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@@ -0,0 +1,3058 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rivers to the Sea, by Sara Teasdale + +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 + + +Title: Rivers to the Sea + +Author: Sara Teasdale + +Posting Date: July 30, 2008 [EBook #596] +Release Date: July, 1996 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RIVERS TO THE SEA *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss + + + + + + + + +RIVERS TO THE SEA + + +BY + +SARA TEASDALE + + + + + To + ERNST + + + + CONTENTS + + + PART I + + + SPRING NIGHT + THE FLIGHT + NEW LOVE AND OLD + THE LOOK + SPRING + THE LIGHTED WINDOW + THE KISS + SWANS + THE OLD MAID + FROM THE WOOLWORTH TOWER + AT NIGHT + THE YEARS + PEACE + APRIL + COME + MOODS + APRIL SONG + MAY DAY + CROWNED + TO A CASTILIAN SONG + BROADWAY + A WINTER BLUEJAY + IN A RESTAURANT + JOY + IN A RAILROAD STATION + IN THE TRAIN + TO ONE AWAY + SONG + DEEP IN THE NIGHT + THE INDIA WHARF + I SHALL NOT CARE + DESERT POOLS + LONGING + PITY + AFTER PARTING + ENOUGH + ALCHEMY + FEBRUARY + MORNING + MAY NIGHT + DUSK IN JUNE + LOVE-FREE + SUMMER NIGHT, RIVERSIDE + IN A SUBWAY STATION + AFTER LOVE + DOORYARD ROSES + A PRAYER + + + PART II + + INDIAN SUMMER + THE SEA WIND + THE CLOUD + THE POOR HOUSE + NEW YEAR'S DAWN-BROADWAY + THE STAR + DOCTORS + THE INN OF EARTH + IN THE CARPENTER'S SHOP + THE CARPENTER'S SON + THE MOTHER OF A POET + IN MEMORIAM F. O. S + TWILIGHT + SWALLOW FLIGHT + THOUGHTS + TO DICK, ON HIS SIXTH BIRTHDAY + TO ROSE + THE FOUNTAIN + THE ROSE + DREAMS + "I AM NOT YOURS" + PIERROT'S SONG + NIGHT IN ARIZONA + DUSK IN WAR TIME + SPRING IN WAR TIME + WHILE I MAY + DEBT + FROM THE NORTH + THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK + SEA LONGING + THE RIVER + LEAVES + THE ANSWER + + + PART III + + OVER THE ROOFS + A CRY + CHANCE + IMMORTAL + AFTER DEATH + TESTAMENT + GIFTS + + + PART IV + + FROM THE SEA + VIGNETTES OVERSEAS + + + PART V + + SAPPHO + + + + ---------------------------------- + + I + + + + + SPRING NIGHT + + THE park is filled with night and fog, + The veils are drawn about the world, + The drowsy lights along the paths + Are dim and pearled. + + Gold and gleaming the empty streets, + Gold and gleaming the misty lake, + The mirrored lights like sunken swords, + Glimmer and shake. + + Oh, is it not enough to be + Here with this beauty over me? + My throat should ache with praise, and I + Should kneel in joy beneath the sky. + Oh, beauty are you not enough? + + Why am I crying after love + With youth, a singing voice and eyes + To take earth's wonder with surprise? + Why have I put off my pride, + Why am I unsatisfied, + I for whom the pensive night + Binds her cloudy hair with light, + I for whom all beauty burns + Like incense in a million urns? + Oh, beauty, are you not enough? + Why am I crying after love? + + + + + THE FLIGHT + + LOOK back with longing eyes and know that I will follow, + Lift me up in your love as a light wind lifts a swallow, + Let our flight be far in sun or windy rain-- + BUT WHAT IF I HEARD MY FIRST LOVE CALLING ME AGAIN? + + Hold me on your heart as the brave sea holds the foam, + Take me far away to the hills that hide your home; + Peace shall thatch the roof and love shall latch the door-- + + BUT WHAT IF I HEARD MY FIRST LOVE CALLING ME ONCE MORE? + + + + + NEW LOVE AND OLD + + IN my heart the old love + Struggled with the new; + It was ghostly waking + All night thru. + + Dear things, kind things, + That my old love said, + Ranged themselves reproachfully + Round my bed. + + But I could not heed them, + For I seemed to see + The eyes of my new love + Fixed on me. + + Old love, old love, + How can I be true? + Shall I be faithless to myself + Or to you? + + + + THE LOOK + + STREPHON kissed me in the spring, + Robin in the fall, + But Colin only looked at me + And never kissed at all. + + Strephon's kiss was lost in jest, + Robin's lost in play, + But the kiss in Colin's eyes + Haunts me night and day. + + + + + SPRING + + IN Central Park the lovers sit, + On every hilly path they stroll, + Each thinks his love is infinite, + And crowns his soul. + + But we are cynical and wise, + We walk a careful foot apart, + You make a little joke that tries + To hide your heart. + + Give over, we have laughed enough; + Oh dearest and most foolish friend, + Why do you wage a war with love + To lose your battle in the end? + + + + + THE LIGHTED WINDOW + + HE SAID: + "In the winter dusk + When the pavements were gleaming with rain, + I walked thru a dingy street + Hurried, harassed, + Thinking of all my problems