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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d4eb773 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53099 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53099) diff --git a/old/53099-0.txt b/old/53099-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5318bc8..0000000 --- a/old/53099-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2673 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Willow Pollen, by Jeannette Augustus Marks - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Willow Pollen - -Author: Jeannette Augustus Marks - -Release Date: September 20, 2016 [EBook #53099] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILLOW POLLEN *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - - - WILLOW POLLEN - - - - - WILLOW POLLEN - - BY - - JEANNETTE MARKS - - [Illustration: colophon] - - BOSTON - - THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY - 1921 - - _Copyright, 1921, by_ - THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY - - - The Four Seas Press - Boston, Mass., U. S. A. - - - - - TO - - THE MEMORY OF - MY MOTHER - - JEANNETTE HOLMES COLWELL MARKS - - - - -ACKNOWLEDGMENT - - -Many of these poems were first published in _Ainslee’s_, _Bellman_, -_Century_, _Churchman_, _Contemporary Verse_, _Everybody’s_, _Freeman_, -_Forum_, _Holland’s Magazine_, _McClure’s_, _Metropolitan_, _Nation_, -_New Republic_, _North American Review_, _Outlook_, _Poetry_ (Chicago), -_Poetry Journal_, _The Bookman_, _Smart Set_ and other magazines. - - Fleur de Lys - September 27, 1920. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - Page - -PROEM 11 - -WILLOW POLLEN 13 - -YOU 14 - -CROSS ROADS 15 - -CALENDAR 16 - -WILD GRAPE VINE 19 - -TO SOME FLOWERS 21 - -STARS 22 - -GREEN GOLDEN DOOR 23 - -BREAD 24 - -OBSCURITY 26 - -BROWN MOTHER 30 - -SEA GULLS 32 - -DRAGON 33 - -THE WANDERER 34 - -BLIND SLEEP 35 - -THE BOWL 36 - -WHITE HAIR 39 - -CLEAR POOLS 40 - -THESE TWO 41 - -THE RAILROAD STATION 43 - -BUBBLES 44 - -PEDDLED JOY 45 - -WORK 46 - -SOMEWHERE TONIGHT 47 - -YOUR SUNLIT WAY 48 - -STRANGE FACES 49 - -EVERYWHERE 50 - -CLOUD 51 - -BUCENTAUR 52 - -MOTH 53 - -GRAY WATERS 54 - -JOURNEY’S END 55 - -WHITE PATHS 56 - -EBONY 57 - -TO SOME PHILADELPHIA SPARROWS 58 - -ORIOLE’S NEST 59 - -LITTLE MISS HILLY 60 - -ROSE TOADA 61 - -THATCH 62 - -SUN PATH 63 - -RAVELLO 64 - -CHESTER-ON-THE DEE 65 - -THE RIVER SEIONT 66 - -GOLD AND IVORY 67 - -STEPS 68 - -BESIDE THE WAY 69 - -WAIT AWHILE 70 - -INDIAN SUMMER 71 - -A THOUSAND YEARS 72 - -THE BROKEN DOOR 73 - -ONLY YOUR NAME 74 - -REPETENDS 75 - -TOO LATE 76 - -THE TIDE 77 - -DUST AND DREAMS 78 - -THE NEST 79 - -LOST LOVE 80 - -“WHEN SPRING” 81 - -TWO CANDLES 82 - -ROSY MILLER 84 - -HIS NAME 85 - -MIST 86 - -LAST DAWN 87 - -EVEN AS HERE 88 - -AGAIN? 90 - - - - - WILLOW POLLEN - - - - - PROEM - - - _Beautiful she was to look upon_ - _And beautiful to know,_ - _And all who knew her loved her._ - _There was none to whom she was not tender,_ - _Compassionate in her word or her silence;_ - _There was none of whom she did not think well._ - - _In a quiet room, my head upon her breast,_ - _Often have I heard her heart beat,_ - _Often have I listened to the voice of her heart,_ - _And its speech was the speech of many sorrows._ - _But of her own sorrows she spoke not;_ - _She spoke only of the grief that came to her for healing;_ - _And her speech was silence,_ - _Murmur of wind,_ - _Mute spaces of sky,--_ - _These were her caresses and her healing,_ - _And with silence and wind and sky she is now one,--_ - _Not separate._ - - _She is gone._ - _Remember her if you will!_ - _For me she is still everywhere_ - _And never to be forgotten!_ - _Out of the dawn_ - _The fringed lashes of blue gentians widen to her eyes;_ - _Through the hot day_ - _The shadow of her presence revolves upon me_ - _As the cool finger on the sun dial;_ - _In the afternoon_ - _Shaken light burns in the memory of her hair;_ - _And at evening_ - _All my thoughts go fluttering, gray-winged, after her,_ - _Till she gathers them in to the nest of her silence_ - _And I am come back to my Mother_ - _And to sleep._ - - - - - WILLOW POLLEN - - _Fleur de Lys on Lake Champlain, June 3, 1920_ - - - The rain upon my roof is the rain of apple blossoms, - At my feet the water willows stand knee-deep in rushes; - A swaying mirror for the sun the lake swings and tips, - Spilling broken drowsy shadows and silver leaves. - In the willow pollen the bees hum; - In the apple bloom the bees hum; - Fluttering up like a begging hand - The ash tree twirls its mystic seven-fold leaf, - The thrush its song. - - O beautiful world, what are you? - And who made you? - Are you no more than a fragrant dream, - A jewelled crust of loam for sun to shine upon, - A swaying mirror, - Willow pollen, - A twirling song, - A crumbling leaf? - - - - - YOU - - - I - - You are the sunshine, - I am the sod: - Flame to my leaf-mould, - And goldenrod. - - - II - - You are the shadow, - I am the rock: - Coolness of sheep bells, - Stilling the flock. - - - III - - You are the starlight, - I am the stream: - Trees dripping lustre - Into our dream. - - - - - CROSS ROADS - - - I wonder if the wildrose knows I love you,-- - All the festivals of spring your name has lain - Now a petal on my bosom, now a leaf against my lip - In the rain? - - I wonder if the wood thrush knows I love you,-- - Every step a song, every song a flight home to you - While the path runs on through twilight and the night wheels back to day - And I pray? - - I wonder if the heavens know I love you,-- - Dusky night-time cupped with stars, lily day immaculate - Leading on unto the cross roads where you and I - Say goodbye? - - - - - CALENDAR - - _Of a Little Garden on Lake Champlain_ - - - Sometimes the sun, like a big bee - Choosing the flowers he will bring to bloom, - Dreams over my garden, - So still the dust shines on his burning wings. - And sometimes he swings away towards the evening star - To fill his basket claws with night. - Come morning he sprinkles darkness with his gold, - Rubs legs together--I saw him do it-- - And there’s a purple larkspur tapering into rose - And blood-red columbine,-- - It’s July then. - Or the big bee finds a flaming dawn, - Scours it with pollen from his back - And there’s a poppy’s glossy wrinkled cup,-- - Then it’s June. - - At times he scoops the white crest off a wave - Into the basket of his claws-- - I’ve seen the big bee skip upon the lake for joy-- - Then zi-ig! He’s back again - Spreading some lilies by the sandy path, - White with gold dashed on their lips - Where he clings--the big bee--sucking. - I know he’s there because the bells ring so: - Seven lilies, then five, then four, - I count them on their stems, - An octave’s length of melody, - A little running song of happiness,-- - It’s August then. - - But now he’s quiet. - Some waste of gold in autumn leaves and fields, - And gold upon the lake--pale leaf of drifting waters - Cut by the wild duck’s close, sharp flight--frets him. - For he must store in steep sky granaries much bannered gold - With which to hang a hundred winter dawns and dusks. - Still, he spares a little for my garden’s need, - Spreading it in marigolds and frost,-- - It is September then,--October, too. - - The bee, the big bee, the burning bee - Begins and ends in gold. - In spring, knocking the snow from rosy apple bloom, - He climbs the sky with fagots on his back - To scatter them in yellow willow twigs and daffodils; - And when he leaves my garden for his sleep, - Flings daffodils along an evening sky,-- - It’s May then, and April, too. - - Some say there are no sky daffodils and no big bee. - Pooh! I say the sun is a bee, a big bee, a burning bee, - And bears the whole world’s wealth upon his back. - What if he is a ruby humming bird betimes - Or a saffron butterfly - Or a gray-hooded moth at dusk! - - I’ve seen him when he was an emerald dragon fly - About my little garden’s pool, - But not for long. - He has his mysteries. - His winter’s cell of silver white has neither rose nor red nor gold. - Who would not like the change?... - I say the sun is a bee, a big bee, a burning bee, - I _know_! - - - - - WILD GRAPE VINE - - - I will be like a wild grape vine, - I will climb the sun gathering color; - Until every leaf of my being is fluted with rose, - Cupped in brown-gold, - Dusted with silver. - I will cling with my dry stem - Until my stem is strong as brown cedar. - Then will I swing from tree to tree, - Twisting, turning, blowing, - Binding all trees with my tendrils, - Embracing them, leaping with them, - Woven in and out of them, - One! - - And the wild bee shall love me, - And the wild bee shall follow me - With song! - And I shall be mad fragrance at dusk - And sweet odor at dawn. - And then!--And then - Among all beloved trees which can resist me! - They will yield themselves to me - And I shall swing over the whole world,-- - Every forest of earth, - Every dim place, withdrawn, silent, - Every wilderness,-- - Spanning the sky with a vast arch of rose, - Beating upon the stars with my gold, - Kissing the dawn with my silver, - Resting in my brown upon earth, - My roots in her, my fruit her being! - - _Wind, Wind,_ - _Then will the mad fragrance of my breath be your breath,--_ - _The wild bee clinging!_ - _Wind, Wind,_ - _Then will my hard dry stem know the flight of bird,--_ - _The wild bee following!_ - _Wind, Wind,_ - _Then will my love know the flutter of soft leaf upon me,--_ - _The wild bee singing!_ - - - - - TO SOME FLOWERS - - _Growing Near a Wall of Portland Harbor_ - - - What will you bring today? - Nod once if it be grave, - Nod thrice if it be gay! - - Primrose with eyes for night, - Sweet-peas with wings for flight, - Poppies with cups for dew, - Love in the midst of rue: - Which nods to me? - - No, you turn your faces all one way - Against the wall, - Because a wind from off the sea - Draws its chill fingers down your cups - And bids your petals fall. - - You do not nod, - You beckon neither once nor thrice - To me, but to the earth - There slips a cover manifold - Of every hue. - - And from the wall beside the sea - Curl mist and myriad broken wings. - - Such gift you give to me! - - - - - STARS - - - I - - When joys were vivid I did sit - Within a golden field, - And there I pulled the whitest stars - Green earth can yield. - - - II - - For Bethlehem those stars were named, - The Lord Christ sat with me; - And I was little and I leaned - Upon His knee. - - - III - - Now I am old and joys are gone, - Christ in this room I find - Who brings from distant Bethlehem - Stars for His blind. - - - - - GREEN GOLDEN DOOR - - - Green golden door, swing in, swing in! - Fanning the life a man must live, - Echoes and airs and minstrelsies, - Love and hope that he calleth his, - Fear and hurt and a man’s own sin - Casting them forth and sucking them in, - Green golden door, swing out, swing out! - - Green golden door, swing in, swing in! - Show me the youth that will not die, - Tell me the dream that has not waked, - Seek me the heart that never ached, - Speak me the truth men will not doubt! - Green golden door, swing out, swing out! - - Green golden door, swing in, swing out! - Long is the wailing of man’s breath, - Short is the wail of death. - - - - - BREAD - - - I - - Dear and Unknown, - So you shower white porcelain with roses for me, - Red roses, white roses, roses of rose, - Clipping their stems, - Spreading them out in the bowl - Till the green leaves net the white water with silver, - Glisten with light, - Stir with the stir of their pattern of leaves, - With the breath of their draught of cool water, - With the bloom of rose petals crisp in the peace of white water, - Safe in the shadow of night, - Tasting the gift of new life. - - - II - - Once beauty was bread unto me. - But now I am gone, rob none for my bread. - God gave me a soul no rose, red or white, ever equalled. - Did God give me love? - What doubling of petals has ever brought grief? - What leaf? - In what garden is life crushed always to dreams? - Oh, now, what are roses to me, - Red roses, white roses and roses of rose? - Does God give the roses a soul for their flight? - What petals blow on this journey I go? - - - III - - Dear, my Unknown, - Put no rose to my lips cold in this porcelain bowl of myself! - Roses, red roses, white roses, roses of rose, - Once bread unto me; - Rain them on pulses that beat, - Toss them to hands which are quick to their bloom; - Give them, I beg you, to one who can see; - Feed them, I pray you,-- - Roses, red roses, white roses, roses of rose,-- - To men who still hunger for bread! - - - - - OBSCURITY - - - I - - Someday I shall be a leaf - A shining green leaf, fan-folded, - One of many opening in a sunlit wind; - Or I shall be a bit of bark, - Say on the Poverty Birch-- - Since I am obscure and poor and short of life - And my work of no account to commerce--, - And I shall flutter there in the wind, - My bit of sooty white rind speckled red and gold like trout skin - And cross-hatched with lines of color; - Or--but I do not know what I shall be - And it does not matter. - God has made so much that alters beautiful: - The jigging shadows of trees - Through which thoughts pass to that which does not change; - The wind that tramps eternity; - The very lava of this universe He turns to frost; - Like frost He throws white fingers up out of loam - And tosses into space the spinning stars. - - - II - - I wonder whether ragged autumn leaves feel ill clad - Remembering their soft dress in spring? - Or whether autumn browns seem dreary to the leaves and grass? - And growing older makes cedars shabby at the stem? - I hear the hard, dry clatter of some dead oak leaves,-- - They sound so strong for any wind. - But sometimes when I am tired my dress makes me ashamed - And I am awkward and ill at ease-- - Clothes have a way of telling stories - Even as the bark of trees will tell - Which way the storm winds blow-- - I remember when I was young - And scarcely knew that money paid for clothes, - My garments were fresh and silken like poplar leaves - And there were more than I needed; - And my hair was soft and thick, - With gold always in it as in the larch in early spring; - And my body was lithe and vigorous; - When I was tired it was the quick dip of the sapling in the storm, - The least clearing wind set me free again - And I stood straight with all my quivering aspen leaves - Shaking the sunlight into dance. - - - III - - Now I lie awake at night, many nights, - Sometimes when I am ill, - Sometimes when I am well, - And think about money and rents in worn clothes - And feel the hunger of old women and backyard cats - As if it were my own hunger; - And the wind noses about for crumbs in a bit of newspaper - And flaps tattered dirty shawls over me, - And my thoughts are bent and old - And I shiver in the dark trying to bless God. - I wonder why God gives Himself to trees - And lets old women starve? - And backyard cats nose for crumbs in a piece of newspaper? - And why certain rich people are as well varnished against cold - As fat beech buds against the frost? - Do you suppose God is a Merchant - And sells this warm lustre from the stars-- - Stars hung like bright drops of water in a big night wind-- - And plans to make a profit from the rich?... - I am not an anarchist - Except in stars. - - - IV - - _When the dawn comes it brings the crows._ - _Caw! Caw! Caw! The crows!_ - _The crow sleeps east but west he blows_ - _To pick some carrion that he knows_ - _Caw! Caw! Caw! It blows!_ - - - V - - I travel East to meet the sun - With a gray heron battling up against the wind, - Above the nests that knew the ravens in their sleep, - Above the trees that toss the light, - Above the rocks that blossom into rose, - On towards the sun! - It does not matter now how I am clothed; - For my mind glitters with a thousand thoughts, - Star-sown, moon-shaped, sun-colored, - Amber-shining like polished foliage in a great dawn wind, - And the lustre on the heron’s breast - Is now God and now the Morning Star: - I travel East to meet the sun! - - - - - BROWN MOTHER - - - Brown Mother, Earth Mother, my love does it stir, is it living? - Is this seed-time in darkness? It is bleak, and the rain - Drums hard on this silence, makes heavy my pain. - I am blind yet the wind does search me like eyes that are old. - O, my Mother, sweet Mother, through the lengthening night it is cold! - - Brown Mother, Earth Mother, the swell of your bosom, the - scent of your hair, - They are life, they are death, two in one to your child, - Like the flame of your blossom, the sweep of your wild, - Or the primal red mud of life’s sowing. - - Earth Mother, brown Mother, dear Mother, will the long night be run?... - Touch the root to its milk, do you say? Send the sap to the bud, - Feel the five-fingered leaf on my bosom, the grass on my lip? - Find my bed in the wild? Bear the rose and the lily for child?... - - O, my Mother, Earth Mother, reach me round with your loving, - Fold me in to your heart, base me deep on your breast for this sleep! - - Then, Mother, sweet Mother, with the clay and the spring I shall wake, - Turn my back to the East with its frost and its manacled trees, - Turn my face to the West and the blaze of my lover the Sun! - - - - - SEA GULLS - - _On Leaving Eggemoggin_ - - - Sea gulls I saw lifting the dawn with rosy feet, - Bearing the sunlight on their wings, - Dripping the dusk from burnished plumes; - And I thought - It would be joy to be a sea gull - At dusk, at dawn of day, - And through long sunlit hours. - - Sea gulls I saw carrying the night upon their backs, - Wide tail spread crescent for the moon and stars-- - The moon a glowing jelly fish, - The stars foam flecks of light; - And I thought - It would be joy to be a sea gull! - - How I would dart with them, - Strike storm with coral spur, - Rip whirling spray of angry tides, - Snatch mangled, light-shot offal of the sea,-- - Torn, tossed and moving terribly; - And stare for stare answer those myriad eyes - That float and sway, stab, sting and die away! - - How I would peer from wide cold eyes of fire - At dusk, at dawn - And through the long daylight - Into those coiling depths of sea; - Then split the sun, the moon, the stars, - With laughter, laughter, laughter, - For the sea’s mad power! - - - - - DRAGON - - - _Some saw a dragon eating up the light,_ - _Oho! Oho! Oho, ho, ho!_ - _Some heard a lost bird riding out the night,_ - _Oho! Oho! Oho, ho, ho!_ - - _But I saw_: - A low dark hill with its twisted back, - Two wings of flame from the green cloud rack, - A sprawling flank overlaid with leaf - Glitter and gleam and shine like steel, - Crackle and lash like a serpent’s tail! - - _And I heard_: - The wind draw out of the west and wail, - Dance and stagger and jig and reel - With the long low sound of a life in grief! - - _I saw a life in grief_ - _Oho! Oho! Oho, ho, ho!_ - _Dance and stagger and jig and reel!_ - _Oho! Oho! Oho, ho, ho!_ - - - - - THE WANDERER - - - Hear the illimitable wind - Rush from a desolate sea of space - Into the valley’s folded gloom, - And smite the branches gibbeted - On frosty trees, and lash the woods - To moans of age-old agony! - - Hark! how it leaps upon the roofs - Of cottages, to drop whimpering - Like some old dog before the door of home; - Or pipes through chink and sill, a witless thing. - - It is the only houseless one, - A pensioner of sea and cloud, - An outcast in a universe - Of night and day, of life and death, - An alien, frenzied wanderer,-- - Homeless, illimitable wind! - - - - - BLIND SLEEP - - - In dreams have come to stay - Earth’s golden bonnet of the day, - Her gay attire, - The dove wings gray she wore at dawn, - The ivory of her cradled breast, - Her dusk of plumèd fire, - And all her garments of delight. - - Heavily I grope - Step after step, - Afar, - About this star-illumined sod, - Silver with all the slumber of the world, - Jewelled with every gem of light, - Splintered with frosty air,-- - And know blind sleep. - - - - - THE BOWL - - - God said, “For you this bowl is life! - Draw near and look! - Therein is the bright water of dawn, - Night’s silver covering of rain! - Therein is dream lying like day,-- - Topaz with sun upon it! - Lithe out of this bowl - Shall leap the larch in spring, - For this is love,-- - Green flame of flight to the very tip!” - - I looked into the bowl, wondering: - And night and dawn mingled - And sleep stirred - And the day turned in its dream, - And flame, flickering, swept the bowl’s lip. - Then I took the bowl in my two hands, - Thanking God. - - But now in my bowl dawn breaks no more, - Over the bowl’s lip I hear the iron shudder of dry leaves - Beaten by frozen wind. - There is no rain to soften sleep, - No day like topaz in the sun, - I see the larch crumble to ash,-- - My arms grow numb back to the very heart - Holding this bowl God gave to me! - - - - - THE GREAT SILENCE - - - I - - Magnificent, my Own, - Across the City’s crash of sound, - Above the marching of her war-shod feet, - I hear you call, “I am alone,--alone!” - In that full, tragic voice of yours repeat, - Echo and tone, - “Alone,--I am alone!” - - - II - - Oh, Splendid One, - The stars still hang the City’s night - With peace and light! - What wars could ever bind - The signing of God’s universe in space? - You turn your eyes, - Burning, ancient, wise, - And speak, “All have I seen, - Evil and good, - All man has been, - All man has done,-- - And I am blind.” - But God, I cried ... - Then came your moan, - Like Pontius Pilate overthrown, - “God I have denied!” - - - III - - Magnificent, my Own, - There beyond the City’s sky - Are pinnacle and dream, - The rushing of a mighty stream, - The night-wind’s cry - And thunder-harp of pine. - “Oh, Christ,” you weep, - “They are not mine, - They are not mine! - I cannot see, I cannot hear, - Only I remember year on year - Abel and Cain. - Yet somewhere in this welter of my pain - I keep - Memory of another,-- - those two lost syllables of doom.” - “What syllables are they, my Own?” - “That word is ‘Brother’!” - - - - - WHITE HAIR - - - All the warmth has gone out of white hair, - It only answers to the wind - And lifts and stirs like creeping snow - Close to the frozen scalp of earth. - It has no gold of autumn grasses - Or red of beech buds - Or warm brown of tree bark - Or depths of quiet - In which eyes burn like star-flame in a dark night. - - Has death white hair - And the cramped empty shoulders of old age? - If he has, I shall be as a child, frightened and trying to hide from him. - But if his touch is the touch of warm rain, - If his breath is sweet like the gray-green fruit of the juniper, - If his shoulder is deep and strong like the up-heaved root of hemlock - And his hair velvet-dusk as a moth’s wing, - Then I shall go to him gladly, - And sleep well.... - - - - - CLEAR POOLS - - - What