Three Songs

I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give --
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.

I am alone, as though I stood
On the highest peak of the tired gray world,
About me only swirling snow,
Above me, endless space unfurled;

With earth hidden and heaven hidden,
And only my own spirit's pride
To keep me from the peace of those
Who are not lonely, having died.

Alone in the night
     On a dark hill
With pines around me
     Spicy and still,

And a heaven full of stars
     Over my head,
White and topaz
     And misty red;

Myriads with beating
     Hearts of fire
That aeons
     Cannot vex or tire;

Up the dome of heaven
     Like a great hill,
I watch them marching
     Stately and still,

And I know that I
     Am honored to be
Witness
     Of so much majesty.

I thought I had forgotten,
But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
In a rush of rain.
I remembered a darkened doorway
Where we stood while the storm swept by,
Thunder gripping the earth
And lightning scrawled on the sky.
The passing motor busses swayed,
For the street was a river of rain,
Lashed into little golden waves
In the lamp light’s stain.
With the wild spring rain and thunder
My heart was wild and gay;
Your eyes said more to me that night
Than your lips would ever say. . . .
I thought I had forgotten,
But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
In a rush of rain.