Once, when I was young and true,
Someone left me sad-
Broke my brittle heart in two;
And that is very bad.
A dream lies dead here. May you softly go
Before this place, and turn away your eyes,
Nor seek to know the look of that which dies
Importuning Life for life. Walk not in woe,
Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head,
And drink your rushing words with eager lips,
And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red,
And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips.
I think that I shall never know
Why I am thus, and I am so.
Around me, other girls inspire
In men the rush and roar of fire,
Star, that gives a gracious dole,
What am I to choose?
Oh, will it be a shriven soul,
Or little buckled shoes?
I think, no matter where you stray,
That I shall go with you a way.
Though you may wander sweeter lands,
You will not soon forget my hands,
A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -
One perfect rose.
In April, in April,
My one love came along,
And I ran the slope of my high hill
To follow a thread of song.
When I am old, and comforted,
And done with this desire,
With Memory to share my bed
And Peace to share my fire,
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.