is this bitterness of love that scatters dust in the eyes? - What this absence that shrivels the heart and the blood? - What these cries that stop the ears with their pain? - Let us take our love unto God, - He understands, He has fashioned us and is kind; - How well He knows that love must carry its burden - If it would run to bathe in clear pools and lift its eyes to the stars! - - What are we that we should not know that we are His, - And of Him our passion and of Him our tears? - His breast is deep and He will fold us there - In the mystery of His dark, in the miracle of His closeness. - Distance from us knows He not nor space, - And our love which is His how can it be divided from itself? - Are we not one even as we are His? - - What is that cry? - Is it sorrow or is it the wind upon the waters? - What is this light that flows like a brook? - How well He knows that love must carry its burden, - If it would run to bathe in clear pools and lift its eyes to the stars! - - - - - THESE TWO - - - Sometimes when I am alone at night - I put my hand upon my heart; - But it matters little to me that these two are one - From the deep inflow of the rushing blood - Even to the extremity of each living finger - Swung from hollowed palm and flexible wrist:-- - This heart and hand that are so wonderful, - So joined in life; so fashioned - In the beat of pulse - And passionate discernment of touch for joy, - So separate and yet not to be divided. - - It is not of them I am thinking - When I place my hand on my heart - In the lonely night. - In its weight - Again I feel your head lying on my breast - And in its touch the oval of your childlike face. - You are wide-eyed once more, - With those gray eyes of the sea - Full of space and the shadows of birds’ wings - And the terror of known depths of human tragedy; - You are wide-eyed now - Looking into the dark with me, - Wondering about the night. - - I cannot believe that it is only my own hand upon my heart - And that we are separated; - I cannot understand the use of my own fingers - Or the beating of my own pulse; - And I take my hand away - And lie alone in the dark - And suffer. - - - - - THE RAILROAD STATION - - - A station is a place of miracle: - So many trains passing and repassing, - So many thoughts coming and going, - So many greetings and farewells! - Any surprise might happen there: - God come and go, - Street cries turn to stars, - Dust of blown rubbish whirl to aureole! - Thus, in such a place, - Love met me once. - That day the shining tracks seemed leaping toward eternity, - And we heard the street cries sing like stars, - And we saw God come and go - And the dust upon our hair was gold! - Now, blinded, I look past all I see: - It might happen, - Love might be there again! - It’s not that I think a railroad station heaven. - Who does! - Yet so many greetings and farewells,-- - Anything might happen! - Have you not felt that way, - And, bewildered, watched; - And, longing, waited? - - - - - BUBBLES - - - How shall I link my thought to yours - Through hours that whirl to dust! - Fling me some word will keep me close to you, - If but a rainbow bubble like our breath, - And share with me its swift-revolving dream! - - See how the bubble shapes the silver moon, the golden sun! - In purple sleep it spins among the stars, - Or crimson film it holds the dawn, - Only to break in shattered mist upon our lips,-- - One azure word turned kiss! - - - - - PEDDLED JOY - - - “May I not sell this gewgaw red?” - “You must not sell! - You cannot buy!” - “Not sell my own, my heart?” - “You two are one: you may not part,-- - One peddled joy, you both are dead!” - - “Must I go hungry all the way?” - “You must not beg! - You must not cry!” - “Not for two bits o’love today?” - “Your empty scrip for pillow keep: - It brings great gifts,--thirst, sorrow, sleep!” - - - - - WORK - - - I told my heart that work must be - The only aim of life for me. - But oh! my heart cried, “Love, love, love!” - And wept bitterly. - - - - - SOMEWHERE TONIGHT - - _On hearing the Evening Bells at Westport-on-Lake Champlain_ - - - I - - Somewhere I have heard bells - Mellow as the moon: - Somewhere they hung and swung, - With slender sound they rose - Tiptoe with hunger for the sky, - Star-pointed with the light of dream; - Somewhere those eager bells whispered of love,-- - That was another day, - And we were gay! - - - II - - And now this withered sound’s farewell - Swinging like tethered rhyme, - Slow-moving, pendulous, - A sigh upon the water’s breast, - A cloud within the sky! - Never again for us, Belovèd, - Yet somewhere the moon shines and is bright,-- - Somewhere tonight! - - - - - YOUR SUNLIT WAY - - - I - - Should one thought cry against me in your heart, - I could not rise from Death, saying, “Love, my place - Is by your living side; ghostly, I touch - Your precious hands, I kiss your lovely face!” - - - II - - I would not have you shrink to feel me near, - Or claim despite your will what once was mine, - Was ours in God-flung vow, passionate, dear - By night, by day, companioned or apart. - - - III - - Not mine to snare your liberty, to cage - Your sunlit way. Yet, wish me gone, I leap - From light, I plunge to find amen and shroud - In Death,--this time for Love’s eternal sleep. - - - - - STRANGE FACES - - - There! - That is the face for me-- - That face I shall never see - In this world again! - All that I miss is there, - Touch of life and its kiss! - O, mysterious love in our heart - Found for us both as we pass,-- - As we part! - - - - - EVERYWHERE - - - You I love, - You and you: - One I never see - And one I know. - - Well, and what then? - Nothing. - But, I ask, - Does the wind blow? - Do feet drift or go? - And where? - How shall a tinker mend - A pinch of dust? - - Some things are mine to keep, - Some to share: - My thoughts I bear - Because I must; - My love I spend - Because I wish, - On you I never see, - On you I know,-- - Everywhere. - - - - - CLOUD - - - A slate galleon hurrying across a sea of fire,-- - And they call _that_ “cloud”! - And the sea it sails upon “sky”! - Tut, it is a ship as plain as anything - Full-spread to find the silver edges of the world - Where ships and island daffodils - Burn, follow sun, dip, - Cling to the shining brim like flapping butterflies, - Let go, - Then, whirling sail and streaming daffodil, - Dart into night and flame to stars! - And the “sky” ... - Now you tell what the sky is! - - - - - BUCENTAUR - - _At Isle au Haut_ - - - Dawn, bright dawn, - White swan on the edge of the dark pool of night - Fan the shade from its mirror, - Cleave the stars on its deep! - - Joyous barge of my dream, - On the wave, on the wind, O Bucentaur, - With your cry sweep the seas, - Shake the wind from the trees, - Wake the world from its sleep, - Meet and greet - Song within song! - - Your eyes jewelled fire, - Your touch my desire, - Draw nearer, draw nearer - Down the rose-colored stream; - White swan, bright dawn, - Kiss me, and lift me - On the wing of your light! - - - - - MOTH - - _At Isle au Haut_ - - - Gray as a moth the light of day - Dawns in the east, - Dimming the star that crowns the hill, - Stilling the wind, - Hushing the deep - Of the water’s sleep; - - Flits like a moth’s pearl wing in the night - To the peak of mast - And the spire of tree, - Touches the nest and its thrush to song, - Flutters the edge of the sky along. - - Gray like a moth - Dawn slips away, - Bright in apocalypse of light. - Rose and gold and green of the world, - Wind and bird and the great sea’s lay - Possess the day! - - - - - GRAY WATERS - - _At Isle au Haut_ - - - Take me to some isle upon the sea! - Bear me on wing of bird or keel of ship - Out where gray waters slip - About some isle upon the sea,-- - Upon the sea! - - Lay me within some caverned rock - Whose bosom, hard from all the years, - Knows nothing of men’s tears,-- - Gray peaceful rest beside the sea, - Beside the sea! - - Take me to some isle upon the sea! - Bear me on wing of bird or keel of ship - Out where gray waters slip - About some isle upon the sea! - Upon the sea! - - - - - JOURNEY’S END - - - I shall not hear the thrushes sing, - Though sing they will that day; - For me will be an unknown sod - And an undreamed-of May! - - - - - WHITE PATHS - - - Here are white paths that gleam - In the twilight space of dream; - Here the winds turn in their sleep - With the rocking of the deep; - Here the golden song of thrush - Is music’s sunlight, evening’s hush; - Here the rustle of our prayer - Climbs the forest altar stair; - And here the stars burn in the sod-- - Peaceful candlelight for God. - - - - - EBONY - - _On watching a beautiful black arm opening a - Venetian Lantern at Fleur de Lys_ - - - Ebony, Ebony, - Dreaming of a rose, - Flame in the flower-heart, - Dusk in repose; - - Jeweled eyes glistening, - Dew on the leaf, - Sweet to Africa - Is the thought of her grief. - - - - - TO SOME PHILADELPHIA SPARROWS - - - Men say unfriendly words of you, poor birds! - And I? I praise you for your saucy joy - On dusty streets; I love you for your twitter - In vines that cling to heated city walls; - Your noisy congregations on the trees; - Unchurchly ways of saying this and that - About your brother men; your gaieties - In parks nearby a fountain’s dripping brim. - - Men say your manners are not fine. And, too, - They call you scavengers, they call you thief - And enemy to other prettier birds. - Perhaps we are one feather, you and I! - I would not hold it any grief to be - Your brother bird upon the city street. - - I love you, chatterers! Yet I have heard - The lark in other lands, the thrush in this. - Dull many a day had been without your din, - Your wrangles under foot, your shameless ways. - - Men say unfriendly words of you. Of me - They speak unkindly, too. Yet see how gay - We are! Ah, well, we are one feather, you - And I! We have the city streets for plunder, - The eaves for wonder, and above there is - The sky! - - - - - ORIOLE’S NEST - - AT FLEUR DE LYS - - - Night in an oriole’s hanging nest - Is rocking a basket world to sleep. - The wind blows soft - And the wind blows far, - Star, creep, star! - - Pack me tight in my basket world, - Tread me and turn me with feet of your love! - O, Mother Bird, fledge me with feather and rest! - O, Mother Bird, brood me with flame of your breast! - Down in the marshes the little fish gleam, - Down in the marshes the little fish stir - Rushes in sleep, - Rushes that keep - Wrinkling the light of a drowsy star. - - Here in my basket world hung on the wind - Over me rustles an ebony bough, - Over me hovers a silvery beak; - And clear and soft - And near and far - Lustre of loving eyes rocked in this nest, - Eyes that are gentle, - Eyes that are meek. - O, Mother Bird, fledge me with feather and rest! - O, Mother Bird, brood me with flame of your breast! - - - - - LITTLE MISS HILLY - - - Oh, little Miss Hilly of Northampton-town - Goes walking the valleys and meadows adown; - She looks in the brooks for the stars and the moon - And she sings an old chanty a bit out of tune. - Oh, little Miss Hilly is dear unto me,-- - Is dear unto me! - - Her arms are so eager but tiny are they, - And her fingers are agile as waters at play. - Yet little Miss Hilly must climb a steep slope, - Must go without laughter and live without hope: - Must chatter and patter like leaves and like rain, - Must shiver and quiver and ache with the pain - Of climbing for stars and wanting the moon - As she puts an old chanty once more into tune, - Ere the stars will come down or the moon will reply - Except by a wink through a chink in the sky - Oh, little Miss Hilly so dear unto me, - So dear unto me! - - - - - ROSE TOADA - - _A Sleep Song_ - - - I - - Shoo, Rose Toada, Shoo! - Jewelled red eyes for you. - Shoo, Rose Toada, Shoo! - - - II - - Hoosh, Rose Toada, hoosh! - Little green snake in the bush. - Hoosh, Rose Toada, hoosh! - - - III - - Bizz, Rose Toada, buzz! - Gold on its wings and fuzz. - Bizz, Rose Toada, buzz! - - - - - THATCH - - - Oh Boy, give me your yellow thatch for home, - Your yellow thatch of hair, - Straw with the wind and air! - - Oh Boy, give me your stubble cheek to roam, - Brown hayfield in the dew,-- - Rusty with sun and you! - - - - - SUN-PATH - - - I - - How should I touch your years with mine, - Yours flushed with dawn, a flight - For all ecstacy of light, of rose, of flame, - Mine shadowed even now by night! - Yet, child, blown by the dawn-wind of your name, - Tossed by the sunlight in your eyes, - Sped by the glow upon your lips, you came, - Seeking my shadow and my rest. - - - II - - Tell me what made you run to me? - Was it the long, unsheltered way from dawn to dusk, - The hot, unclouded, copper day of truth, - Was it some legend of men’s tears and strife, - Some tale of cowards prospering in the sun, - Some sin red-flung across the lilies that men love? - Or terror which the old forget, fears - Following as you fled, some shame - Of fact too awful for your youth to bear? - - - III - - Back to your sun-path now you run - And on with wing of bird and flight of sun. - Your youth upon its golden way - Forgets it ever asked for rest, - Forgets my desolated day. - To me you left your tears, - Your fears a-tremble, - And hunger in mine eyes for you. - And I? I leave you free. - - - - - RAVELLO - - _A Recollection of the Garden in which Wagner composed “Parzival”_ - - - Words glimmering like candles in the dusk - You tell your golden tale of Italy,-- - Ravello and its starlit, tranquil sea - Among massed trees sleep-hung with jewelled fruit; - Antiquity against a shadowed sky, - And everywhere old gardens where men loved - So long ago, and the moon rose on vows - And thirsty human lips aching to meet; - And the moon set on darkling ivory-petalled rows - Of lilies and on hands dim with loneliness:-- - Below, Amalfi’s campanile plays - Its even-song, full chant and antiphon, - A wish, a hope, a call from star to star. - - O, Compassionate One, night-long with you I hark - The travelling of that music lost in space, - The echoing of those faithful feet of men, - And touch the blurred chalcedony of tears, - And breathe those candle-lighted thoughts, faint musk - Of old days vanished in silence now! - Night-long I dream your face pressed close to mine - Is lily of Ravello in its sleep, - Touched with some ancient sorrow gardens keep,-- - An ivory-petalled dream whose ghostly passions shine - Like fingers in the dark struggling with fears:-- - O, set your love for me, my Own, my Sweet, - The whiteness of your breast and brow aglow - With God, like candleshine before my feet! - - - - - CHESTER-ON-THE DEE - - - Sleep, little town, your moonlit walls - Are hushed with long-ago! - Night, like your river, brings to you - Forgetfulness of woe. - - Peace, little town! Grave sleep is this - That aches in love and tears, - With singing stream, with shining dream, - With sense of other years. - - - - - THE RIVER SEIONT - - _At Carnarvon in North Wales_ - - - Where the salt sea winds her sleeping path - Up the River Seiont in summer time, - And daisies flush the aftermath - Of stubble corn; and heavy cows - Wait by the water’s edge, - While cloud-capped Snowdon hills grow dim, - And fading Anglesey a crystal rim,-- - Then - Your spirit comes, - A tidal sea, - Winding, - Up the River Seiont, - Past the purple hill; - Winding, - Past the Castle wall, - Winding;-- - Then - Your spirit comes, - Winding, - Up the River Seiont - To me. - - - - - GOLD AND IVORY - - - They lie beside me all the night, - They crowd up close to me; - And when I turn, they turn; - And when I sigh, they cry. - Says one: “I am the love you sought - Now wrinkled to an afterthought.” - The other whispers in my ear: - “You coveted: - Behold, I lie here dead!” - These are the gifts sleep brings to me,-- - My dreams of gold and ivory! - - - - - STEPS - - - I - - There is a stair to climb - That--Christ you keep!-- - Men stumble there - It is so steep. - - - II - - Its steps give scarce foothold, - Yet, pilgrim-shod, - Hungry, athirst, - Men climb to God. - - - - - BESIDE THE WAY - - - I - - O, little wind of every day, - O, little wind of hope, - Bring to me love - Beside the way, - O, little wind of every day! - - - II - - There’s vexing work for scanty keep, - With tears for daily drink, - And but this cup - To bring me sleep, - This cup of golden love dream-deep. - - - III - - O, little wind of every day, - O, little wind of hope, - Bring to me love - Beside the way, - O, little wind of every day! - - - - - WAIT AWHILE - - - I - - If you would know my mother-heart, - Then wait awhile, be still; - Watch for the settling dusky light, - The silence, on the hill; - And wait awhile, be still. - - - II - - Love, heed the clap of little hands, - Of leaves upon my trees; - And hear the travelling of the wind, - The moving of the seas; - Then wait awhile, be still. - - - III - - If you would know my mother-heart, - But watch the wasting day! - The wind steps softly in the corn, - The light slips to the hill; - Love, wait awhile, be still. - - - - - INDIAN SUMMER - - - Blossoms shaken from their star forms - Back to earth, - Flying seedlings warm and waiting - Drift in sunlight with the going - Of the birds towards the south! - - Birds are going! - They will sing before they go, - Fill the orchard with their mirth: - Song of harvest, song of summer, song of springtime,-- - They remember it was April long ago! - - We are parting, - You are going towards the south! - Love was birth. - Is this dying,-- - Death my harvest, grief my summer, tears my springtime?... - Well, kiss me kindly, - Song is warmest on the mouth! - Give me love before you go! - - - - - A THOUSAND YEARS - - - A thousand years from now - No one will know that you and I - Lifted our arms to touch the sky - And clasped an empty vow,-- - No one will know, - We loved so long ago! - - A thousand years from now - We shall not hear the cry of hope - Linger, remember, echo, grope, - While mornings glow - And evenings come and go! - - A thousand years from now - No one will know that we have slept - Breast to each other’s breast and wept,-- - No one will know - We loved so long ago! - - A thousand years from now - We shall not see love welcome death, - Dreams harden into frosted breath, - Spring burn the apple bough - While mornings glow - And evenings come and go! - - - - - THE BROKEN DOOR - - - This is the place! I know - The broken door, the ragged bed of bloom - Where poppies grow, - Row after row. - - This is the place. - A year ago, her footprint - Marked the garden path - With tender hollow. - - But now? - Time’s step is slow to follow. - - - - - ONLY YOUR NAME - - - Sometimes I wake from sleep - Only your name drawing across my lips - In creeping wind from unlit space, - No star sparks flickering on that wind, - No signal tree top touched with racing light, - No lantern-memory hung to show the way; - Only a pathless name, - Dark, terrible, meaningless because most near! - And yet I never knew you,-- - Only your name and pain! - - - - - REPETENDS - - - In the still woods I find your eyes, - I hear your voice once more - And the far-singing hermit thrush - Beyond our northern door. - - In the still woods pale repetends - I find of death and grief - In fallen nest and perished bee - And sepulchre of leaf. - - - - - TOO LATE - - - It is too long, too long! - My heart grows old with grieving - For the touch of you. - - It is too far, too far! - My eyes are dazed - With searching emptiness,-- - The dark, the blurred horizon - With its dust of other feet. - - It is too late, too late! - Gray thoughts stalk round me - With their death. - I strike my tent, - I go. - Not even dreams can bring you now,-- - Too long, too far, too late! - - - - - THE TIDE - - - I shall find you when the tide comes in,-- - A shell, a sound, a flash of light - To live with me by day, - To dream with me by night. - - You come and go - As waters flow; - You lap me round - You pour me full; - A shell at rest - You touch my breast. - I feel your will, - And I am bound - By light, by sound; - To love you still. - - I shall find you when the tide comes in,-- - A shell, a sound, a flash of light. - Men say you died. - They knew not what to say,-- - I hear the tide, - I hear the tide! - - - - - DUST AND DREAMS - - - At peace with every sweet remembered thing - You lie; with woodland song that died long years - Ago; with pebbles washed ashore and fears - Released and feathers broken from the wing - That beat its westward flight towards the sun - And some far nest beside some unknown sea: - I would not answer when you called to me, - And now my thought of you is never done. - - This starlit road with its dark towering pines, - Its dust of misty pollen blown in cloud - From field to field, its silences, its shroud - Of clinging dark and all its trailing vines - White with moonshine and the priestly dew, - We shared. Tonight I travel it alone,-- - Alone I go towards that glistening stone - Which marks your rest, my thought a prayer for you. - - Singing the water rushes past your quiet grave - Beneath this little town whose ancient name - Suggests the fair collegiate dream and fame - Of Oxford and her clustered towers. With wave - The river winds a garland for your rest-- - The woven sound of grieving without end. - To you I bring the memory of a friend - And lay these words on your remembered breast. - - - - - THE NEST - - - I - - Oh, is there room at your feet, dear one? - And is there room at your side? - And can you hear the sound of my breath - And sorrow that cries like a tide? - - - II - - Oh, may I take your hand, dear one, - As the nest enfolds the bird, - Lie close to your heart and breast to breast - And never a spoken word? - - - III - - What then if the stars be gone, dear one, - What then if the wind be still, - And words that we spoke long years ago - Drift pale and faint and chill? - - - IV - - Our dust shall be warmed by the sun, dear one, - Our grief shall fade with the snow; - And mingled in spring by sun and rain - Our love to a flower blow. - - - V - - Oh, is there room at your feet, dear one? - And is there room at your side? - And can you hear the sound of my breath - And sorrow that cries like a tide? - - - - - LOST LOVE - - - You have her mouth of grief,-- - Your parted lips half-shape a moan; - You have her brow branded with memory; - You have her downcast eyes - Brooding like doves above the body’s need; - You have her heart of love - Where music flows - And sorrows nurse. - - O Voice of all lost love and agony, - Cecilia, Saint, - We beg the healing of your breast, - Music at our lips - And sleep! - - - - - “WHEN SPRING” - - A BALLAD OF LOVE - - - I - - When spring was in her heart beat, - Her lover came from sea; - She gave him passion’s lily cup, - He gave her thistles three. - - - II - - When spring was in her heart beat, - He filled their lily cup - With bitter dew and star dust - And frozen spray to sup. - - - III - - When spring was in her heart beat, - He snared the only star - Still racing on her dream path: - Now other thistles are! - - - IV - - He said a little tinsel - Would serve her last journee, - And nailed a glittering handful - Upon a willow tree. - - - V - - Now death drags at her heart beat - She sees gray branches weep; - They drip but ashen starlight, - Singing, “Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!” - - - - - TWO CANDLES - - TO MY MOTHER AT FLEUR DE LYS - - - I - - Two candles place I at her feet, - Two candles at her head; - These are the gifts that I would bring - To my Belovèd Dead. - - - II - - I sought the violet of her eyes, - Her eyes were closed in sleep; - My love was trembling like a child - And could not even weep. - - - III - - I clad her in a purple shroud, - Some said it should be white; - I said, “The passion of her eyes - Found peace in candlelight!” - - - IV - - Sometimes I see her ash-gold hair - Shimmer within the night; - Sometimes I feel her violet eyes - Searching for candlelight. - - - V - - Sometimes I hear her drifting feet - That seek from door to door, - Guided by star and blowing wind, - Dream-shod forevermore. - - - VI - - When will she come again to me - Led by the wind and star? - She need not even call my name, - I could not wander far. - - - VII - - Two candles place I at her feet, - Two candles at her head: - Remembrance and Oblivion - Enfold my lonely dead. - - - - - ROSY MILLER - - - I do not ever remember having seen Rosy Miller; - I never met her; - Yet lose her I never can. - One night at dusk she came down a hill with me, - And the stars glowed - And all the college buildings were laced with window lights, - And beyond them were the dark hills. - - It was the speech of a friend that made her live for me-- - She was living then--, - Rosy Miller, who gave and gave, - Who, a child still, had learned the whole meaning of life, - Who asked nothing, - Who never held a hand out mendicant to others. - - That was three years ago, that hour at dusk, - And now they say she is dead. - But that is a mistake: - Even for me who never knew her she still lives. - - - - - HIS NAME - - - He loved men with a great soul’s deepest love; - He saw in them truth, hope, the very flame - Of constancy. And then alone - He died. Men have forgot his name. - - - - - MIST - - - I - - I climb them step by step,-- - The vanished years. - Stumbling I pause to look below, - Down wells of time, so black, so deep - Their waters keep - No sound, - Nor show a star, - Nor hold a memory. - - - II - - Sometimes I kneel and look above - That dark stairway - At years to come; - My fingers clasp my fears, - Where my hopes go. - Up there, beyond that last, gray step, - Afar, - Within that roof of mist, - What is that shape in flight - Dim, strong and slow? - - - III - - “A wing,” some say; - Some answer, “Love”; - And some say, “Night - And Sleep.” - But I? - I do not know. - - - - - LAST DAWN - - - When that last dawn comes, what will it be?