Four Songs for High Voice and Piano

The eyes that mock me sign the way
Whereto I pass at eve of day,

Grey way whose violet signals are
The trysting and the twining star.

Ah star of evil! star of pain!
Highhearted youth comes not again

Nor old heart's wisdom yet to know
The signs that mock me as I go.

Take him, earth, for cherishing
 . . . . . . . . . .

— The rest of this text is not
currently in the database but will be
added as soon as we obtain it. —

It was not in the Winter
  Our loving lot was cast;
It was the time of roses -
  We pluck'd them as we [pass'd]1!

[That]2 churlish season never frown'd
  On early lovers yet:
O no - the world was newly crown'd
  With flowers [when first we]3 met!

'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
  But still you held me fast;
It was the time of roses -
  We pluck'd them as we pass'd!

Since thou, O fondest and truest, 
Hast loved me best and longest, 
And now with trust the strongest 
The joy of my heart renewest ; 

Since thou art dearer and dearer 
While other hearts grow colder, 
And ever, as love is older, 
More lovingly drawest nearer : 

Since now I see in the measure 
Of all my giving and taking, 
Thou wert my hand in the making, 
The sense and soul of my pleasure; 

The good I have ne'er repaid thee 
In heaven I pray be recorded, 
And all thy love rewarded 
By God, thy master that made thee.