that never are + solved. + Suddenly out of the mist, a flaring gas-jet + Shone from a huddled shop. + I saw thru the bleary window + A mass of playthings: + False-faces hung on strings, + Valentines, paper and tinsel, + Tops of scarlet and green, + Candy, marbles, jacks-- + A confusion of color + Pathetically gaudy and cheap. + All of my boyhood + Rushed back. + Once more these things were treasures + Wildly desired. + With covetous eyes I looked again at the marbles, + The precious agates, the pee-wees, the chinies-- + Then I passed on. + + In the winter dusk, + The pavements were gleaming with rain; + There in the lighted window + I left my boyhood." + + + + + THE KISS + + BEFORE YOU kissed me only winds of heaven + Had kissed me, and the tenderness of rain-- + Now you have come, how can I care for kisses + Like theirs again? + + I sought the sea, she sent her winds to meet me, + They surged about me singing of the south-- + I turned my head away to keep still holy + Your kiss upon my mouth. + + And swift sweet rains of shining April weather + Found not my lips where living kisses are; + I bowed my head lest they put out my glory + As rain puts out a star. + + I am my love's and he is mine forever, + Sealed with a seal and safe forevermore-- + Think you that I could let a beggar enter + Where a king stood before? + + + + + SWANS + + NIGHT is over the park, and a few brave stars + Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold, + The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars + That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold. + + We watch the swans that sleep in a shadowy place, + And now and again one wakes and uplifts its head; + How still you are--your gaze is on my face-- + We watch the swans and never a word is said. + + + + THE OLD MAID + + I SAW her in a Broadway car, + The woman I might grow to be; + I felt my lover look at her + And then turn suddenly to me. + + Her hair was dull and drew no light + And yet its color was as mine; + Her eyes were strangely like my eyes + Tho' love had never made them shine. + + Her body was a thing grown thin, + Hungry for love that never came; + Her soul was frozen in the dark + Unwarmed forever by love's flame. + + I felt my lover look at her + And then turn suddenly to me,-- + His eyes were magic to defy + The woman I shall never be. + + + + FROM THE WOOLWORTH TOWER + + VIVID with love, eager for greater beauty + Out of the night we come + Into the corridor, brilliant and warm. + A metal door slides open, + And the lift receives us. + Swiftly, with sharp unswerving flight + The car shoots upward, + And the air, swirling and angry, + Howls like a hundred devils. + Past the maze of trim bronze doors, + Steadily we ascend. + I cling to you + Conscious of the chasm under us, + And a terrible whirring deafens my ears. + + The flight is ended. + + We pass thru a door leading onto the ledge-- + Wind, night and space + Oh terrible height + Why have we sought you? + Oh bitter wind with icy invisible wings + Why do you beat us? + Why would you bear us away? + We look thru the miles of air, + The cold blue miles between us and the city, + Over the edge of eternity we look + On all the lights, + A thousand times more numerous than the stars; + Oh lines and loops of light in unwound chains + That mark for miles and miles + The vast black mazy cobweb of the streets; + Near us clusters and splashes of living gold + That change far off to bluish steel + Where the fragile lights on the Jersey shore + Tremble like drops of wind-stirred dew. + The strident noises of the city + Floating up to us + Are hallowed into whispers. + Ferries cross thru the darkness + Weaving a golden thread into the night, + Their whistles weird shadows of sound. + + We feel the millions of humanity beneath us,-- + The warm millions, moving under the roofs, + Consumed by their own desires; + Preparing food, + Sobbing alone in a garret, + With burning eyes bending over a needle, + Aimlessly reading the evening paper, + Dancing in the naked light of the café, + Laying out the dead, + Bringing a child to birth-- + The sorrow, the torpor, the bitterness, the frail joy + Come up to us + Like a cold fog wrapping us round. + Oh in a hundred years + Not one of these blood-warm bodies + But will be worthless as clay. + The anguish, the torpor, the toil + Will have passed to other millions + Consumed by the same desires. + Ages will come and go, + Darkness will blot the lights + And the tower will be laid on the earth. + The sea will remain + Black and unchanging, + The stars will look down + Brilliant and