-- - A plume of fire on a cloud of gray; - A shrouded ship in a cocoon sea; - A mountain peak with its one gold star; - A bird’s nest swung by a silver wind; - Or the curve of an arm with its cradled child? - What will that last dawn be? - - And God, what will God be? - The plume of fire or the mist-spun ship, - The mountain peak with its signal star, - The nest blown wide for the coming day, - Or the child in the human passionate arms?... - I wonder what God will be - And who shall see! - - - - - EVEN AS HERE - - - This is the end to which I come,-- - I who have loved beauty all my days: - This grief of tortured flowers, - This prison box devised by men, - These nails and hasps and graven plates, - This narrow room, these curious eyes, - This tolling bell, - These mumbled words miscalled of God, - This brutal stone! - - O, rather, Love, - Lay me on sweet-burning cedar, - Free, fragrant with beaded pitch where the clean axe cut, - With flame that leaps from singing heart of wood to mine! - Then cast me as ash upon the quilted colors of the autumn hills, - And I shall be pale lace of wind - To kiss your lips, your eyes once more! - - Or strew me on water - Till I know again its slipping hands of dream, - And see its golden deep of sand shadowed with memories, - And feel its cradling touch soft as your moving breast - In closeness beyond the reach of words! - - Or toss me as a feather - To some little shepherd moon and flock of stars - Where, in the slow-rolling of prodigious hours - Round the blown crust of other worlds, - Space beyond space, - I shall find you,--even as here! - - - - - AGAIN? - - _To my Home on Lake Champlain_ - - - Shall I come again? - Again to see the reeds, - Yellowing now? - - _“Bye and bye!_ - _Bye and bye!”_ - _Lake rushes cry._ - - Shall I come again - To these willow leaves - Falling now? - - _Their joy was brief!_ - _The willow leaf_ - _Knows grief._ - - Shall I breathe again - Gray balsam dripping amber - On the mould? - - _What knows the year_ - _Of any fear,--_ - _Of any amber tear!_ - - _September 27, 1920._ - - - - - - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Willow Pollen, by Jeannette Augustus Marks - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILLOW POLLEN *** - -***** This file should be named 53099-0.txt or 53099-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/0/9/53099/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Willow Pollen - -Author: Jeannette Augustus Marks - -Release Date: September 20, 2016 [EBook #53099] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILLOW POLLEN *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="[Image -of the book's cover unavailable.]" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a>{1}</span></p> - -<p class="cb">WILLOW POLLEN</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a>{2}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a>{3}</span> </p> - -<h1> -WILLOW POLLEN</h1> -<p class="c">BY<br /> -JEANNETTE MARKS<br /> -<br /> -<img src="images/colophon.png" -width="100" -alt="[Image of the colophon unavailable.]" -/><br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Boston</span><br /> - -<span class="smcap">The Four Seas Company</span><br /> -1921<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a>{4}</span><br /> -<i>Copyright, 1921, by</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">The Four Seas Company</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -The Four Seas Press<br /> -Boston, Mass., U. S. A.<br /> -<br /><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a>{5}</span><br /> - -<br /><br /> -TO<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">The Memory of<br /><br /> -My Mother</span><br /> -<br /> -JEANNETTE HOLMES COLWELL MARKS<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a>{6}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="ACKNOWLEDGMENT" id="ACKNOWLEDGMENT"></a>ACKNOWLEDGMENT</h2> - -<p class="nind">Many of these poems were first published in <i>Ainslee’s</i>, <i>Bellman</i>, -<i>Century</i>, <i>Churchman</i>, <i>Contemporary Verse</i>, <i>Everybody’s</i>, <i>Freeman</i>, -<i>Forum</i>, <i>Holland’s Magazine</i>, <i>McClure’s</i>, <i>Metropolitan</i>, <i>Nation</i>, -<i>New Republic</i>, <i>North American Review</i>, <i>Outlook</i>, <i>Poetry</i> (Chicago), -<i>Poetry Journal</i>, <i>The Bookman</i>, <i>Smart Set</i> and other magazines.</p> - -<p class="nind"> -Fleur de Lys<br /> -September 27, 1920.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a>{7}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>Page</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#PROEM"><span class="smcap">Proem</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_011">11</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#WILLOW_POLLEN"><span class="smcap">Willow Pollen</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_013">13</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#YOU"><span class="smcap">You</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_014">14</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#CROSS_ROADS"><span class="smcap">Cross Roads</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_015">15</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#CALENDAR"><span class="smcap">Calendar</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_016">16</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#WILD_GRAPE_VINE"><span class="smcap">Wild Grape Vine</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_019">19</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#TO_SOME_FLOWERS"><span class="smcap">To Some Flowers</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_021">21</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#STARS"><span class="smcap">Stars</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_022">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#GREEN_GOLDEN_DOOR"><span class="smcap">Green Golden Door</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_023">23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#BREAD"><span class="smcap">Bread</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_024">24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#OBSCURITY"><span class="smcap">Obscurity</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_026">26</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#BROWN_MOTHER"><span class="smcap">Brown Mother</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_030">30</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#SEA_GULLS"><span class="smcap">Sea Gulls</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_032">32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#DRAGON"><span class="smcap">Dragon</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_033">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THE_WANDERER"><span class="smcap">The Wanderer</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_034">34</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#BLIND_SLEEP"><span class="smcap">Blind Sleep</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_035">35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THE_BOWL"><span class="smcap">The Bowl</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_036">36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#WHITE_HAIR"><span class="smcap">White Hair</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_039">39</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#CLEAR_POOLS"><span class="smcap">Clear Pools</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_040">40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THESE_TWO"><span class="smcap">These Two</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_041">41</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THE_RAILROAD_STATION"><span class="smcap">The Railroad Station</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_043">43</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#BUBBLES"><span class="smcap">Bubbles</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_044">44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#PEDDLED_JOY"><span class="smcap">Peddled Joy</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_045">45</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#WORK"><span class="smcap">Work</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_046">46</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#SOMEWHERE_TONIGHT"><span class="smcap">Somewhere Tonight</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_047">47</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#YOUR_SUNLIT_WAY"><span class="smcap">Your Sunlit Way</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_048">48</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#STRANGE_FACES"><span class="smcap">Strange Faces</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_049">49</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#EVERYWHERE"><span class="smcap">Everywhere</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_050">50</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#CLOUD"><span class="smcap">Cloud</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_051">51</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#BUCENTAUR"><span class="smcap">Bucentaur</span></a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a>{8}</span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_052">52</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#MOTH"><span class="smcap">Moth</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_053">53</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#GRAY_WATERS"><span class="smcap">Gray Waters</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_054">54</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#JOURNEYS_END"><span class="smcap">Journey’s End</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_055">55</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#WHITE_PATHS"><span class="smcap">White Paths</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_056">56</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#EBONY"><span class="smcap">Ebony</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_057">57</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#TO_SOME_PHILADELPHIA_SPARROWS"><span class="smcap">To Some Philadelphia Sparrows</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_058">58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ORIOLES_NEST"><span class="smcap">Oriole’s Nest</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_059">59</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#LITTLE_MISS_HILLY"><span class="smcap">Little Miss Hilly</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_060">60</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ROSE_TOADA"><span class="smcap">Rose Toada</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_061">61</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THATCH"><span class="smcap">Thatch</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_062">62</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#SUN-PATH"><span class="smcap">Sun Path</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_063">63</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#RAVELLO"><span class="smcap">Ravello</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_064">64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#CHESTER-ON-THE_DEE"><span class="smcap">Chester-on-the Dee</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_065">65</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THE_RIVER_SEIONT"><span class="smcap">The River Seiont</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_066">66</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#GOLD_AND_IVORY"><span class="smcap">Gold and Ivory</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_067">67</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#STEPS"><span class="smcap">Steps</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_068">68</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#BESIDE_THE_WAY"><span class="smcap">Beside the Way</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_069">69</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#WAIT_AWHILE"><span class="smcap">Wait Awhile</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_070">70</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#INDIAN_SUMMER"><span class="smcap">Indian Summer</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_071">71</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#A_THOUSAND_YEARS"><span class="smcap">A Thousand Years</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_072">72</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THE_BROKEN_DOOR"><span class="smcap">The Broken Door</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_073">73</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ONLY_YOUR_NAME"><span class="smcap">Only Your Name</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_074">74</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#REPETENDS"><span class="smcap">Repetends</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_075">75</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#TOO_LATE"><span class="smcap">Too Late</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_076">76</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THE_TIDE"><span class="smcap">The Tide</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_077">77</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#DUST_AND_DREAMS"><span class="smcap">Dust and Dreams</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_078">78</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#THE_NEST"><span class="smcap">The Nest</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_079">79</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#LOST_LOVE"><span class="smcap">Lost Love</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_080">80</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#WHEN_SPRING"><span class="smcap">“When Spring</span></a>”</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_081">81</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#TWO_CANDLES"><span class="smcap">Two Candles</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_082">82</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#ROSY_MILLER"><span class="smcap">Rosy Miller</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_084">84</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#HIS_NAME"><span class="smcap">His Name</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_085">85</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#MIST"><span class="smcap">Mist</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_086">86</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#LAST_DAWN"><span class="smcap">Last Dawn</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_087">87</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#EVEN_AS_HERE"><span class="smcap">Even as Here</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_088">88</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td valign="top"><a href="#AGAIN"><span class="smcap">Again?</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_090">90</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a>{9}</span></p> - -<h1>WILLOW POLLEN</h1> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a>{10}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a>{11}</span> </p> - -<h2><a name="PROEM" id="PROEM"></a>PROEM</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Beautiful she was to look upon</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And beautiful to know,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And all who knew her loved her.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>There was none to whom she was not tender,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Compassionate in her word or her silence;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>There was none of whom she did not think well.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>In a quiet room, my head upon her breast,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Often have I heard her heart beat,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Often have I listened to the voice of her heart,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And its speech was the speech of many sorrows.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>But of her own sorrows she spoke not;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>She spoke only of the grief that came to her for healing;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And her speech was silence,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Murmur of wind,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Mute spaces of sky,—</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>These were her caresses and her healing,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And with silence and wind and sky she is now one,—</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Not separate.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>She is gone.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Remember her if you will!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For me she is still everywhere</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And never to be forgotten!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Out of the dawn</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The fringed lashes of blue gentians widen to her eyes;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Through the hot day</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The shadow of her presence revolves upon me<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a>{12}</span></i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>As the cool finger on the sun dial;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>In the afternoon</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Shaken light burns in the memory of her hair;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And at evening</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>All my thoughts go fluttering, gray-winged, after her,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Till she gathers them in to the nest of her silence</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And I am come back to my Mother</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And to sleep.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a>{13}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="WILLOW_POLLEN" id="WILLOW_POLLEN"></a>WILLOW POLLEN<br /><br /> -<small><i>Fleur de Lys on Lake Champlain, June 3, 1920</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The rain upon my roof is the rain of apple blossoms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At my feet the water willows stand knee-deep in rushes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A swaying mirror for the sun the lake swings and tips,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spilling broken drowsy shadows and silver leaves.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the willow pollen the bees hum;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the apple bloom the bees hum;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fluttering up like a begging hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ash tree twirls its mystic seven-fold leaf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The thrush its song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O beautiful world, what are you?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And who made you?