The world’s a path all rough and wild, A sky all black with fears, Among the ghosts, unhappy child, You stumble, blind with tears; The track is faint, and far the fold, And very far the day: Unless you have a hand to hold, How will you find the way? “LOVE WELL THE HOUR” Heart of my heart, my life and light, If you were lost what should I do? I dare not let you from my sight, Lest Death should fall in love with you. Such countless terrors lie in wait. The gods know well how dear you are: What if they left me desolate And plucked and set you for their star? So hold my hand--the gods are strong, And perfect joy so rare a flower No man may hope to keep it long, And I might lose it any hour. So, kiss me close, my star, my flower, Thus shall the future spare me this: The thought that there was ever an hour We might have kissed and did not kiss. BETRAYED I went back to our home to-day That still its robe of roses wore; My feet took the old easy way, And led me to our door. And you are gone and never more Those little feet of yours will come To meet me at the open door, The threshold of our home. The door unlatched did not protest: I entered, and the silence drew My steps towards the little nest That once I shared with you. There lay your fan, your open book, Your seam half-sewn, and I could see The window whence you used to look-- Yes, once you looked--for me. Print of your little head caressed Our pillow still, and on the floor Still lay, dropped there when last you dressed, The scarf and rose you wore. All should have spoken of you plain, Yet, when I bade the silence tell Of you, my bidding was in vain, I could not break its spell. The silence would not speak, my dear, Till the last level light grew dim; Then, in the twilight I could hear; The silence spoke--of him. THE HEART OF SADNESS It is not, Dear, because I am alone, I am lonelier when the rest are near, But that my place against your heart has grown Too dear to dream of when you are not here. I weep because my thoughts no more may roam To meet, half-way, your longing thoughts of me, To turn with these and spread glad wings for home, For the dear haven where I fain would be. When first we loved, I loved to steal away To show to solitude what love could do, To fill the waste space of the night and day With thousand-wingèd dreams that flew to you; But now through many tears I am grown wise To know how mighty and how dear love is; I dare not turn to him my longing eyes, Nor even in dreams lean out my face to his,