When I talk with other men I always think of you-- Your words are keener than their words, And they are gentler, too. When I look at other men, I wish your face were there, With its gray eyes and dark skin And tossed black hair. When I think of other men, Dreaming alone by day, The thought of you like a strong wind Blows the dreams away. Embers I said, "My youth is gone Like a fire beaten out by the rain, That will never sway and sing Or play with the wind again." I said, "It is no great sorrow That quenched my youth in me, But only little sorrows Beating ceaselessly." I thought my youth was gone, But you returned-- Like a flame at the call of the wind It leaped and burned; Threw off its ashen cloak, And gowned anew Gave itself like a bride Once more to you. Message I heard a cry in the night, A thousand miles it came, Sharp as a flash of light, My name, my name! It was your voice I heard, You waked and loved me so-- I send you back this word, I know, I know! The Lamp If I can bear your love like a lamp before me, When I go down the long steep Road of Darkness, I shall not fear the everlasting shadows, Nor cry in terror. If I can find out God, then I shall find Him, If none can find Him, then I shall sleep soundly, Knowing how well on earth your love sufficed me, A lamp in darkness. IV A November Night There! See the line of lights, A chain of stars down either side the street-- Why can't you lift the chain and give it to me, A necklace for my throat? I'd twist it round And you could play with it. You smile at me As though I were a little dreamy child Behind whose eyes the fairies live. . . . And see, The people on the street look up at us All envious. We are a king and queen, Our royal carriage is a motor bus, We watch our subjects with a haughty joy. . . . How still you are! Have you been hard at work And are you tired to-night? It is so long Since I have seen you--four whole days, I think. My heart is crowded full of foolish thoughts Like early flowers in an April meadow, And I must give them to you, all of them, Before they fade. The people I have met, The play I saw, the trivial, shifting things That loom too big or shrink too little, shadows That hurry, gesturing along a wall, Haunting or gay--and yet they all grow real And take their proper size here in my heart When you have seen them. . . . There's the Plaza now, A lake of light! To-night it almost seems That all the lights are gathered in your eyes, Drawn somehow toward you. See the open park Lying below us with a million lamps Scattered in wise disorder like the stars.