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are you no more than a fragrant dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A jewelled crust of loam for sun to shine upon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A swaying mirror,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Willow pollen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A twirling song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A crumbling leaf?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a>{14}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="YOU" id="YOU"></a>YOU</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You are the sunshine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am the sod:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flame to my leaf-mould,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And goldenrod.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You are the shadow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am the rock:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Coolness of sheep bells,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stilling the flock.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You are the starlight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am the stream:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trees dripping lustre<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into our dream.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a>{15}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="CROSS_ROADS" id="CROSS_ROADS"></a>CROSS ROADS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder if the wildrose knows I love you,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the festivals of spring your name has lain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now a petal on my bosom, now a leaf against my lip<br /></span> -<span class="i5">In the rain?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder if the wood thrush knows I love you,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every step a song, every song a flight home to you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While the path runs on through twilight and the night wheels back to day<br /></span> -<span class="i5">And I pray?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder if the heavens know I love you,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dusky night-time cupped with stars, lily day immaculate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leading on unto the cross roads where you and I<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Say goodbye?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a>{16}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="CALENDAR" id="CALENDAR"></a>CALENDAR<br /><br /> -<small><i>Of a Little Garden on Lake Champlain</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes the sun, like a big bee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Choosing the flowers he will bring to bloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dreams over my garden,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So still the dust shines on his burning wings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes he swings away towards the evening star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To fill his basket claws with night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come morning he sprinkles darkness with his gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rubs legs together—I saw him do it—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there’s a purple larkspur tapering into rose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And blood-red columbine,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s July then.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or the big bee finds a flaming dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scours it with pollen from his back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there’s a poppy’s glossy wrinkled cup,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then it’s June.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At times he scoops the white crest off a wave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the basket of his claws—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve seen the big bee skip upon the lake for joy—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then zi-ig! He’s back again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spreading some lilies by the sandy path,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White with gold dashed on their lips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where he clings—the big bee—sucking.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know he’s there because the bells ring so:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seven lilies, then five, then four,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I count them on their stems,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a>{17}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">An octave’s length of melody,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little running song of happiness,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s August then.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But now he’s quiet.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some waste of gold in autumn leaves and fields,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gold upon the lake—pale leaf of drifting waters<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cut by the wild duck’s close, sharp flight—frets him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he must store in steep sky granaries much bannered gold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With which to hang a hundred winter dawns and dusks.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still, he spares a little for my garden’s need,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spreading it in marigolds and frost,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is September then,—October, too.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The bee, the big bee, the burning bee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Begins and ends in gold.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In spring, knocking the snow from rosy apple bloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He climbs the sky with fagots on his back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To scatter them in yellow willow twigs and daffodils;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he leaves my garden for his sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flings daffodils along an evening sky,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s May then, and April, too.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Some say there are no sky daffodils and no big bee.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pooh! I say the sun is a bee, a big bee, a burning bee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bears the whole world’s wealth upon his back.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What if he is a ruby humming bird betimes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or a saffron butterfly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or a gray-hooded moth at dusk!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a>{18}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’ve seen him when he was an emerald dragon fly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About my little garden’s pool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But not for long.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has his mysteries.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His winter’s cell of silver white has neither rose nor red nor gold.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who would not like the change?...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I say the sun is a bee, a big bee, a burning bee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I <i>know</i>!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a>{19}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="WILD_GRAPE_VINE" id="WILD_GRAPE_VINE"></a>WILD GRAPE VINE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I will be like a wild grape vine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will climb the sun gathering color;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until every leaf of my being is fluted with rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cupped in brown-gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dusted with silver.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will cling with my dry stem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until my stem is strong as brown cedar.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then will I swing from tree to tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Twisting, turning, blowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Binding all trees with my tendrils,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Embracing them, leaping with them,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Woven in and out of them,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the wild bee shall love me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wild bee shall follow me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With song!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I shall be mad fragrance at dusk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sweet odor at dawn.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then!—And then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among all beloved trees which can resist me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They will yield themselves to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I shall swing over the whole world,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every forest of earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every dim place, withdrawn, silent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every wilderness,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spanning the sky with a vast arch of rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beating upon the stars with my gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kissing the dawn with my silver,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a>{20}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Resting in my brown upon earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My roots in her, my fruit her being!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Wind, Wind,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Then will the mad fragrance of my breath be your breath,—</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The wild bee clinging!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Wind, Wind,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Then will my hard dry stem know the flight of bird,—</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The wild bee following!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Wind, Wind,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Then will my love know the flutter of soft leaf upon me,—</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The wild bee singing!</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a>{21}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="TO_SOME_FLOWERS" id="TO_SOME_FLOWERS"></a>TO SOME FLOWERS<br /><br /> -<small><i>Growing Near a Wall of Portland Harbor</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What will you bring today?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nod once if it be grave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nod thrice if it be gay!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Primrose with eyes for night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet-peas with wings for flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poppies with cups for dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love in the midst of rue:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which nods to me?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No, you turn your faces all one way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against the wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because a wind from off the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Draws its chill fingers down your cups<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bids your petals fall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You do not nod,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You beckon neither once nor thrice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me, but to the earth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There slips a cover manifold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of every hue.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And from the wall beside the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Curl mist and myriad broken wings.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Such gift you give to me!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a>{22}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="STARS" id="STARS"></a>STARS</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When joys were vivid I did sit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within a golden field,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there I pulled the whitest stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Green earth can yield.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For Bethlehem those stars were named,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Lord Christ sat with me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I was little and I leaned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon His knee.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now I am old and joys are gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Christ in this room I find<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who brings from distant Bethlehem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stars for His blind.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a>{23}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="GREEN_GOLDEN_DOOR" id="GREEN_GOLDEN_DOOR"></a>GREEN GOLDEN DOOR</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Green golden door, swing in, swing in!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fanning the life a man must live,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Echoes and airs and minstrelsies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love and hope that he calleth his,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fear and hurt and a man’s own sin<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Casting them forth and sucking them in,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Green golden door, swing out, swing out!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Green golden door, swing in, swing in!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Show me the youth that will not die,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tell me the dream that has not waked,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Seek me the heart that never ached,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Speak me the truth men will not doubt!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Green golden door, swing out, swing out!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Green golden door, swing in, swing out!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Long is the wailing of man’s breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Short is the wail of death.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a>{24}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="BREAD" id="BREAD"></a>BREAD</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear and Unknown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So you shower white porcelain with roses for me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Red roses, white roses, roses of rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clipping their stems,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spreading them out in the bowl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the green leaves net the white water with silver,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glisten with light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stir with the stir of their pattern of leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the breath of their draught of cool water,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the bloom of rose petals crisp in the peace of white water,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Safe in the shadow of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tasting the gift of new life.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once beauty was bread unto me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But now I am gone, rob none for my bread.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God gave me a soul no rose, red or white, ever equalled.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did God give me love?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What doubling of petals has ever brought grief?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What leaf?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In what garden is life crushed always to dreams?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, now, what are roses to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Red roses, white roses and roses of rose?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Does God give the roses a soul for their flight?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What petals blow on this journey I go?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a>{25}</span></p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dear, my Unknown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put no rose to my lips cold in this porcelain bowl of myself!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Roses, red roses, white roses, roses of rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once bread unto me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rain them on pulses that beat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Toss them to hands which are quick to their bloom;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give them, I beg you, to one who can see;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Feed them, I pray you,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Roses, red roses, white roses, roses of rose,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To men who still hunger for bread!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a>{26}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="OBSCURITY" id="OBSCURITY"></a>OBSCURITY</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Someday I shall be a leaf<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shining green leaf, fan-folded,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One of many opening in a sunlit wind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or I shall be a bit of bark,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Say on the Poverty Birch—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since I am obscure and poor and short of life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my work of no account to commerce—,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I shall flutter there in the wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My bit of sooty white rind speckled red and gold like trout skin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cross-hatched with lines of color;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or—but I do not know what I shall be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it does not matter.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God has made so much that alters beautiful:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The jigging shadows of trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through which thoughts pass to that which does not change;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind that tramps eternity;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The very lava of this universe He turns to frost;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like frost He throws white fingers up out of loam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tosses into space the spinning stars.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder whether ragged autumn leaves feel ill clad<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remembering their soft dress in spring?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or whether autumn browns seem dreary to the leaves and grass?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a>{27}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And growing older makes cedars shabby at the stem?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear the hard, dry clatter of some dead oak leaves,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They sound so strong for any wind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But sometimes when I am tired my dress makes me ashamed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I am awkward and ill at ease—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clothes have a way of telling stories<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even as the bark of trees will tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which way the storm winds blow—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I remember when I was young<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And scarcely knew that money paid for clothes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My garments were fresh and silken like poplar leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there were more than I needed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my hair was soft and thick,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With gold always in it as in the larch in early spring;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my body was lithe and vigorous;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I was tired it was the quick dip of the sapling in the storm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The least clearing wind set me free again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I stood straight with all my quivering aspen leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shaking the sunlight into dance.