Harriet Monroe

O Love, my love, it's over then—Your heart flies free;
And it's now no more us two again,
The door on you and me
And it's now no more the supper spread,

Dear Wanderer— The sky is gray,
With flecks of blue The clouds rush over
A bird is singing Far away,
And butterflies Taste of the clover

EN sunshine met the wave,  Then love was born;
Then Venus rose to save  A world forlorn
For light a thousand wings          Of joy unfurled,
And bound with golden rings  The icy world

I See the snow-drops flutter Their white wings in the gale
I hear the robin utter On high his gallant tale
Look where the rash wind chases With clouds the climbing sun
The day makes merry faces— Gaily her gray steeds run

Bluer than Helen's eyes she lies Under the blue cloud-drifting skies;
A daughter fair of light and air Dropped among warrior mountains there
White glaciers kiss her feet so fleet— Oh fugitive, too rare and sweet
Will she not fling t...

II
VE my life, but not too well To give it to thee like a flower,
So it may pleasure thee to dwell Deep in its perfume but an hour
I love my life, but not too well

Flowers grow in the grass,
Baby footfalls pass Over the fields once red,
Over the hero's head— For Peace
The earth, through her leafy veil,