And as the evening to the earth, Came love to me, a boon most rare; Hushed every sorrow at its birth, And turned complaining into prayer. A BUTTERFLY A butterfly hovered over a flower, In a bower, With the joy of life at his lips for an hour. With the rose's petals against his wings, And the rose's perfume that steals and clings Touching every breath with a wondrous power. Then the Night came on, and the wind blew cold O'er the wold. The butterfly shivered, grown tired and old; The rose closed her passionate eyes and slept, While death to her lover in silence crept; He died of a joy untold. DISAPPOINTMENT How little there is that e'er goes right In this old world of ours. Anticipation? a vague delight; Reality? well, the rose with a blight, The thorn that comes with the flowers. TO THE SEA What can I sing to thee Oh! thrice-beloved sea? What words can paint thy grace, The beauty of thy face, Enrapt with ecstasy? Fling up thy foamy arms, Laden with cooling balms, And touch me where I stand Here on the yearning land, With soft embrace that calms. I gaze into thine eyes, Where mystic shadow lies, And lovelights glow and gleam Within their emerald beam, And passion lives and dies— Until my heart grows still Beneath thy magic will, And I can hear and see Naught but thy song and thee, That seems the world to fill. Upon thy swelling breast Restless and yet at rest, My spirit floats and sings, While Summer laughs and springs From off thy snow-white crest. Behold my hot desire For thee to quench the fire, With dewy kiss that slips From thy divine, wet lips, Making my joy entire. Lift up thine endless song, And echo it along Until all space rejoice, In thine enchanted voice, That sounds so sweet and strong. Until the rocks and beach Break forth in answering speech, And every listening shell Some praise of thee can tell; Some joy of thee can teach. Oh, sea that knows no death! Oh, life-inspiring breath! The heart of me would praise The glory of thy days, Thine evenings, fathomless. The soul in me would sing To that eternal Spring Beneath thy heaving breast, Where lurk the depths of rest, The end of everything. AFTER ALL? The gladness and the pain, The sunshine and the rain, The laughter and the sigh, They all must pass and die; And in the by-and-by, Who'll care to question why? YOU You have my thoughts and know it not. The livelong day I think of you, The still, dark night I dream of you, Each moment's life I live to you, And yet you know it not.