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now I lie awake at night, many nights,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes when I am ill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes when I am well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And think about money and rents in worn clothes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And feel the hunger of old women and backyard cats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if it were my own hunger;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a>{28}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wind noses about for crumbs in a bit of newspaper<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flaps tattered dirty shawls over me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my thoughts are bent and old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I shiver in the dark trying to bless God.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wonder why God gives Himself to trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lets old women starve?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And backyard cats nose for crumbs in a piece of newspaper?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And why certain rich people are as well varnished against cold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As fat beech buds against the frost?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do you suppose God is a Merchant<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sells this warm lustre from the stars—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stars hung like bright drops of water in a big night wind—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And plans to make a profit from the rich?...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am not an anarchist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Except in stars.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>When the dawn comes it brings the crows.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Caw! Caw! Caw! The crows!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The crow sleeps east but west he blows</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>To pick some carrion that he knows</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Caw! Caw! Caw! It blows!</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I travel East to meet the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a gray heron battling up against the wind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a>{29}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the nests that knew the ravens in their sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the trees that toss the light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the rocks that blossom into rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On towards the sun!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It does not matter now how I am clothed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For my mind glitters with a thousand thoughts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Star-sown, moon-shaped, sun-colored,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amber-shining like polished foliage in a great dawn wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the lustre on the heron’s breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is now God and now the Morning Star:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I travel East to meet the sun!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a>{30}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="BROWN_MOTHER" id="BROWN_MOTHER"></a>BROWN MOTHER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Brown Mother, Earth Mother, my love does it stir, is it living?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is this seed-time in darkness? It is bleak, and the rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drums hard on this silence, makes heavy my pain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am blind yet the wind does search me like eyes that are old.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, my Mother, sweet Mother, through the lengthening night it is cold!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Brown Mother, Earth Mother, the swell of your bosom, the scent of your hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They are life, they are death, two in one to your child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the flame of your blossom, the sweep of your wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or the primal red mud of life’s sowing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Earth Mother, brown Mother, dear Mother, will the long night be run?...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touch the root to its milk, do you say? Send the sap to the bud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Feel the five-fingered leaf on my bosom, the grass on my lip?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Find my bed in the wild? Bear the rose and the lily for child?...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O, my Mother, Earth Mother, reach me round with your loving,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fold me in to your heart, base me deep on your breast for this sleep!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a>{31}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then, Mother, sweet Mother, with the clay and the spring I shall wake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turn my back to the East with its frost and its manacled trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turn my face to the West and the blaze of my lover the Sun!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a>{32}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="SEA_GULLS" id="SEA_GULLS"></a>SEA GULLS<br /><br /> -<small><i>On Leaving Eggemoggin</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sea gulls I saw lifting the dawn with rosy feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing the sunlight on their wings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dripping the dusk from burnished plumes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I thought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It would be joy to be a sea gull<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At dusk, at dawn of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And through long sunlit hours.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sea gulls I saw carrying the night upon their backs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wide tail spread crescent for the moon and stars—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moon a glowing jelly fish,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stars foam flecks of light;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I thought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It would be joy to be a sea gull!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How I would dart with them,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strike storm with coral spur,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rip whirling spray of angry tides,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Snatch mangled, light-shot offal of the sea,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Torn, tossed and moving terribly;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stare for stare answer those myriad eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That float and sway, stab, sting and die away!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How I would peer from wide cold eyes of fire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At dusk, at dawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And through the long daylight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into those coiling depths of sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then split the sun, the moon, the stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With laughter, laughter, laughter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the sea’s mad power!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a>{33}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="DRAGON" id="DRAGON"></a>DRAGON</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Some saw a dragon eating up the light,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Oho! Oho! Oho, ho, ho!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Some heard a lost bird riding out the night,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Oho! Oho! Oho, ho, ho!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>But I saw</i>:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A low dark hill with its twisted back,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Two wings of flame from the green cloud rack,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A sprawling flank overlaid with leaf<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Glitter and gleam and shine like steel,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Crackle and lash like a serpent’s tail!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>And I heard</i>:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The wind draw out of the west and wail,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dance and stagger and jig and reel<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the long low sound of a life in grief!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>I saw a life in grief</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Oho! Oho! Oho, ho, ho!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Dance and stagger and jig and reel!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Oho! Oho! Oho, ho, ho!</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a>{34}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_WANDERER" id="THE_WANDERER"></a>THE WANDERER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hear the illimitable wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rush from a desolate sea of space<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the valley’s folded gloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And smite the branches gibbeted<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On frosty trees, and lash the woods<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To moans of age-old agony!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hark! how it leaps upon the roofs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of cottages, to drop whimpering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like some old dog before the door of home;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or pipes through chink and sill, a witless thing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is the only houseless one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A pensioner of sea and cloud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An outcast in a universe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of night and day, of life and death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An alien, frenzied wanderer,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Homeless, illimitable wind!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a>{35}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="BLIND_SLEEP" id="BLIND_SLEEP"></a>BLIND SLEEP</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In dreams have come to stay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Earth’s golden bonnet of the day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her gay attire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dove wings gray she wore at dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ivory of her cradled breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her dusk of plumèd fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all her garments of delight.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Heavily I grope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Step after step,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Afar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About this star-illumined sod,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silver with all the slumber of the world,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jewelled with every gem of light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Splintered with frosty air,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And know blind sleep.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a>{36}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_BOWL" id="THE_BOWL"></a>THE BOWL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">God said, “For you this bowl is life!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Draw near and look!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Therein is the bright water of dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Night’s silver covering of rain!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Therein is dream lying like day,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Topaz with sun upon it!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lithe out of this bowl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall leap the larch in spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For this is love,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Green flame of flight to the very tip!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I looked into the bowl, wondering:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And night and dawn mingled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sleep stirred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the day turned in its dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flame, flickering, swept the bowl’s lip.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then I took the bowl in my two hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thanking God.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But now in my bowl dawn breaks no more,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the bowl’s lip I hear the iron shudder of dry leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beaten by frozen wind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is no rain to soften sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No day like topaz in the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see the larch crumble to ash,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My arms grow numb back to the very heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Holding this bowl God gave to me!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a>{37}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_GREAT_SILENCE" id="THE_GREAT_SILENCE"></a>THE GREAT SILENCE</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Magnificent, my Own,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the City’s crash of sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the marching of her war-shod feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear you call, “I am alone,—alone!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that full, tragic voice of yours repeat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Echo and tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Alone,—I am alone!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, Splendid One,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stars still hang the City’s night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With peace and light!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What wars could ever bind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The signing of God’s universe in space?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You turn your eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burning, ancient, wise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And speak, “All have I seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Evil and good,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All man has been,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All man has done,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I am blind.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But God, I cried ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then came your moan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like Pontius Pilate overthrown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“God I have denied!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a>{38}</span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Magnificent, my Own,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There beyond the City’s sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are pinnacle and dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rushing of a mighty stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The night-wind’s cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thunder-harp of pine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Oh, Christ,” you weep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“They are not mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They are not mine!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cannot see, I cannot hear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only I remember year on year<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Abel and Cain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet somewhere in this welter of my pain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I keep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Memory of another,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">those two lost syllables of doom.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“What syllables are they, my Own?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“That word is ‘Brother’!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a>{39}</span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WHITE_HAIR" id="WHITE_HAIR"></a>WHITE HAIR</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All the warmth has gone out of white hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It only answers to the wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lifts and stirs like creeping snow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Close to the frozen scalp of earth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It has no gold of autumn grasses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or red of beech buds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or warm brown of tree bark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or depths of quiet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In which eyes burn like star-flame in a dark night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Has death white hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the cramped empty shoulders of old age?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If he has, I shall be as a child, frightened and trying to hide from him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But if his touch is the touch of warm rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If his breath is sweet like the gray-green fruit of the juniper,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If his shoulder is deep and strong like the up-heaved root of hemlock<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his hair velvet-dusk as a moth’s wing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then I shall go to him gladly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sleep well....<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a>{40}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="CLEAR_POOLS" id="CLEAR_POOLS"></a>CLEAR POOLS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What is this bitterness of love that scatters dust in the eyes?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What this absence that shrivels the heart and the blood?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What these cries that stop the ears with their pain?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let us take our love unto God,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He understands, He has fashioned us and is kind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How well He knows that love must carry its burden<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If it would run to bathe in clear pools and lift its eyes to the stars!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What are we that we should not know that we are His,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of Him our passion and of Him our tears?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His breast is deep and He will fold us there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the mystery of His dark, in the miracle of His closeness.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Distance from us knows He not nor space,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And our love which is His how can it be divided from itself?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are we not one even as we are His?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What is that cry?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is it sorrow or is it the wind upon the waters?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What is this light that flows like a brook?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How well He knows that love must carry its burden,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If it would run to bathe in clear pools and lift its eyes to the stars!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a>{41}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THESE_TWO" id="THESE_TWO"></a>THESE TWO</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes when I am alone at night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I put my hand upon my heart;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But it matters little to me that these two are one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the deep inflow of the rushing blood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even to the extremity of each living finger<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swung from hollowed palm and flexible wrist:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This heart and hand that are so wonderful,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So joined in life; so fashioned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the beat of pulse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And passionate discernment of touch for joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So separate and yet not to be divided.