Ah, the place we used to meet,
I and she,—where sharp you turn,
Shun the curious village street,
Lurk thro' hollows, hide in fern!
Then; the old house, ample-eaved,
Night-long quiet beneath the stars,—
How the maples, many-leaved,
Screened us at the orchard bars!
Path by which her feet have gone,
Still you climb the windy hill;
Still the hillside fronts the dawn,
Fronts the clustering village still;
But no longer she, my own,
Treads you, save as dreams allow.
And these eyes in dreams alone
Dare to look upon you now.
TOUT OU RIEN.
Love, if you love me, love with heart and soul!
I am not liberal as some lovers are,
Accepting small return, and scanty dole,
Gratefully glad to worship from afar.
Ah, love me passionately, or not at all!
For love that counts the cost I have small need.
My fingers would with laughing scorn let fall
That poor half-love so many lovers heed.
Then be mine wholly,—body, soul, and brain!
Your memory shall outlive kings. For Time
Forgets his cunning and assails in vain
Her whose name rings along the poet's rhyme.
SALT.
O breath of wind and sea,
Bitter and clear,
Now my faint soul springs free,
Blown clean from fear!