Explore "Songs" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
You came and you went, and I swept you aside, not a trace / Does my wisdom endure of your words and your beautiful face / And the curls of your hair; / Yet your presence, a song, murmurs ever in hopeless refrain, / And I wake in the night with my empty hands yearning in vain / For the touch of your hair.
You went, and I triumphed -- I crushed out my heart with a kiss / On the lips that are ashen, forgetting spring's wonderful bliss / And your tremulous lips; / Yet the kisses were ghostly with jasmine, dear jasmine of May -- / The new has the soul of the old, is aflame with the way / And the touch of your lips.