Cross Roads

IV. I USED TO WRITE

     I used to write so many songs of love—
        I wrote them carefully, I did not know
     That love was more than moonlight from above,
        And pretty words set in an even row,
     I held my pencil calmly in my hand,
        And sang of arms and lips and tender eyes;
     I wrote of love—who did not understand—
        And hoped that folk would think me very wise!

     I used to write so many songs... To-day
        My hands are folded, and I cannot sing,
     I sit, instead, and watch the sunlight stray
        Across my desk.  And I am wondering
     If God, who lights a million stars each night,
     Laughed at the groping words I tried to write!