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is not of them I am thinking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I place my hand on my heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the lonely night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In its weight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Again I feel your head lying on my breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in its touch the oval of your childlike face.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You are wide-eyed once more,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With those gray eyes of the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full of space and the shadows of birds’ wings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the terror of known depths of human tragedy;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You are wide-eyed now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looking into the dark with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wondering about the night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I cannot believe that it is only my own hand upon my heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that we are separated;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a>{42}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cannot understand the use of my own fingers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or the beating of my own pulse;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I take my hand away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lie alone in the dark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And suffer.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a>{43}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_RAILROAD_STATION" id="THE_RAILROAD_STATION"></a>THE RAILROAD STATION</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A station is a place of miracle:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So many trains passing and repassing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So many thoughts coming and going,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So many greetings and farewells!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Any surprise might happen there:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God come and go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Street cries turn to stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dust of blown rubbish whirl to aureole!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus, in such a place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love met me once.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That day the shining tracks seemed leaping toward eternity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we heard the street cries sing like stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we saw God come and go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the dust upon our hair was gold!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now, blinded, I look past all I see:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It might happen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love might be there again!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s not that I think a railroad station heaven.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who does!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet so many greetings and farewells,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Anything might happen!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have you not felt that way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, bewildered, watched;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, longing, waited?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a>{44}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="BUBBLES" id="BUBBLES"></a>BUBBLES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How shall I link my thought to yours<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through hours that whirl to dust!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fling me some word will keep me close to you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If but a rainbow bubble like our breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And share with me its swift-revolving dream!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">See how the bubble shapes the silver moon, the golden sun!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In purple sleep it spins among the stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or crimson film it holds the dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only to break in shattered mist upon our lips,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One azure word turned kiss!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a>{45}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="PEDDLED_JOY" id="PEDDLED_JOY"></a>PEDDLED JOY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“May I not sell this gewgaw red?”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“You must not sell!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You cannot buy!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Not sell my own, my heart?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“You two are one: you may not part,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One peddled joy, you both are dead!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Must I go hungry all the way?”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“You must not beg!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You must not cry!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Not for two bits o’love today?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Your empty scrip for pillow keep:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It brings great gifts,—thirst, sorrow, sleep!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a>{46}</span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WORK" id="WORK"></a>WORK</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I told my heart that work must be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The only aim of life for me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But oh! my heart cried, “Love, love, love!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wept bitterly.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a>{47}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="SOMEWHERE_TONIGHT" id="SOMEWHERE_TONIGHT"></a>SOMEWHERE TONIGHT<br /><br /> -<small><i>On hearing the Evening Bells at Westport-on-Lake Champlain</i></small></h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Somewhere I have heard bells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mellow as the moon:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somewhere they hung and swung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With slender sound they rose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tiptoe with hunger for the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Star-pointed with the light of dream;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somewhere those eager bells whispered of love,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That was another day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we were gay!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now this withered sound’s farewell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swinging like tethered rhyme,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slow-moving, pendulous,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sigh upon the water’s breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A cloud within the sky!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never again for us, Belovèd,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet somewhere the moon shines and is bright,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somewhere tonight!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a>{48}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="YOUR_SUNLIT_WAY" id="YOUR_SUNLIT_WAY"></a>YOUR SUNLIT WAY</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Should one thought cry against me in your heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could not rise from Death, saying, “Love, my place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is by your living side; ghostly, I touch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your precious hands, I kiss your lovely face!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I would not have you shrink to feel me near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or claim despite your will what once was mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was ours in God-flung vow, passionate, dear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By night, by day, companioned or apart.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not mine to snare your liberty, to cage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your sunlit way. Yet, wish me gone, I leap<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From light, I plunge to find amen and shroud<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Death,—this time for Love’s eternal sleep.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a>{49}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="STRANGE_FACES" id="STRANGE_FACES"></a>STRANGE FACES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That is the face for me—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That face I shall never see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In this world again!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All that I miss is there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touch of life and its kiss!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, mysterious love in our heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Found for us both as we pass,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As we part!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a>{50}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="EVERYWHERE" id="EVERYWHERE"></a>EVERYWHERE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You I love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You and you:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One I never see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one I know.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Well, and what then?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nothing.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, I ask,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Does the wind blow?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do feet drift or go?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And where?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How shall a tinker mend<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A pinch of dust?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Some things are mine to keep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some to share:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My thoughts I bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I must;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My love I spend<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I wish,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On you I never see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On you I know,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Everywhere.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a>{51}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="CLOUD" id="CLOUD"></a>CLOUD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A slate galleon hurrying across a sea of fire,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they call <i>that</i> “cloud”!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sea it sails upon “sky”!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tut, it is a ship as plain as anything<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full-spread to find the silver edges of the world<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where ships and island daffodils<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burn, follow sun, dip,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cling to the shining brim like flapping butterflies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, whirling sail and streaming daffodil,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dart into night and flame to stars!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the “sky” ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now you tell what the sky is!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a>{52}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="BUCENTAUR" id="BUCENTAUR"></a>BUCENTAUR<br /><br /> -<small><i>At Isle au Haut</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dawn, bright dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White swan on the edge of the dark pool of night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fan the shade from its mirror,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cleave the stars on its deep!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Joyous barge of my dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the wave, on the wind, O Bucentaur,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With your cry sweep the seas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shake the wind from the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wake the world from its sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Meet and greet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Song within song!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Your eyes jewelled fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your touch my desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Draw nearer, draw nearer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the rose-colored stream;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White swan, bright dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kiss me, and lift me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the wing of your light!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a>{53}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="MOTH" id="MOTH"></a>MOTH<br /><br /> -<small><i>At Isle au Haut</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gray as a moth the light of day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dawns in the east,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dimming the star that crowns the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stilling the wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hushing the deep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the water’s sleep;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Flits like a moth’s pearl wing in the night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the peak of mast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the spire of tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touches the nest and its thrush to song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flutters the edge of the sky along.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gray like a moth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dawn slips away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bright in apocalypse of light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rose and gold and green of the world,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind and bird and the great sea’s lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Possess the day!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a>{54}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="GRAY_WATERS" id="GRAY_WATERS"></a>GRAY WATERS<br /><br /> -<small><i>At Isle au Haut</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take me to some isle upon the sea!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bear me on wing of bird or keel of ship<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out where gray waters slip<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About some isle upon the sea,—<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Upon the sea!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lay me within some caverned rock<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose bosom, hard from all the years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knows nothing of men’s tears,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gray peaceful rest beside the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Beside the sea!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take me to some isle upon the sea!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bear me on wing of bird or keel of ship<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out where gray waters slip<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About some isle upon the sea!<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Upon the sea!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a>{55}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="JOURNEYS_END" id="JOURNEYS_END"></a>JOURNEY’S END</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I shall not hear the thrushes sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Though sing they will that day;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For me will be an unknown sod<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And an undreamed-of May!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a>{56}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="WHITE_PATHS" id="WHITE_PATHS"></a>WHITE PATHS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here are white paths that gleam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the twilight space of dream;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here the winds turn in their sleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the rocking of the deep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here the golden song of thrush<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is music’s sunlight, evening’s hush;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here the rustle of our prayer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Climbs the forest altar stair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here the stars burn in the sod—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Peaceful candlelight for God.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a>{57}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="EBONY" id="EBONY"></a>EBONY<br /><br /> -<small><i>On watching a beautiful black arm opening a Venetian Lantern at Fleur de Lys</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ebony, Ebony,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dreaming of a rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flame in the flower-heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dusk in repose;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Jeweled eyes glistening,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dew on the leaf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet to Africa<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is the thought of her grief.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a>{58}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="TO_SOME_PHILADELPHIA_SPARROWS" id="TO_SOME_PHILADELPHIA_SPARROWS"></a>TO SOME PHILADELPHIA SPARROWS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Men say unfriendly words of you, poor birds!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I? I praise you for your saucy joy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On dusty streets; I love you for your twitter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In vines that cling to heated city walls;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your noisy congregations on the trees;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unchurchly ways of saying this and that<br /></span> -<span class="i0">About your brother men; your gaieties<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In parks nearby a fountain’s dripping brim.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Men say your manners are not fine. And, too,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They call you scavengers, they call you thief<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And enemy to other prettier birds.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps we are one feather, you and I!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would not hold it any grief to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your brother bird upon the city street.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I love you, chatterers! Yet I have heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lark in other lands, the thrush in this.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dull many a day had been without your din,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your wrangles under foot, your shameless ways.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Men say unfriendly words of you. Of me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They speak unkindly, too. Yet see how gay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We are! Ah, well, we are one feather, you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I! We have the city streets for plunder,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The eaves for wonder, and above there is<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The sky!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a>{59}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="ORIOLES_NEST" id="ORIOLES_NEST"></a>ORIOLE’S NEST<br /><br /> -<small>AT FLEUR DE LYS</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Night in an oriole’s hanging nest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is rocking a basket world to sleep.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind blows soft<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wind blows far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Star, creep, star!