Thank God that here we two have stood,
Thank God this shade was ours to win;
Time with his axe has marked our wood
And he will let the daylight in.
The enchanted garden.
Oh, what a garden it was, living gold, living
Full of enchantments like spices embalming the air,
There, where you fled and I followed—you ever unseen,
Yet each glad pulse of me cried to my heart, “She is there!”
Roses and lilies and lilies and roses again,
Tangle of leaves and white magic of blossoming trees,
Sunlight that lay where, last moment, your footstep had lain—
Was not the garden enchanted that proffered me these?
Ah, what a garden it is since I caught you at last—
Scattered the magic and shattered the spell with a kiss:
Wintry and dreary and cold with the wind of the past,
Ah that a garden enchanted should wither to this!
The poor man’s guest.
One came to me in royal guise
With banners flying fair and free
But many griefs had made me wise
And I refused to bow the knee.
Then one drew near who bore the flower
Of all the flowers of June and May;
But many griefs had lent me power
And I was strong to turn away.
Then came a beggar to my gate
With shoulders bowed to sorrow’s pack,
So weary and so desolate
I had no heart to turn him back.
I let him share my board, my bed,
I warmed him in my shrinking breast,
I gave him all I had, and said:
“You, only you, have been my guest.
“Love passed in many a fair disguise
But never could an entrance win,
But you came in such piteous wise,
Poor friend, I could but let you in.”
Low laughed my guest: “Kind friend!”
And dropped the rags he was weary of;
And I, betrayed, saw over me
The terrible face of outraged Love.
In the shallows.
Among the shallows where the sand
Is golden and the waves are small,
I love to lie, and to my hand
How many little treasures fall!
What shells and seaweed grace the shore,
What happy birds on happy wings,
And for companions, what a store
Of humble, happy, living things!
Yet the sea’s depths are also mine,
And in the old days I used to dive
Into the caves, where corals shine
And where the shimmering mer-folk live.
I am the master of the sea
In deeps where fairy flowers uncurl;
That treasure-house belongs to me,
Those amber halls, those stairs of pearl.
But now thereto I go no more,
Because of all the argosies,
Deep sunk upon the ocean floor,
Where all the world’s lost treasure lies.
Where loveless laughter curls the lips
Of wild sea creatures at their sport
About the bones of noble ships,
My ships, that never came to port.