In Praise of Youth

O delicate youth, thy praises shall be sung While yet my heart is young . . . While Life and I, in search of lovely things, Go out with dancing feet and dreaming eyes, And find wild Folly, with her rainbow wings, Sweeter than all the wisdom of the wise.

O delicate Youth, thy praises shall be sung While yet my heart is young . . . Thy whiteness, and thy brightness, and the sweet Flushed softness of thy little restless feet . . . The tossed and sunny tangle of thy hair, Thy swiftness, slimness, shyness, simpleness, That set the old folk sighing for the rare Red rose of Joy thy careless days possess.

. . . And when at last, with sad, indifferent face, I walk in narrow pathways patiently; Forgetful of thy beauty, and thy truth, Thy ringing laughter, thy rebellious grace . . . When fair Love turns his face away from me . . . Then, let me die, O delicate sweet Youth!

 

 

 

 

Opal Song

Shy and wild . . . shy and wild To my lovers I have been. Frank and wayward as a child, Strange and secret as a queen; Fain of love, and love beguiled, Yet afraid of love, I ween!

False and true . . . false and true Is the woman's heart in me . . . Fair lost faces that I rue, Golden friends I laugh to see, Changing, I come back to you, Never doubt my loyalty!

 

 

 

 

Gifts

Come near! you are my friend and I will wear Gems for your sake, and flowers in my hair; Garments of silver gauze, and cloth of gold . . . And I will give you power to have and hold, And passion, and delight and ecstasy. What will you give to me?

 Prev. P 12/19 next