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Pack me tight in my basket world,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tread me and turn me with feet of your love!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, Mother Bird, fledge me with feather and rest!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, Mother Bird, brood me with flame of your breast!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down in the marshes the little fish gleam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down in the marshes the little fish stir<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rushes in sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rushes that keep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wrinkling the light of a drowsy star.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here in my basket world hung on the wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over me rustles an ebony bough,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over me hovers a silvery beak;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And clear and soft<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And near and far<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lustre of loving eyes rocked in this nest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eyes that are gentle,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eyes that are meek.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, Mother Bird, fledge me with feather and rest!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, Mother Bird, brood me with flame of your breast!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a>{60}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="LITTLE_MISS_HILLY" id="LITTLE_MISS_HILLY"></a>LITTLE MISS HILLY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, little Miss Hilly of Northampton-town<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Goes walking the valleys and meadows adown;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She looks in the brooks for the stars and the moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she sings an old chanty a bit out of tune.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh, little Miss Hilly is dear unto me,—<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Is dear unto me!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her arms are so eager but tiny are they,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her fingers are agile as waters at play.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet little Miss Hilly must climb a steep slope,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must go without laughter and live without hope:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must chatter and patter like leaves and like rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must shiver and quiver and ache with the pain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of climbing for stars and wanting the moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As she puts an old chanty once more into tune,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere the stars will come down or the moon will reply<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Except by a wink through a chink in the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh, little Miss Hilly so dear unto me,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">So dear unto me!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a>{61}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="ROSE_TOADA" id="ROSE_TOADA"></a>ROSE TOADA<br /><br /> -<small><i>A Sleep Song</i></small></h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Shoo, Rose Toada, Shoo!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jewelled red eyes for you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shoo, Rose Toada, Shoo!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hoosh, Rose Toada, hoosh!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little green snake in the bush.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hoosh, Rose Toada, hoosh!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bizz, Rose Toada, buzz!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gold on its wings and fuzz.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bizz, Rose Toada, buzz!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a>{62}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THATCH" id="THATCH"></a>THATCH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh Boy, give me your yellow thatch for home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your yellow thatch of hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Straw with the wind and air!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh Boy, give me your stubble cheek to roam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brown hayfield in the dew,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rusty with sun and you!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a>{63}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="SUN-PATH" id="SUN-PATH"></a>SUN-PATH</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">How should I touch your years with mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yours flushed with dawn, a flight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For all ecstacy of light, of rose, of flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mine shadowed even now by night!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet, child, blown by the dawn-wind of your name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tossed by the sunlight in your eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sped by the glow upon your lips, you came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeking my shadow and my rest.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tell me what made you run to me?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was it the long, unsheltered way from dawn to dusk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hot, unclouded, copper day of truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was it some legend of men’s tears and strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some tale of cowards prospering in the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some sin red-flung across the lilies that men love?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or terror which the old forget, fears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Following as you fled, some shame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of fact too awful for your youth to bear?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Back to your sun-path now you run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on with wing of bird and flight of sun.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your youth upon its golden way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgets it ever asked for rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgets my desolated day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me you left your tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your fears a-tremble,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hunger in mine eyes for you.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I? I leave you free.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a>{64}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="RAVELLO" id="RAVELLO"></a>RAVELLO<br /><br /> -<small><i>A Recollection of the Garden in which Wagner composed “Parzival”</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Words glimmering like candles in the dusk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You tell your golden tale of Italy,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ravello and its starlit, tranquil sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among massed trees sleep-hung with jewelled fruit;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Antiquity against a shadowed sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everywhere old gardens where men loved<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So long ago, and the moon rose on vows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thirsty human lips aching to meet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the moon set on darkling ivory-petalled rows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of lilies and on hands dim with loneliness:—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Below, Amalfi’s campanile plays<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its even-song, full chant and antiphon,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A wish, a hope, a call from star to star.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O, Compassionate One, night-long with you I hark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The travelling of that music lost in space,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The echoing of those faithful feet of men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And touch the blurred chalcedony of tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And breathe those candle-lighted thoughts, faint musk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of old days vanished in silence now!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Night-long I dream your face pressed close to mine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is lily of Ravello in its sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touched with some ancient sorrow gardens keep,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An ivory-petalled dream whose ghostly passions shine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like fingers in the dark struggling with fears:—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O, set your love for me, my Own, my Sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The whiteness of your breast and brow aglow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With God, like candleshine before my feet!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a>{65}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHESTER-ON-THE_DEE" id="CHESTER-ON-THE_DEE"></a>CHESTER-ON-THE DEE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sleep, little town, your moonlit walls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are hushed with long-ago!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Night, like your river, brings to you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgetfulness of woe.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Peace, little town! Grave sleep is this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That aches in love and tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With singing stream, with shining dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sense of other years.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a>{66}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_RIVER_SEIONT" id="THE_RIVER_SEIONT"></a>THE RIVER SEIONT<br /><br /> -<small><i>At Carnarvon in North Wales</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where the salt sea winds her sleeping path<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up the River Seiont in summer time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And daisies flush the aftermath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of stubble corn; and heavy cows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wait by the water’s edge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While cloud-capped Snowdon hills grow dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fading Anglesey a crystal rim,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Your spirit comes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A tidal sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Winding,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Up the River Seiont,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Past the purple hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Winding,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Past the Castle wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Winding;—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Your spirit comes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Winding,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Up the River Seiont<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To me.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a>{67}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="GOLD_AND_IVORY" id="GOLD_AND_IVORY"></a>GOLD AND IVORY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They lie beside me all the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They crowd up close to me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I turn, they turn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when I sigh, they cry.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Says one: “I am the love you sought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now wrinkled to an afterthought.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The other whispers in my ear:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“You coveted:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behold, I lie here dead!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are the gifts sleep brings to me,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My dreams of gold and ivory!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a>{68}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="STEPS" id="STEPS"></a>STEPS</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There is a stair to climb<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That—Christ you keep!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Men stumble there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is so steep.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Its steps give scarce foothold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet, pilgrim-shod,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hungry, athirst,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Men climb to God.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a>{69}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="BESIDE_THE_WAY" id="BESIDE_THE_WAY"></a>BESIDE THE WAY</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O, little wind of every day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, little wind of hope,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bring to me love<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beside the way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, little wind of every day!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s vexing work for scanty keep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With tears for daily drink,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And but this cup<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To bring me sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This cup of golden love dream-deep.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O, little wind of every day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, little wind of hope,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bring to me love<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beside the way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, little wind of every day!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a>{70}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="WAIT_AWHILE" id="WAIT_AWHILE"></a>WAIT AWHILE</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If you would know my mother-heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then wait awhile, be still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Watch for the settling dusky light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The silence, on the hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wait awhile, be still.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Love, heed the clap of little hands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of leaves upon my trees;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hear the travelling of the wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moving of the seas;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then wait awhile, be still.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If you would know my mother-heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But watch the wasting day!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind steps softly in the corn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The light slips to the hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love, wait awhile, be still.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a>{71}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="INDIAN_SUMMER" id="INDIAN_SUMMER"></a>INDIAN SUMMER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Blossoms shaken from their star forms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back to earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flying seedlings warm and waiting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drift in sunlight with the going<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the birds towards the south!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Birds are going!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They will sing before they go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fill the orchard with their mirth:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Song of harvest, song of summer, song of springtime,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They remember it was April long ago!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We are parting,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You are going towards the south!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love was birth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is this dying,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Death my harvest, grief my summer, tears my springtime?...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Well, kiss me kindly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Song is warmest on the mouth!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give me love before you go!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a>{72}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_THOUSAND_YEARS" id="A_THOUSAND_YEARS"></a>A THOUSAND YEARS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">A thousand years from now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No one will know that you and I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lifted our arms to touch the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And clasped an empty vow,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No one will know,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We loved so long ago!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">A thousand years from now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We shall not hear the cry of hope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Linger, remember, echo, grope,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">While mornings glow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And evenings come and go!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">A thousand years from now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No one will know that we have slept<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Breast to each other’s breast and wept,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No one will know<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We loved so long ago!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">A thousand years from now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We shall not see love welcome death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dreams harden into frosted breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spring burn the apple bough<br /></span> -<span class="i2">While mornings glow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And evenings come and go!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a>{73}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_BROKEN_DOOR" id="THE_BROKEN_DOOR"></a>THE BROKEN DOOR</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This is the place! I know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The broken door, the ragged bed of bloom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where poppies grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Row after row.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This is the place.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A year ago, her footprint<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Marked the garden path<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With tender hollow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But now?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time’s step is slow to follow.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a>{74}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="ONLY_YOUR_NAME" id="ONLY_YOUR_NAME"></a>ONLY YOUR NAME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes I wake from sleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only your name drawing across my lips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In creeping wind from unlit space,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No star sparks flickering on that wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No signal tree top touched with racing light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No lantern-memory hung to show the way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only a pathless name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark, terrible, meaningless because most near!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet I never knew you,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only your name and pain!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a>{75}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="REPETENDS" id="REPETENDS"></a>REPETENDS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the still woods I find your eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear your voice once more<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the far-singing hermit thrush<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond our northern door.