Poems by Carmen Sylva

Thy soul grows silent, when its accents are
Disturbed, and low thy heart, when dark a burden
...

Thou wouldst not be avenged if thou hadst but
Insight enough into the human heart,
Into its fr...

If green the corn and burning the volcano,
Though snowclad, buried under rocks of ice,
Why s...

These ever wakeful eyes are closed. They saw
Such grief, that they could see no more. The heart...

We hammer, hammer, hammer on and on,
Day-out, day-in, throughout the year,
In blazing hea...

Beneath the mild sun vanish the vapor's last wet traces,
And for the autumn sowing the mellow s...

The shadow of your threshold is so full
Of meaning, that the stranger knows what home
Is yours...

Each flower is a sentinel of God,
And ev'ry tree and ev'ry grassblade. Not
An unseen little st...

Fetch on your scissors, your slender blade--
To make them brilliant and sharp's my trade;
To ...

Thy sadness is a leaden shroud, a rock
Of Sisyphus, which thou must upward roll
By night and ...

Whitewashed or panelled, filled with books, with light,
With flowers, with trifles sacred to...

My lot grew lighter day by day;
The children grew apace;
I built a little house last May--
N...

The island city sleeps. The twilight rideth
Gold-shod above San Marco's treasure-plunder;
As i...

When dark thy childhood, tears and grief have filled
Thy swelling heart, that understood too m...

The wind hath whirled the leaves from off the tree.
The leaves were yellow, they had lived thei...