Weather-Vane
When I was small
And it would rain
Against the widest window-pane
I'd press my face and taste despair —
And streaked with woe I'd cry
"Unfair!"
Useless to say
The clouds would pass
The lovely rain would green the grass,
Would drench the lilacs,
Wash the world.
My heart was small and tense
And curl'd
Tight as a snail…
Only the smell of sun on clover
Could make me glad the rain was over,
Could set me free to walk enchanted
The fresh, bright lanes;
Geared like a weather-vane am I
By what goes on in yonder sky!
Noel
Christmas to a little girl
When she is small,
Means a toy tea-set
Or a beautiful doll,
Or a little grey muff
With a matching fur
Beautiful beyond words
These… to her!
Christmas to a woman grown
Is different again.
It's all tangled crazily
With mistletoe and men,
With stardust and flowers
And tunes for dancing feet,
And packets out of jewellers'
Marked "My sweet!"
But best of all, later on…
Best of all three…
It's children's eyes by candlelight
Around the tree!
Immortal
We may be now a sphere apart
And yet I find you in my heart
As warm and live, as once you were.
A little stir, like candle flame
Still touches me.
Your very name
Can call you up to quicken me
To trembling silence.
You may be
To all intents and purposes
As far away as yon bright star
That pricks the midnight. Very far
A love can be… and yet… and yet…
There is no way I may forget
Your essence. The "you"
That walked my nights and days
I carry with me, deep inside,
As much a part of me as eyes
Or hands or lips — or sudden laughter!