When, "Hark!" you said,--"Was that a bell Or a bubbling spring we heard?"

But I was wise and closed my eyes And listened to a bird;

For as summer leaves are bent and shake With singers pa.s.sing through, So moves in me continually The winged breath of you.

You tasted from a single vine And took from that your fill-- But I inclined to every kind, All seven on one hill.

Witter Bynner [1881-

"I AM THE WIND"

I am the wind that wavers, You are the certain land; I am the shadow that pa.s.ses Over the sand.

I am the leaf that quivers, You the unshaken tree; You are the stars that are steadfast, I am the sea.

You are the light eternal, Like a torch I shall die...

You are the surge of deep music, I--but a cry!

Zoe Akins [1886-

"I LOVE MY LIFE, BUT NOT TOO WELL"

I love my life, but not too well To give it to thee like a flower, So it may pleasure thee to dwell Deep in its perfume but an hour.

I love my life, but not too well.

I love my life, but not too well To sing it note by note away, So to thy soul the song may tell The beauty of the desolate day.

I love my life, but not too well.

I love my life, but not too well To cast it like a cloak on thine, Against the storms that sound and swell Between thy lonely heart and mine.

I love my life, but not too well.

Harriet Monroe [1860-1936]

"THIS IS MY LOVE FOR YOU"

I have brought the wine And the folded raiment fine, Pilgrim staff and shoe-- This is my love for you.

I will smooth your bed, Lay away your coverlid, Sing the whole day through.

This is my love for you.

Mayhap in the night, When the dark beats back the light, I shall struggle too...

This is my love for you.

In your dream, once more, Will a star lead to my door?

To stars and dreams be true This is my love for you...

Grace Fallow Norton [1876-

MY LADY'S LIPS

LIPS AND EYES From "Blurt, Master Constable"

Love for such a cherry lip Would be glad to p.a.w.n his arrows; Venus here to take a sip Would sell her doves and team of sparrows.

But they shall not so; Hey nonny, nonny no!

None but I this lip must owe; Hey nonny, nonny no!

Did Jove see this wanton eye, Ganymede must wait no longer; Phoebe here one night did lie, Would change her face and look much younger.

But they shall not so; Hey nonny, nonny no!

None but I this lip must owe; Hey nonny, nonny no!

Thomas Middleton [1570?-1627]

THE KISS From "Cynthia's Revels"

O that joy so soon should waste!

Or so sweet a bliss As a kiss Might not for ever last!

So sugared, so melting, so soft, so delicious, The dew that lies on roses, When the morn herself discloses, Is not so precious.

O, rather than I would it smother, Were I to taste such another, It should be my wishing That I might die with kissing.