I will not even touch your shining head--
But lift your eyes up, flower-face,
And I will fill them as full of love
As they can hold!

IV

Ah no! If you were here
I would sweep you into my arms and hold you close!
Though my love is of the spirit
I must feel your little restless body
Pressed for a moment against my heart.

Summer Night

Rain, rain murmuring endless complaints
In mournful whisperings that never cease,
You bring my tired brain a certain peace
Like Latin prayers to absent-minded saints.

And whether silently to earth you fall,
Or dashed and driven in tempestuous flight
Like souls before God's wrath, the thirsty night,
The soft and fecund earth shall drink you all.

Maura

I

Maura dreams unwakened--