Perhaps the singing days of love are done

Perhaps the singing days of love are done,
Now that all joy is perfect in our love ;
For now no longer by sweet words
May I make days yet sweeter than they seem :
My words of love by deeds of love outrun ,
Ghosts of what once they were ,
Dance out no dream
You do not now as sweetened truth believe .

Yet as a random gust , where wood has charred ,
May fan to one brief flame a fading spark ,
Love wakes this last song now :
The singing days in their own day were sweet ,
Their songs , remembered , still that sweetness guard :
While we united know ,
With joy complete ,
The greatest love has the least need to speak .

26 July 1953

A gift so small on such a date

A gift so small on such a date
Reflects the churlishness of fate ,
That grudges me by gifts to show
True measure of the love below ;
Fortune’s caprice I cannot wait —
Change when it may , ’tis still too late ;
My gift but measures my estate :
Think then no scorn that I bestow
A gift so small .

Your worth no censure can abate ,
No praise can lend too high a rate :
Though with the years my power may grow
To match my will , for this time know
None ever gave with love more great
A gift so small .

23 July 1953