unconcerned. + + Beloved, + Tho' sorrow, futility, defeat + Surround us, + They cannot bear us down. + Here on the abyss of eternity + Love has crowned us + For a moment + Victors. + + + + AT NIGHT + + WE are apart; the city grows quiet between us, + She hushes herself, for midnight makes heavy her eyes, + The tangle of traffic is ended, the cars are empty, + Five streets divide us, and on them the moonlight lies. + + Oh are you asleep, or lying awake, my lover? + Open your dreams to my love and your heart to my words, + I send you my thoughts-the air between us is laden, + My thoughts fly in at your window, a flock of wild birds. + + + + + THE YEARS + + TO-NIGHT I close my eyes and see + A strange procession passing me-- + The years before I saw your face + Go by me with a wistful grace; + They pass, the sensitive shy years, + As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears. + + The years went by and never knew + That each one brought me nearer you; + Their path was narrow and apart + And yet it led me to your heart-- + Oh sensitive shy years, oh lonely years, + That strove to sing with voices drowned in tears. + + + + + PEACE + + PEACE flows into me + AS the tide to the pool by the shore; + It is mine forevermore, + It ebbs not back like the sea. + + I am the pool of blue + That worships the vivid sky; + My hopes were heaven-high, + They are all fulfilled in you. + + I am the pool of gold + When sunset burns and dies,-- + You are my deepening skies, + Give me your stars to hold. + + + + + APRIL + + THE roofs are shining from the rain, + The sparrows twitter as they fly, + And with a windy April grace + The little clouds go by. + + Yet the back-yards are bare and brown + With only one unchanging tree-- + I could not be so sure of Spring + Save that it sings in me. + + + + + COME + + COME, when the pale moon like a petal + Floats in the pearly dusk of spring, + Come with arms outstretched to take me, + Come with lips pursed up to cling. + + Come, for life is a frail moth flying + Caught in the web of the years that pass, + And soon we two, so warm and eager + Will be as the gray stones in the grass. + + + + + MOODS + + I AM the still rain falling, + Too tired for singing mirth-- + Oh, be the green fields calling, + Oh, be for me the earth! + I am the brown bird pining + To leave the nest and fly-- + Oh, be the fresh cloud shining, + Oh, be for me the sky! + + + + APRIL SONG + + WILLOW in your April gown + Delicate and gleaming, + Do you mind in years gone by + All my dreaming? + + Spring was like a call to me + That I could not answer, + I was chained to loneliness, + I, the dancer. + + Willow, twinkling in the sun, + Still your leaves and hear me, + I can answer spring at last, + Love is near me! + + + + + MAY DAY + + THE shining line of motors, + The swaying motor-bus, + The prancing dancing horses + Are passing by for us. + + The sunlight on the steeple, + The toys we stop to see, + The smiling passing people + Are all for you and me. + + "I love you and I love you!"-- + "And oh, I love you, too!"-- + "All of the flower girl's lilies + Were only grown for you!" + + Fifth Avenue and April + And love and lack of care-- + The world is mad with music + Too beautiful to bear. + + + + + CROWNED + + I WEAR a crown invisible and clear, + And go my lifted royal way apart + Since you have crowned me softly in your heart + With love that is half ardent, half austere; + And as a queen disguised might pass anear + The bitter crowd that barters in a mart, + Veiling her pride while tears of pity start, + I hide my glory thru a jealous fear. + My crown shall stay a sweet and secret thing + Kept pure with prayer at evensong and morn, + And when you come to take it from my head, + I shall not weep, nor will a word be said, + But I shall kneel before you, oh my king, + And bind my brow forever with a thorn. + + + + + TO A CASTILIAN SONG + + WE held the book together timidly, + Whose antique music in an alien tongue + Once rose among the dew-drenched vines that hung + Beneath a high Castilian balcony. + I felt the lute strings' ancient ecstasy, + And while he read, my love-filled heart was stung, + And throbbed, as where an ardent bird has clung + The branches tremble on a blossomed tree. + Oh lady for whose sake the song was made, + Laid long ago in some still cypress shade, + Divided from the man who longed for thee, + Here in a land whose name he never heard, + His song brought love as April brings the bird, + And not a breath divides my love from me! + + + + + BROADWAY + + THIS is the quiet hour; the theaters + Have gathered in their crowds, and steadily + The million