the willow-bough,

Or keep the fragrance out of the rain

Now that April is here again?

When maples stand in a haze of fire

What can I say to the old desire,

What shall I do with the joy in me

That is born out of agony?

>Debtor

So long as my spirit still

Is glad of breath

And lifts its plumes of pride

In the dark face of death;

While I am curious still

Of love and fame,

Keeping my heart too high

For the years to tame,

How can I quarrel with fate

Since I can see

I am a debtor to life,

Not life to me?

The Wind in the Hemlock

Steely stars and moon of brass,

How mockingly you watch me pass!

You know as well as I how soon

I shall be blind to stars and moon,

Deaf to the wind in the hemlock tree,

Dumb when the brown earth weighs on me.

With envious dark rage I bear,

Stars, your cold complacent stare;

Heart-broken in my hate look up,

Moon, at your clear immortal cup,

Changing to gold from dusky red --

Age after age when I am dead

To be filled up with light, and then

Emptied, to be refilled again.

What has man done that only he

Is slave to death -- so brutally

Beaten back into the earth

Impatient for him since his birth?

Oh let me shut my eyes, close out

The sight of stars and earth and be

Sheltered a minute by this tree.

Hemlock, through your fragrant boughs

There moves no anger and no doubt,

No envy of immortal things.

The night-wind murmurs of the sea

With veiled music ceaselessly,

That to my shaken spirit sings.

From their frail nest the robins rouse,

In your pungent darkness stirred,

Twittering a low drowsy word --

And me you shelter, even me.

In your quietness you house

The wind, the woman and the bird.

You speak to me and I have heard:

If I am peaceful, I shall see

Beauty's face continually;

Feeding on her wine and bread

I shall be wholly comforted,

For she can make one day for me

Rich as my lost eternity.