Part 3

Pierrot plays in the garden, And all the roses know That Pierrot loves his music,-- But I love Pierrot.

Wild Asters

In the spring I asked the daisies If his words were true, And the clever, clear-eyed daisies Always knew.

Now the fields are brown and barren, Bitter autumn blows, And of all the stupid asters Not one knows.

The Song for Colin

I sang a song at dusking time Beneath the evening star, And Terence left his latest rhyme To answer from afar.

Pierrot laid down his lute to weep, And sighed, "She sings for me." But Colin slept a careless sleep Beneath an apple tree.

Four Winds

"Four winds blowing through the sky, You have seen poor maidens die, Tell me then what I shall do That my lover may be true." Said the wind from out the south, "Lay no kiss upon his mouth," And the wind from out the west, "Wound the heart within his breast," And the wind from out the east, "Send him empty from the feast," And the wind from out the north, "In the tempest thrust him forth; When thou art more cruel than he, Then will Love be kind to thee."

Debt

What do I owe to you Who loved me deep and long? You never gave my spirit wings Or gave my heart a song.

But oh, to him I loved, Who loved me not at all, I owe the open gate That led through heaven's wall.

Faults

They came to tell your faults to me, They named them over one by one; I laughed aloud when they were done, I knew them all so well before,-- Oh, they were blind, too blind to see Your faults had made me love you more.

Buried Love

I have come to bury Love Beneath a tree, In the forest tall and black Where none can see.

I shall put no flowers at his head, Nor stone at his feet, For the mouth I loved so much Was bittersweet.

I shall go no more to his grave, For the woods are cold. I shall gather as much of joy As my hands can hold.

I shall stay all day in the sun Where the wide winds blow,-- But oh, I shall cry at night When none will know.

The Fountain

All through the deep blue night The fountain sang alone; It sang to the drowsy heart Of the satyr carved in stone.

The fountain sang and sang, But the satyr never stirred-- Only the great white moon In the empty heaven heard.

The fountain sang and sang While on the marble rim The milk-white peacocks slept, And their dreams were strange and dim.

Bright dew was on the grass, And on the ilex, dew, The dreamy milk-white birds Were all a-glisten, too.

The fountain sang and sang The things one cannot tell; The dreaming peacocks stirred And the gleaming dew-drops fell.

I Shall Not Care

When I am dead and over me bright April Shakes out her rain-drenched hair, Though you should lean above me broken-hearted, I shall not care.

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough, And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now.