lights blaze on for few to see, + Robbing the sky of stars that should be hers. + A woman waits with bag and shabby furs, + A somber man drifts by, and only we + Pass up the street unwearied, warm and free, + For over us the olden magic stirs. + Beneath the liquid splendor of the lights + We live a little ere the charm is spent; + This night is ours, of all the golden nights, + The pavement an enchanted palace floor, + And Youth the player on the viol, who sent + A strain of music thru an open door. + + + + + A WINTER BLUEJAY + + CRISPLY the bright snow whispered, + Crunching beneath our feet; + Behind us as we walked along the parkway, + Our shadows danced, + Fantastic shapes in vivid blue. + Across the lake the skaters + Flew to and fro, + With sharp turns weaving + A frail invisible net. + In ecstasy the earth + Drank the silver sunlight; + In ecstasy the skaters + Drank the wine of speed; + In ecstasy we laughed + Drinking the wine of love. + Had not the music of our joy + Sounded its highest note? + But no, + For suddenly, with lifted eyes you said, + "Oh look!" + There, on the black bough of a snow flecked maple, + Fearless and gay as our love, + A bluejay cocked his crest! + Oh who can tell the range of joy + Or set the bounds of beauty? + + + + + IN A RESTAURANT + + THE darkened street was muffled with the snow, + The falling flakes had made your shoulders white, + And when we found a shelter from the night + Its glamor fell upon us like a blow. + The clash of dishes and the viol and bow + Mingled beneath the fever of the light. + The heat was full of savors, and the bright + Laughter of women lured the wine to flow. + A little child ate nothing while she sat + Watching a woman at a table there + Lean to a kiss beneath a drooping hat. + The hour went by, we rose and turned to go, + The somber street received us from the glare, + And once more on your shoulders fell the snow. + + + + + JOY + + I AM wild, I will sing to the trees, + I will sing to the stars in the sky, + I love, I am loved, he is mine, + Now at last I can die! + + I am sandaled with wind and with flame, + I have heart-fire and singing to give, + I can tread on the grass or the stars, + Now at last I can live! + + + + + IN A RAILROAD STATION + + WE stood in the shrill electric light, + Dumb and sick in the whirling din + We who had all of love to say + And a single second to say it in. + + "Good-by!" "Good-by!"--you turned to go, + I felt the train's slow heavy start, + You thought to see me cry, but oh + My tears were hidden in my heart. + + + + + IN THE TRAIN + + FIELDS beneath a quilt of snow + From which the rocks and stubble peep, + And in the west a shy white star + That shivers as it wakes from sleep. + + The restless rumble of the train, + The drowsy people in the car, + Steel blue twilight in the world, + And in my heart a timid star. + + + + + TO ONE AWAY + + I HEARD a cry in the night, + A thousand miles it came, + Sharp as a flash of light, + My name, my name! + + It was your voice I heard, + You waked and loved me so-- + I send you back this word, + I know, I know! + + + + + SONG + + Love me with your whole heart + Or give no love to me, + + Half-love is a poor thing, + Neither bond nor free. + + You must love me gladly + Soul and body too, + Or else find a new love, + And good-by to you. + + + + + DEEP IN THE NIGHT + + DEEP in the night the cry of a swallow, + Under the stars he flew, + Keen as pain was his call to follow + Over the world to you. + + Love in my heart is a cry forever + Lost as the swallow's flight, + Seeking for you and never, never + Stilled by the stars at night. + + + + + THE INDIA WHARF + + HERE in the velvet stillness + The wide sown fields fall to the faint horizon, + Sleeping in starlight. . . . + + + A year ago we walked in the jangling city + Together . . . . forgetful. + One by one we crossed the avenues, + Rivers of light, roaring in tumult, + And came to the narrow, knotted streets. + Thru the tense crowd + We went aloof, ecstatic, walking in wonder, + Unconscious of our motion. + Forever the foreign people with dark, deep-seeing eyes + Passed us and passed. + Lights and foreign words and foreign faces, + I forgot them all; + I only felt alive, defiant of all death and sorrow, + Sure and elated. + + That was the gift you gave me. . . . + + The streets grew still more tangled, + And led at last to water black and glossy, + Flecked here and there with lights, faint and far off. + There on a shabby building was a sign + "The India Wharf " . . . and we turned back. + + I always felt we could have taken ship + And crossed the bright green seas + To dreaming cities set on sacred streams + And palaces + Of ivory and scarlet. + + + + + I SHALL NOT CARE + + WHEN I am dead and over me bright April + Shakes out her rain-drenched hair, + Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted, + I shall not care. + + I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful + When rain bends down the bough, + And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted + Than you are now. + + + + + DESERT POOLS + + I LOVE too much; I am a river + Surging with spring that seeks the sea, + I am too generous a giver, + + Love will not stoop to drink of me. + + His feet will turn to desert places + Shadowless, reft of rain and dew, + Where stars stare down with sharpened faces + From heavens pitilessly blue. + + And there at midnight sick with faring, + He will stoop down in his desire + To slake the thirst grown past all bearing + In stagnant water keen as fire. + + + + + LONGING + + I AM not sorry for my soul + That it must go unsatisfied, + For it can live a thousand times, + Eternity is deep and wide. + + I am not sorry for my soul, + But oh, my body that must go + Back to a little drift of dust + Without the joy it longed to know. + + + + + PITY + + THEY never saw my lover's face, + They only know our love was brief, + Wearing awhile a windy grace + And passing like an autumn leaf. + + They wonder why I do not weep, + They think it strange that I can sing, + They say, "Her love was scarcely deep + Since it has left so slight a sting." + + They never saw my love, nor knew + That in my heart's most secret place + I pity them as angels do + + Men who have never seen God's face. + + + + + AFTER PARTING + + OH I have sown my love so wide + That he will find it everywhere; + It will awake him in the night, + It will enfold him in the air. + + I set my shadow in his sight + And I have winged it with desire, + That it may be a cloud by day + And in the night a shaft of fire. + + + + + ENOUGH + + IT is enough for me by day + To walk the same bright earth with him; + Enough that over us by night + The same great roof of stars is dim. + + I have no care to bind the wind + Or set a fetter on the sea-- + It is enough to feel his love + Blow by like music over me. + + + + + ALCHEMY + + I LIFT my heart as spring lifts up + A yellow daisy to the rain; + My heart will be a lovely cup + Altho' it holds but pain. + + For I shall learn from flower and leaf + That color every drop they hold, + To change the lifeless wine of grief + To living gold. + + + + + FEBRUARY + + THEY spoke of him I love + With cruel words and gay; + My lips kept silent guard + On all I could not say. + + I heard, and down the street + The lonely trees in the square + Stood in the winter wind + Patient and bare. + + I heard . . . oh voiceless trees + Under the wind, I knew + The eager terrible spring + Hidden in you. + + + + + MORNING + + I WENT out on an April morning + All alone, for my heart was high, + I was a child of the shining meadow, + I was a sister of the sky. + + There in the windy flood of morning + Longing lifted its weight from me, + Lost as a sob in the midst of cheering, + Swept as a sea-bird out to sea. + + + + + MAY NIGHT + + THE spring is fresh and fearless + And every leaf is new, + The world is brimmed with moonlight, + The lilac brimmed with dew. + + Here in the moving shadows + I catch my breath and sing-- + My heart is fresh and fearless + And over-brimmed with spring. + + + + + DUSK IN JUNE + + EVENING, and all the birds + In a chorus of shimmering sound + Are easing their hearts of joy + For miles around. + + The air is blue and sweet, + The few first stars are white,-- + Oh let me like the birds + Sing before night. + + + + + LOVE-FREE + + I AM free of love as a bird flying south in the autumn, + Swift and intent, asking no joy from another, + Glad to forget all of the passion of April + Ere it was love-free. + + I am free of love, and I listen to music lightly, + But if he returned, if he should look at me deeply, + I should awake, I should awake and remember + I am my lover's. + + + + + SUMMER NIGHT, RIVERSIDE + + IN the wild soft summer darkness + How many and many a night we two together + Sat in the park and watched the Hudson + Wearing her lights like golden spangles + Glinting on black satin. + The rail along the curving pathway + Was low in a happy place to let us cross, + And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom + Sheltered us + While your kisses and the flowers, + Falling, falling, + Tangled my hair. . . . + + The frail white stars moved slowly over the sky. + + And now, far off + In the