Why do you say every night that same thing? Turning your mind to some old constant theme, Half meditating and half murmuring? Tell me, that girl of your young manhood’s dream, Her you loved first in that dim long ago-- Had _she_ blue eyes? Did _her_ hair goldly gleam? Does _she_ come back to you softly and slow, Stepping wraith-wise from the depths of the past? Quickened and fired by the warmth of our glow? There I’ve divined it! My wit holds you fast. Nay, no excuses; ’tis little I care. I knew a lad in my own girlhood’s past,-- Blue eyes he had and such waving gold hair! NOBLESSE OBLIGE Lolotte, who attires my hair, Lost her lover. Lolotte weeps; Trails her hand before her eyes; Hangs her head and mopes and sighs, Mutters of the pangs of hell. Fills the circumambient air With her plaints and her despair. Looks at me: “May you never know, Mam’selle, Love’s harsh cruelty.” Love’s dart lurks in my heart too,-- None may know the smart Throbbing underneath my smile. Burning, pricking all the while That I dance and sing and spar, Juggling words and making quips To hide the trembling of my lips. I must laugh What time I moan to moon and star To help me stand the gaff. What a silly thing is pride! Lolotte bares her heart. Heedless that each runner reads All her thoughts and all her needs. What I hide with my soul’s life Lolotte tells with tear and cry. Blurs her pain with sob and sigh. Happy Lolotte, she! I must jest while sorrow’s knife Stabs in ecstasy. “If I live, I shall outlive.” Meanwhile I am barred From expression of my pain. Let my heart be torn in twain, Only I may know the truth. Happy Lolotte, blessed she Who may tell her agony! On me a seal is set. Love is lost, and--bitter ruth-- Pride is with me yet! LA VIE C’EST LA VIE On summer afternoons I sit Quiescent by you in the park, And idly watch the sunbeams gild And tint the ash-trees’ bark. Or else I watch the squirrels frisk And chaffer in the grassy lane; And all the while I mark your voice Breaking with love and pain. I know a woman who would give Her chance of heaven to take my place; To see the love-light in your eyes, The love-glow on your face! And there’s a man whose lightest word Can set my chilly blood afire; Fulfilment of his least behest Defines my life’s desire. But he will none of me. Nor I Of you. Nor you of her. ’Tis said The world is full of jests like these.-- I wish that I were dead. THE RETURN I that had found the way so smooth With gilly-flowers that beck and nod, Now find that same road wild and steep With need for compass and for rod. And yet with feet that bleed, I pant On blindly,--stumbling back to God! RENCONTRE My heart that was so passionless Leapt high last night when I saw you! Within me surged the grief of years And whelmed me with its endless rue. My heart that slept so still, so spent, Awoke last night,--to break anew! FRAGMENT