My heart is earth that keeps untold The secret of the seeds that sleep. My thoughts are chalices of sand; Your memory floods them and I weep. _Harper’s_ _Ethel M. Hewitt_ WAITING I thought my heart would break Because the Spring was slow. I said, “How long young April sleeps Beneath the snow!” But when at last she came, And buds broke in the dew, I dreamed of my lost love, And my heart broke, too! _Harper’s_ _Charles Hanson Towne_ DESIDERIUM Face in the tomb, that lies so still, May I draw near, And watch you sleep and love you, Without word or tear? You smile, your eyelids flicker; Shall I tell How the world goes that lost you? Shall I tell? Ah, love, lift not your eyelids; ’Tis the same Old story that we laughed at, Still the same. We knew it, you and I, We knew it all: Still is the small the great, The great the small; Still the cold lie quenches The flaming truth, And still embattled age Wars against youth. Yet I believe still in the ever-living God That fills your grave with perfume, Writing your name in violets across the sod, Shielding your holy face from hail and snow; And, though the withered stay, the lovely go. No transitory wrong or wrath of things Shatters the faith--that each slow minute brings That meadow nearer to us where your feet Shall flutter near me like white butterflies-- That meadow where immortal lovers meet, Gazing forever in immortal eyes. _Smart Set_ _Richard Le Gallienne_ HUMAN Weighed down by grief, o’erborne by deep despair, She lifted up white arms to heaven and prayed That day for death; she made a mighty prayer Beside her dear one gently to be laid. And standing thus, it flashed across her mind How she must make a seemly silhouette Against the sky, her figure sharply lined Upon the westering sunlight, black as jet. _Smart Set_ _Richard Burton_ THE GHOST One whom I loved and never can forget Returned to me in dream, and spoke with me, As audibly, as sweet familiarly As though warm fingers twined warm fingers yet. Her eyes were bright and with great wonder wet As in old days when some strange, swift decree Brought touch-close love or death; and sorrow-free She spoke as one long purged of all regret. I heard, oh, glad beyond all speech, I heard, Till to my lips the flaming query flashed: _How is it--over there?_ Then, quite undone, She trembled; in her deep eyes like a bird The gladness fluttered, and as one abashed She shook her head bewildered, and was gone. _Scribner’s_ _Hermann Hagedorn_ A MOUNTAIN GATEWAY I know a vale where I would go one day, When June comes back and all the world once more Is glad with summer. Deep with shade it lies, A mighty cleft in the green bosoming hills, A cool, dim gateway to the mountains’ heart.