Standing By
I see him always standing by,
In the shadows, soon, or late,
When the storm-swept winter sky
Hides the joys for which I wait,
When the sunlight stays my sigh,
Always—he is standing by.
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Romantic, Anna M. Johnson, in English Clear filters
Close-Pressed
If I could press you to my heart just once,
Just for a moment let you lie close-pressed
As flowers within a book
Lie pressed between its leaves,
Then you would stay within my memory,
Where I could see your face, your every look,
And hold the imprint that my heart so weaves
Of all I thought I could not thus renounce.
If
If I could come to you
When things of life go wrong,
That ready smile you give
So bright like fresh-brushed drops
From morning’s dew,
Would make me wish to live,
Would send an endless song
Into my heart, stop all discord,
As music soothes a weary breast.
All this— if I could come to you.
Coming Home
No matter where my soul shall rest,
I must return to look upon your face;
So long as love is openly confessed
Upon your features where its signs I trace,
I will come home to you.
But should these emblems wear away,
Of that bright light I lived to see,
And your dear features fail to signal me
To feast upon your smile, by night by day,
I will not come again.
Such Tenderness
There was such tenderness,
Such restful tenderness,
In those last words you spoke to me,
That soothed, this restlessness’
Gave way and ceased to be.
Love Songs
Birds sing love-songs from apple trees,
From boughs soft-swinging in the breeze,
And carelessly in joyous glee
Trill freely to their brides to be;
But birds are oh, so fetterless!
They warble not in bitternesss,
And never words from lips compressed,
Can rob them of loves truest test —
A heart-song sung within a nest.
Crossings
Give me your hand to hold, dear one,
I must not cross this turbid stream alone:
Your hand tight-held will make a stepping-stone
For all of me that has to cross so soon.
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