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the still woods pale repetends<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I find of death and grief<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In fallen nest and perished bee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sepulchre of leaf.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a>{76}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="TOO_LATE" id="TOO_LATE"></a>TOO LATE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is too long, too long!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My heart grows old with grieving<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the touch of you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is too far, too far!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My eyes are dazed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With searching emptiness,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dark, the blurred horizon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With its dust of other feet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is too late, too late!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gray thoughts stalk round me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With their death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I strike my tent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I go.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not even dreams can bring you now,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too long, too far, too late!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a>{77}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_TIDE" id="THE_TIDE"></a>THE TIDE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I shall find you when the tide comes in,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shell, a sound, a flash of light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To live with me by day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To dream with me by night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">You come and go<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As waters flow;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You lap me round<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You pour me full;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A shell at rest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You touch my breast.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I feel your will,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I am bound<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By light, by sound;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To love you still.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I shall find you when the tide comes in,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shell, a sound, a flash of light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Men say you died.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They knew not what to say,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear the tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear the tide!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a>{78}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="DUST_AND_DREAMS" id="DUST_AND_DREAMS"></a>DUST AND DREAMS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At peace with every sweet remembered thing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You lie; with woodland song that died long years<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ago; with pebbles washed ashore and fears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Released and feathers broken from the wing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That beat its westward flight towards the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some far nest beside some unknown sea:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I would not answer when you called to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And now my thought of you is never done.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This starlit road with its dark towering pines,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its dust of misty pollen blown in cloud<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From field to field, its silences, its shroud<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of clinging dark and all its trailing vines<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White with moonshine and the priestly dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We shared. Tonight I travel it alone,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Alone I go towards that glistening stone<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which marks your rest, my thought a prayer for you.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Singing the water rushes past your quiet grave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath this little town whose ancient name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Suggests the fair collegiate dream and fame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Oxford and her clustered towers. With wave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The river winds a garland for your rest—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The woven sound of grieving without end.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To you I bring the memory of a friend<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And lay these words on your remembered breast.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a>{79}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_NEST" id="THE_NEST"></a>THE NEST</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, is there room at your feet, dear one?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And is there room at your side?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And can you hear the sound of my breath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sorrow that cries like a tide?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, may I take your hand, dear one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the nest enfolds the bird,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lie close to your heart and breast to breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never a spoken word?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What then if the stars be gone, dear one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What then if the wind be still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And words that we spoke long years ago<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drift pale and faint and chill?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our dust shall be warmed by the sun, dear one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our grief shall fade with the snow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And mingled in spring by sun and rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our love to a flower blow.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, is there room at your feet, dear one?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And is there room at your side?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And can you hear the sound of my breath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sorrow that cries like a tide?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a>{80}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="LOST_LOVE" id="LOST_LOVE"></a>LOST LOVE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You have her mouth of grief,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your parted lips half-shape a moan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You have her brow branded with memory;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You have her downcast eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brooding like doves above the body’s need;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You have her heart of love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where music flows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sorrows nurse.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O Voice of all lost love and agony,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cecilia, Saint,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We beg the healing of your breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Music at our lips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sleep!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a>{81}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="WHEN_SPRING" id="WHEN_SPRING"></a>“WHEN SPRING”<br /><br /> -<small>A BALLAD OF LOVE</small></h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When spring was in her heart beat,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her lover came from sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She gave him passion’s lily cup,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He gave her thistles three.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When spring was in her heart beat,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He filled their lily cup<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With bitter dew and star dust<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And frozen spray to sup.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When spring was in her heart beat,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He snared the only star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still racing on her dream path:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Now other thistles are!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He said a little tinsel<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would serve her last journee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And nailed a glittering handful<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon a willow tree.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now death drags at her heart beat<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She sees gray branches weep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They drip but ashen starlight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Singing, “Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a>{82}</span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="TWO_CANDLES" id="TWO_CANDLES"></a>TWO CANDLES<br /><br /> -<small>TO MY MOTHER AT FLEUR DE LYS</small></h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Two candles place I at her feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Two candles at her head;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are the gifts that I would bring<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To my Belovèd Dead.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I sought the violet of her eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her eyes were closed in sleep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My love was trembling like a child<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And could not even weep.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I clad her in a purple shroud,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Some said it should be white;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I said, “The passion of her eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Found peace in candlelight!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes I see her ash-gold hair<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Shimmer within the night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes I feel her violet eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Searching for candlelight.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a>{83}</span></p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes I hear her drifting feet<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That seek from door to door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Guided by star and blowing wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dream-shod forevermore.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When will she come again to me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Led by the wind and star?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She need not even call my name,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I could not wander far.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Two candles place I at her feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Two candles at her head:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Remembrance and Oblivion<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Enfold my lonely dead.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a>{84}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="ROSY_MILLER" id="ROSY_MILLER"></a>ROSY MILLER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I do not ever remember having seen Rosy Miller;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never met her;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet lose her I never can.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One night at dusk she came down a hill with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the stars glowed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the college buildings were laced with window lights,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And beyond them were the dark hills.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was the speech of a friend that made her live for me—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was living then—,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rosy Miller, who gave and gave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who, a child still, had learned the whole meaning of life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who asked nothing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who never held a hand out mendicant to others.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That was three years ago, that hour at dusk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now they say she is dead.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But that is a mistake:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even for me who never knew her she still lives.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a>{85}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="HIS_NAME" id="HIS_NAME"></a>HIS NAME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He loved men with a great soul’s deepest love;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He saw in them truth, hope, the very flame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of constancy. And then alone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He died. Men have forgot his name.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a>{86}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="MIST" id="MIST"></a>MIST</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I climb them step by step,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The vanished years.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stumbling I pause to look below,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down wells of time, so black, so deep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their waters keep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor show a star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor hold a memory.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes I kneel and look above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That dark stairway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At years to come;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My fingers clasp my fears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where my hopes go.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up there, beyond that last, gray step,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Afar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within that roof of mist,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What is that shape in flight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dim, strong and slow?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“A wing,” some say;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some answer, “Love”;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some say, “Night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Sleep.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I do not know.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a>{87}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="LAST_DAWN" id="LAST_DAWN"></a>LAST DAWN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When that last dawn comes, what will it be?—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A plume of fire on a cloud of gray;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shrouded ship in a cocoon sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A mountain peak with its one gold star;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A bird’s nest swung by a silver wind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or the curve of an arm with its cradled child?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What will that last dawn be?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And God, what will God be?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The plume of fire or the mist-spun ship,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mountain peak with its signal star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The nest blown wide for the coming day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or the child in the human passionate arms?...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wonder what God will be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And who shall see!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a>{88}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="EVEN_AS_HERE" id="EVEN_AS_HERE"></a>EVEN AS HERE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This is the end to which I come,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I who have loved beauty all my days:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This grief of tortured flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This prison box devised by men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These nails and hasps and graven plates,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This narrow room, these curious eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This tolling bell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These mumbled words miscalled of God,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This brutal stone!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O, rather, Love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lay me on sweet-burning cedar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Free, fragrant with beaded pitch where the clean axe cut,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With flame that leaps from singing heart of wood to mine!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then cast me as ash upon the quilted colors of the autumn hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I shall be pale lace of wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To kiss your lips, your eyes once more!<br /></span> - -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or strew me on water<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till I know again its slipping hands of dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see its golden deep of sand shadowed with memories,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And feel its cradling touch soft as your moving breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In closeness beyond the reach of words!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a>{89}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or toss me as a feather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To some little shepherd moon and flock of stars<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where, in the slow-rolling of prodigious hours<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round the blown crust of other worlds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Space beyond space,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall find you,—even as here!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a>{90}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="AGAIN" id="AGAIN"></a>AGAIN?<br /><br /> -<small><i>To my Home on Lake Champlain</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Shall I come again?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Again to see the reeds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yellowing now?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2"><i>“Bye and bye!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Bye and bye!”</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Lake rushes cry.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Shall I come again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To these willow leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Falling now?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2"><i>Their joy was brief!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>The willow leaf</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Knows grief.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Shall I breathe again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gray balsam dripping amber<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the mould?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2"><i>What knows the year</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Of any fear,—</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Of any amber tear!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>September 27, 1920.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Willow Pollen, by Jeannette Augustus Marks - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILLOW POLLEN *** - -***** This file should be named 53099-h.htm or 53099-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/0/9/53099/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif, MWS and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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