And naught I spend my heart upon
Know lack or loss that I am gone—
A bird, a wild-flower and a tree,
I cherish them; they suffer me!
Last Things
THERE is no one to do it for me,
But I know what I shall do
When the last dawn breaks o’er me
And the last night is through.
I shall set in pleasant order
The little books I knew,
With flowers on the window ledge
In a shallow bowl of blue.
I’ll leave the out door swinging,
(As it might swing for you)
And on the clean swept door-sill
Wild roses I shall strew—
So when pale Death comes trailing
Her branch of sodden rue
She’ll gather up my gay content
And know contentment too!
Callous Cupid
CUPID does not care for sighs
Does not care for lover’s weeping!
Fair One, dry your pretty eyes,
Cupid does not care for sighs,
Laugh with him if you are wise,
Steel the heart he has in keeping;
Cupid does not care for sighs
Does not care for lover’s weeping!