"I know a port where Love is not, The ship is in your hand, Then plunge your sword within your breast And you will reach the land." The Wanderer I saw the sunset-colored sands, The Nile like flowing fire between, Where Rameses stares forth serene, And Ammon's heavy temple stands. I saw the rocks where long ago, Above the sea that cries and breaks, Bright Perseus with Medusa's snakes Set free the maiden white like snow. And many skies have covered me, And many winds have blown me forth, And I have loved the green bright north, And I have loved the cold sweet sea. But what to me are north and south, And what the lure of many lands, Since you have leaned to catch my hands And lay a kiss upon my mouth. I Would Live in Your Love I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea, Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes; I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me, I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul as it leads. May The wind is tossing the lilacs, The new leaves laugh in the sun, And the petals fall on the orchard wall, But for me the spring is done. Beneath the apple blossoms I go a wintry way, For love that smiled in April Is false to me in May. Rispetto Was that his step that sounded on the stair? Was that his knock I heard upon the door? I grow so tired I almost cease to care, And yet I would that he might come once more. It was the wind I heard, that mocks at me, The bitter wind that is more cruel than he; It was the wind that knocked upon the door, But he will never knock nor enter more. Less than the Cloud to the Wind Less than the cloud to the wind, Less than the foam to the sea, Less than the rose to the storm Am I to thee. More than the star to the night, More than the rain to the lea, More than heaven to earth Art thou to me. Buried Love I shall bury my weary Love Beneath a tree, In the forest tall and black Where none can see. I shall put no flowers at his head, Nor stone at his feet, For the mouth I loved so much Was bittersweet. I shall go no more to his grave, For the woods are cold. I shall gather as much of joy As my hands can hold. I shall stay all day in the sun Where the wide winds blow, But oh, I shall weep at night When none will know. Song O woe is me, my heart is sad, For I should never know If Love came by like any lad, Without his silver bow. Or if he left his arrows sharp And came a minstrel weary, I'd never tell him by his harp Nor know him for my dearie. "O go your ways and have no fear, For tho' Love passes by, He'll come a hundred times, my dear, Before your turn to die." Pierrot Pierrot stands in the garden Beneath a waning moon, And on his lute he fashions A little silver tune. Pierrot plays in the garden, He thinks he plays for me, But I am quite forgotten Under the cherry tree.