Enough Rope

In April, in April, My one love came along, And I ran the slope of my high hill To follow a thread of song.

His eyes were hard as porphyry With looking on cruel lands; His voice went slipping over me Like terrible silver hands.

Together we trod the secret lane And walked the muttering town. I wore my heart like a wet, red stain On the breast of a velvet gown.

In April, in April, My love went whistling by, And I stumbled here to my high hill Along the way of a lie.

Now what should I do in this place But sit and count the chimes, And splash cold water on my face And spoil a page with rhymes?

Ghosts of all my lovely sins, Who attend too well my pillow, Gay the wanton rain begins; Hide the limp and tearful willow,

Turn aside your eyes and ears, Trail away your robes of sorrow. You shall have my further years,— You shall walk with me to-morrow.

I am sister to the rain; Fey and sudden and unholy, Petulant at the windowpane, Quickly lost, remembered slowly.

I have lived with shades, a shade; I am hung with graveyard flowers. Let me be to-night arrayed In the silver of the showers.

Every fragile thing shall rust; When another April passes I may be a furry dust, Sifting through the brittle grasses.

All sweet sins shall be forgot Who will live to tell their siring? Hear me now, nor let me rot Wistful still, and still aspiring.

Ghosts of dear temptations, heed; I am frail, be you forgiving. See you not that I have need To be living with the living?

Sail, to-night, the Styx's breast; Glide among the dim processions Of the exquisite unblest. Spirits of my shared transgressions.

Roam with young Persephone, Plucking poppies for your slumber... With the morrow, there shall be One more wraith among your number.

Little white love, your way you've taken; Now I am left alone, alone. Little white love, my heart's forsaken. (Whom shall I get by telephone?) Well do I know there's no returning; Once you go out, it's done, it's done. All of my days are gray with yearning. (Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.)

Little white love, perplexed and weary, Sadly your banner fluttered down. Sullen the days, and dreary, dreary. (Which of the boys is still in town?) Radiant and sure, you came a-flying; Puzzled, you left on lagging feet. Slow in my breast, my heart is dying. (Nevertheless, a girl must eat.)

Little white love, I hailed you gladly; Now I must wave you out of sight. Ah, but you used me badly, badly. (Who'd like to take me out to-night?) All of the blundering words I've spoken, Little white love, forgive, forgive. Once you went out, my heart fell, broken. (Nevertheless, a girl must live.)