fragrant darkness + The tree is tremulous again with bloom + For June comes back. + + To-night what girl + When she goes home, + Dreamily before her mirror shakes from her hair + This year's blossoms, clinging in its coils ? + + + + + IN A SUBWAY STATION + + AFTER a year I came again to the place; + The tireless lights and the reverberation, + The angry thunder of trains that burrow the ground, + The hunted, hurrying people were still the same-- + But oh, another man beside me and not you! + Another voice and other eyes in mine! + And suddenly I turned and saw again + The gleaming curve of tracks, the bridge above-- + They were burned deep into my heart before, + The night I watched them to avoid your eyes, + When you were saying, "Oh, look up at me!" + When you were saying, "Will you never love me?" + And when I answered with a lie. Oh then + You dropped your eyes. I felt your utter pain. + I would have died to say the truth to you. + After a year I came again to the place-- + The hunted hurrying people were still the same.... + + + + + AFTER LOVE + + THERE is no magic when we meet, + We speak as other people do, + You work no miracle for me + Nor I for you. + + You were the wind and I the sea-- + There is no splendor any more, + I have grown listless as the pool + Beside the shore. + + But tho' the pool is safe from storm + And from the tide has found surcease, + It grows more bitter than the sea, + For all its peace. + + + + + DOORYARD ROSES + + I HAVE come the selfsame path + To the selfsame door, + Years have left the roses there + Burning as before. + + While I watch them in the wind + Quick the hot tears start-- + Strange so frail a flame outlasts + Fire in the heart. + + + + + A PRAYER + + UNTIL I lose my soul and lie + Blind to the beauty of the earth, + Deaf tho' a lyric wind goes by, + Dumb in a storm of mirth; + + Until my heart is quenched at length + And I have left the land of men, + Oh let me love with all my strength + Careless if I am loved again. + + + + + + + II + + + INDIAN SUMMER + + LYRIC night of the lingering Indian Summer, + Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing, + Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects, + Ceaseless, insistent. + + The grasshopper's horn, and far off, high in the maples + The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence, + Under a moon waning and worn and broken, + Tired with summer. + + Let me remember you, voices of little insects, + Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters, + Let me remember you, soon will the winter be on us, + Snow-hushed and heartless. + + Over my soul murmur your mute benediction + While I gaze, oh fields that rest after harvest, + As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to, + Lest they forget them. + + + + + THE SEA WIND + + I AM a pool in a peaceful place, + I greet the great sky face to face, + I know the stars and the stately moon + And the wind that runs with rippling shoon-- + But why does it always bring to me + The far-off, beautiful sound of the sea? + + The marsh-grass weaves me a wall of green, + But the wind comes whispering in between, + In the dead of night when the sky is deep + The wind comes waking me out of sleep-- + Why does it always bring to me + The far-off, terrible call of the sea? + + + + + THE CLOUD + + I AM a cloud in the heaven's height, + The stars are lit for my delight, + Tireless and changeful, swift and free, + I cast my shadow on hill and sea-- + But why do the pines on the mountain's crest + Call to me always, "Rest, rest"? + + I throw my mantle over the moon + And I blind the sun on his throne at noon, + Nothing can tame me, nothing can bind, + I am a child of the heartless wind-- + But oh the pines on the mountain's crest + Whispering always, "Rest, rest." + + + + + THE POOR HOUSE + + HOPE went by and Peace went by + And would not enter in; + Youth went by and Health went by + And Love that is their kin. + + Those within the house shed tears + On their bitter bread; + Some were old and some were mad, + And some were sick a-bed. + + Gray Death saw the wretched house + And even he passed by-- + "They have never lived," he said, + "They can wait to die." + + + + + NEW YEAR'S DAWN--BROADWAY + + WHEN the horns wear thin + And the noise, like a garment outworn, + Falls from the night, + The tattered and shivering night, + That thinks she is gay; + When the patient silence comes back, + And retires, + And returns, + Rebuffed by a ribald song, + Wounded by vehement cries, + Fleeing again to the stars-- + Ashamed of her sister the night; + Oh, then they steal home, + The blinded, the