Your lips are the red symbol of a dream. What visions of warm lilies they impart, That line the green bank of a fair blue stream, With butterflies and bees close to each heart! Brown bees that murmur sounds of music rare, That softly fall upon the languorous breeze, Wafting them gently on the quiet air Among untended avenues of trees. O were I hovering, a bee, to probe Deep down within your scented heart, fair flower, Enfolded by your soft vermilion robe, Amorous of sweets, for but one perfect hour! COURAGE O lonely heart so timid of approach, Like the shy tropic flower that shuts its lips To the faint touch of tender finger tips: What is your word? What question would you broach? Your lustrous-warm eyes are too sadly kind To mask the meaning of your dreamy tale, Your guarded life too exquisitely frail Against the daggers of my warring mind. There is no part of the unyielding earth, Even bare rocks where the eagles build their nest, Will give us undisturbed and friendly rest. No dewfall softens this vast belt of dearth. But in the socket-chiseled teeth of strife, That gleam in serried files in all the lands, We may join hungry, understanding hands, And drink our share of ardent love and life. TO O.E.A. Your voice is the color of a robin’s breast, And there’s a sweet sob in it like rain--still rain in the night. Among the leaves of the trumpet-tree, close to his nest, The pea-dove sings, and each note thrills me with strange delight Like the words, wet with music, that well from your trembling throat. I’m afraid of your eyes, they’re so bold, Searching me through, reading my thoughts, shining like gold. But sometimes they are gentle and soft like the dew on the lips of the eucharis Before the sun comes warm with his lover’s kiss. You are sea-foam, pure with the star’s loveliness, Not mortal, a flower, a fairy, too fair for the beauty-shorn earth. All wonderful things, all beautiful things, gave of their wealth to your birth. Oh I love you so much, not recking of passion, that I feel it is wrong! But men will love you, flower, fairy, non-mortal spirit burdened with flesh, Forever, life-long. ROMANCE To clasp you now and feel your head close-pressed, Scented and warm against my beating breast; To whisper soft and quivering your name, And drink the passion burning in your frame; To lie at full length, taut, with cheek to cheek, And tease your mouth with kisses till you speak Love words, mad words, dream words, sweet senseless words, Melodious like notes of mating birds; To hear you ask if I shall love always, And myself answer: Till the end of days;