Time does not bring relief: you all have lied Who told me time would ease me of my pain! I miss him in the weeping of the rain: I want him at the shrinking of the tide; The old snows melt from ev'ry mountain side, And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane; But last year's bitter loving must remain Heaped on my heart and my old thoughts abide. There are a hundred places where I fear To go, so with his memory they brim. And entering with relief some quiet place where never fell his foot or shone his face. I say "There is no mem'ry of him here," And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
Greyed Sonnets: Five Serious Songs
 [incomplete]Song Cycle by Judith Lang Zaimont
1. Soliloquy  [sung text not yet checked]
Text Authorship:
- by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950), no title, appears in Renascence and Other Poems, in Sonnets, no. 2, first published 1917
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]2. Let it be forgotten
Let it be forgotten as a flower is forgotten, Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold. Let it be forgotten forever and ever. Time is a kind friend, he will make us old. If anyone asks, say it was forgotten, Long and long ago. As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed foot-fall In a long forgotten snow.
Text Authorship:
- by Sara Teasdale (1884 - 1933), "Let it be forgotten", appears in Flame and Shadow, first published 1920
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , "Qu'il soit oublié", copyright © 2022, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
3. A season's song
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in the database but will be added
as soon as we obtain it. —
4. Love's autumn
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in the database but will be added
as soon as we obtain it. —
5. Entreaty
Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years. Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, Whose waking should have been in Paradise, Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet; Where thirsty longing eyes Watch the slow door That opening, letting in, lets out no more. Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death: Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago!
Text Authorship:
- by Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830 - 1894), "Echo", written 1854
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , "Echo", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]