pitiful ones + With their gew-gaws still in their hands, + Reeling with odorous breath + And thick, coarse words on their tongues. + They get them to bed, somehow, + And sleep the forgiving, + Comes thru the scattering tumult + And closes their eyes. + The stars sink down ashamed + And the dawn awakes, + Like a youth who steals from a brothel, + Dizzy and sick. + + + + + THE STAR + + A WHITE star born in the evening glow + Looked to the round green world below, + And saw a pool in a wooded place + That held like a jewel her mirrored face. + She said to the pool: "Oh, wondrous deep, + I love you, I give you my light to keep. + Oh, more profound than the moving sea + That never has shown myself to me! + Oh, fathomless as the sky is far, + Hold forever your tremulous star!" + + But out of the woods as night grew cool + A brown pig came to the little pool; + It grunted and splashed and waded in + And the deepest place but reached its chin. + The water gurgled with tender glee + And the mud churned up in it turbidly. + + The star grew pale and hid her face + In a bit of floating cloud like lace. + + + + + DOCTORS + + EVERY night I lie awake + And every day I lie abed + And hear the doctors, Pain and Death, + Conferring at my head. + + They speak in scientific tones, + Professional and low-- + One argues for a speedy cure, + The other, sure and slow. + + To one so humble as myself + It should be matter for some pride + To have such noted fellows here, + Conferring at my side. + + + + . + THE INN OF EARTH + + I CAME to the crowded Inn of Earth, + And called for a cup of wine, + But the Host went by with averted eye + From a thirst as keen as mine. + + Then I sat down with weariness + And asked a bit of bread, + But the Host went by with averted eye + And never a word he said. + + While always from the outer night + The waiting souls came in + With stifled cries of sharp surprise + At all the light and din. + + "Then give me a bed to sleep," I said, + "For midnight comes apace"-- + But the Host went by with averted eye + And I never saw his face. + + "Since there is neither food nor rest, + I go where I fared before"-- + But the Host went by with averted eye + And barred the outer door. + + + + + IN THE CARPENTER'S SHOP + + MARY sat in the corner dreaming, + Dim was the room and low, + While in the dusk, the saw went screaming + To and fro. + + Jesus and Joseph toiled together, + Mary was watching them, + Thinking of kings in the wintry weather + At Bethlehem. + + Mary sat in the corner thinking, + Jesus had grown a man; + One by one her hopes were sinking + As the years ran. + + Jesus and Joseph toiled together, + Mary's thoughts were far-- + Angels sang in the wintry weather + Under a star. + + Mary sat in the corner weeping, + Bitter and hot her tears-- + Little faith were the angels keeping + All the years. + + + + + THE CARPENTER'S SON + + THE summer dawn came over-soon, + The earth was like hot iron at noon + In Nazareth; + There fell no rain to ease the heat, + And dusk drew on with tired feet + And stifled breath. + + The shop was low and hot and square, + And fresh-cut wood made sharp the air, + While all day long + The saw went tearing thru the oak + That moaned as tho' the tree's heart broke + Beneath its wrong. + + The narrow street was full of cries, + Of bickering and snarling lies + In many keys-- + The tongues of Egypt and of Rome + And lands beyond the shifting foam + Of windy seas. + + Sometimes a ruler riding fast + Scattered the dark crowds as he passed, + And drove them close + In doorways, drawing broken breath + Lest they be trampled to their death + Where the dust rose. + + There in the gathering night and noise + A group of Galilean boys + Crowding to see + Gray Joseph toiling with his son, + Saw Jesus, when the task was done, + Turn wearily. + + He passed them by with hurried tread + Silently, nor raised his head, + He who looked up + Drinking all beauty from his birth + Out of the heaven and the earth + As from a cup. + + And Mary, who was growing old, + Knew that the pottage would be cold + When he returned; + He hungered only for the night, + And westward, bending sharp and bright, + The thin moon burned. + + He reached the open western gate + Where whining halt and leper wait, + And came at last + To the blue desert, where the deep + Great seas of twilight lay asleep, + Windless and vast. + + With shining eyes the stars awoke, + The dew lay heavy on his cloak, + The world was dim; + And in the stillness he could hear + His secret thoughts draw very near + And call to him. + + Faint voices lifted shrill with pain + And multitudinous