Good-Bye, Pierrette

Good-bye, Pierrette. The new moon waits
Like some shy maiden at the gates
Of rose and pearl, to watch us stand
This little moment, hand in hand--
Nor one red rose its watch abates.

The low wind through your garden prates
Of one this twilight desolates.
Ah, was it this your roses planned?
Good-bye, Pierrette.

Oh, merriest of little mates,
No sadder lover hesitates
Beneath this moon in any land;
Nor any roses, watchful, bland,
Look on a sadder jest of Fate's.
Good-bye, Pierrette.

Theodosia Garrison

Theodosia Garrison was an American poet known for her lyrical and often melancholic verse. Born on May 26, 1874, her poetry often explored themes of love, loss, and introspection. Throughout her career, Garrison contributed to various literary magazines and became a respected figure in the early 20th-century literary circles. She passed away on August 27, 1944, leaving behind a legacy of poignant and expressive poetry.

Theodosia Garrison

When Pierrot Passes

Theodosia Garrison, Simple Poetry

A Song

Theodosia Garrison, Simple Poetry

Distance

Theodosia Garrison, Simple Poetry

The Vagabond

Theodosia Garrison, Simple Poetry

English

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When Pierrot Passes

High above his happy head
Little leaves of Spring were spread;
And adown the dewy lawn
Soft as moss the young green grass
Wooed his footsteps, and the dawn
Paused to watch him pass.
Even so he seemed in truth
Dancing between Love and Youth;
And his song as gay a thing
Still before him seemed to go
Light as any bird awing,
Blithe as jonquils in the Spring,
And we laughed and said, "Pierrot,
'Tis Pierrot."

"Oh," he sang, "Her hands are far
Sweeter than white roses are;
When I hold them to my lips,
Ere I dare a finer bliss,
Petal-like her finger-tips
Tremble 'neath my kiss.
And the mocking of her eyes
Lures me like blue butterflies
Falling--lifting--of their grace,
And her mouth--her mouth is wine."
And we laughed as ...

Theodosia Garrison

Pierrot

Pierrot stands in the garden
Beneath a waning moon,
And on his lute he fashions
A fragile silver tune.

Pierrot plays in the garden,
He thinks he plays for me,
But I am quite forgotten
Under the cherry tree.

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

Sara Teasdale

Lovelace Grown Old

I

My life has been like a bee that roves
Through a scented garden close,
And 'tis I who have kept the honey of love,
The hoarded sweetness and scent thereof,
For all I forget the rose.

Oh, exquisite gardens long forgot
That have made my store complete,
Though winter fall upon blossom and bee,
Yet the kisses I garnered remain with me
Forever and ever sweet.


II

The Priest hath had his word and said his say--
A word i' faith more honest than beguiling--
But now he turns upon his gloomy way--
Good soul, he leaves me smiling.

I may not ponder much on future wrath;
Of all those loves of mine, some six or seven,
Surely ere this have climbed that thorny path
That leads at last to Heaven.

My bold, brown beau...

Theodosia Garrison

Good-By.

Again I see that May moon shine,
Dost thou remember, soul of mine?
I held your hand in mine, you know,
And as I bent to whisper low,
A tender light was in your eye,
"Sweetheart, good-by, sweetheart, good-by."

There came a time my lips were white
Beneath the pale and cold moonlight,
And burning words I might not speak,
You read, love, in my ashen cheek,
As my whole heart breathed in this one cry,
"Sweetheart, good-by, sweetheart, good-by."

Time's waves that roll so swift and fleet
Have borne you far from me, my sweet,
Have borne you to a sunny bay,
Where brightest sunshine gilds your way,
Do these words ever dim your sky -
Sweetheart, good-by, sweetheart, good-by?

I cannot tell, but this I know
They go with me where'er I go,

Marietta Holley

The Silent One

The moon to-night is like the sun
Through blossomed branches seen;
Come out with me, dear silent one,
And trip it on the green.

"Nay, Lad, go you within its light,
Nor stay to urge me so--
'Twas on another moonlit night
My heart broke long ago."

Oh loud and high the pipers play
To speed the dancers on;
Come out and be as glad as they,
Oh, little Silent one.

"Nay, Lad, where all your mates are met
Go you the selfsame way,
Another dance I would forget
Wherein I too was gay."

But here you sit long day by day
With those whose joys are done;
What mates these townfolk old and grey
For you dear Silent one.

"Nay, Lad, they're done with joys and fears.
Rare comrades should we prove,
For they are very old with ...

Theodosia Garrison

Roses Of June.

She sat in the cottage door, and the fair June moon looked down
On a face as pure as its own, an innocent face and sweet
As the roses dewy white that grow so thick at her feet,
White royal roses, fit for a monarch's crown.

And one is clasped in her slender hand, and one on her bosom lies,
And two rare blushing buds loop up her light brown hair,
Ah, roses of June, you never looked on a face so white and fair,
Such perfectly moulded lips, such sweet and heavenly eyes.

This low-walled home is dear to her, she has come to it to-day
From the lordly groves of her palace home afar,
But not to stay; there's a light on her brow like the light of a star,
And her eyes are looking beyond the earth, far, far away.

She was born in this cottage home, the sweetest rosebud of sp...

Marietta Holley