Only In SleepOnly in sleep I see their faces,Children I played with when I was a child,Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,Annie with ringlets warm and wild.Only in sleep Time is forgotten --What may have come to them, who can know?Yet we played last night as long ago,And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair.The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces,I met their eyes and found them mild --Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder,And for them am I too a child?

At MidnightNow at last I have come to see what life is,Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun,And the brave victories that seem so splendidAre never really won.Even love that I built my spirit's house for,Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest,And music and men's praise and even laughterAre not so good as rest.

The UnchangingSun-swept beaches with a light wind blowingFrom the immense blue circle of the sea,And the soft thunder where long waves whiten—These were the same for Sappho as for me.Two thousand years—much has gone by forever,Change takes the gods and ships and speech of men—But here on the beaches that time passes overThe heart aches now as then.

A CryOh, there are eyes that he can see, And hands to make his hands rejoice,But to my lover I must be Only a voice.Oh, there are breasts to bear his head, And lips whereon his lips can lie,But I must be till I am dead Only a cry.

PainWaves are the sea's white daughters,And raindrops the children of rain,But why for my shimmering bodyHave I a mother like Pain?Night is the mother of stars,And wind the mother of foam—The world is brimming with beauty,But I must stay at home.

I almost gave my life long ago for a thingThat has gone to dust now, stinging my eyes—It is strange how often a heart must be brokenBefore the years can make it wise.