Produced by Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
1923 THE STRATFORD CO., PUBLISHERS Boston, Massachusetts
Copyright, 1923 The STRATFORD CO., Publishers Boston, Mass.
The Alpine Press, Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
Friend of my heart when you’re away I fashion for my tongue, A thousand things to say to you But dear heart when you come,
How needless is my well formed phrase, And my care chosen words, Take swift and sudden flight away, Like small wind-riven birds.
And with you here, my full glad heart Can only say, you’ve come. For all your touching, pleading ways But serve to make me dumb.
Long, long ago in our old street Back from the busy road, An old deserted stone house stood Breaking beneath its load.
Such ruin that remained of peaks Stood out against the skies. And the memory of old things Looked from behind its eyes.
In summer time this dead old house Set in its flowery space. One likened to a stranger In a much too friendly place.
In winter time its creaking frame With all its falling beams, Was like a sea rocked sailor Grown weary of his dreams.
It leaned a little westward. And now I think it knew, And was waiting other voices It long had listened to.
Once I was part of this old ruin When I myself were young. Out of pity I must leave you And half the song unsung.
I am grown weary for new scenes But not of human make. But O! for hills and long green fields, A splintered, glittering lake.
This day I am an intimate With sky and bird and tree. With budding boughs and turbulent streams And God’s immensity.
I am enamored with fresh days Drenched with rain and sun. The tho’t of thine omnipotence O! God has made me dumb.
Thy goodness is so wide, a thing Beat, for me slower time. I cannot sing so great a song In one short life like mine.
I have known the beauty Of a firegold west. And from the hurt in rainsong I shall never rest.
I heard the water running From a green hill’s crest, But what is sweet in sorrow Hearts remember best.
I see thee now thine innocence Writ on thy soul’s clear skies. Thy laughter loving mouth Thy love provoking eyes.