as rain; + From all the lands + And all the villages thereof + Men crying for the gift of love + With outstretched hands. + + Voices that called with ceaseless crying, + The broken and the blind, the dying, + And those grown dumb + Beneath oppression, and he heard + Upon their lips a single word, + "Come!" + + Their cries engulfed him like the night, + The moon put out her placid light + And black and low + Nearer the heavy thunder drew, + Hushing the voices . . . yet he knew + That he would go. + + A quick-spun thread of lightning burns, + And for a flash the day returns-- + He only hears + Joseph, an old man bent and white + Toiling alone from morn till night + Thru all the years. + + Swift clouds make all the heavens blind, + A storm is running on the wind-- + He only sees + How Mary will stretch out her hands + Sobbing, who never understands + Voices like these. + + + + + THE MOTHER OF A POET + + SHE is too kind, I think, for mortal things, + Too gentle for the gusty ways of earth; + God gave to her a shy and silver mirth, + And made her soul as clear + And softly singing as an orchard spring's + In sheltered hollows all the sunny year-- + A spring that thru the leaning grass looks up + And holds all heaven in its clarid cup, + Mirror to holy meadows high and blue + With stars like drops of dew. + + I love to think that never tears at night + Have made her eyes less bright; + That all her girlhood thru + Never a cry of love made over-tense + Her voice's innocence; + That in her hands have lain, + Flowers beaten by the rain, + And little birds before they learned to sing + Drowned in the sudden ecstasy of spring. + + I love to think that with a wistful wonder + She held her baby warm against her breast; + That never any fear awoke whereunder + She shuddered at her gift, or trembled lest + Thru the great doors of birth + Here to a windy earth + She lured from heaven a half-unwilling guest. + + She caught and kept his first vague flickering smile, + The faint upleaping of his spirit's fire; + And for a long sweet while + In her was all he asked of earth or heaven-- + But in the end how far, + Past every shaken star, + Should leap at last that arrow-like desire, + His full-grown manhood's keen + Ardor toward the unseen + Dark mystery beyond the Pleiads seven. + And in her heart she heard + His first dim-spoken word-- + She only of them all could understand, + Flushing to feel at last + The silence over-past, + Thrilling as tho' her hand had touched God's hand. + But in the end how many words + Winged on a flight she could not follow, + Farther than skyward lark or swallow, + His lips should free to lands she never knew; + Braver than white sea-faring birds + With a fearless melody, + Flying over a shining sea, + A star-white song between the blue and blue. + + Oh I have seen a lake as clear and fair + As it were molten air, + Lifting a lily upward to the sun. + How should the water know the glowing heart + That ever to the heaven lifts its fire, + A golden and unchangeable desire? + The water only knows + The faint and rosy glows + Of under-petals, opening apart. + Yet in the soul of earth, + Deep in the primal ground, + Its searching roots are wound, + And centuries have struggled toward its birth. + So, in the man who sings, + All of the voiceless horde + From the cold dawn of things + Have their reward; + All in whose pulses ran + Blood that is his at last, + From the first stooping man + Far in the winnowed past. + Out of the tumult of their love and mating + Each one created, seeing life was good-- + Dumb, till at last the song that they were waiting + Breaks like brave April thru a wintry wood. + + + + + RIVERS TO THE SEA + + But what of her whose heart is troubled by it, + The mother who would soothe and set him free, + Fearing the song's storm-shaken ecstasy-- + Oh, as the moon that has no power to quiet + The strong wind-driven sea. + + + + . + + IN MEMORIAM F. O. S. + + You go a long and lovely journey, + For all the stars, like burning dew, + Are luminous and luring footprints + Of souls adventurous as you. + + Oh, if you lived on earth elated, + How is it now that you can run + Free of the weight of flesh and faring + Far past the birthplace of the sun? + + + + + TWILIGHT + + THE stately tragedy of dusk + Drew to its perfect close, + The virginal white evening star + Sank, and the red moon rose. + + + + + SWALLOW FLIGHT + + I LOVE my hour of wind and light, + I love men's faces and their eyes, + I love my spirit's veering flight + Like swallows under evening skies, + + + + + THOUGHTS + + WHEN I can make my thoughts come forth + To walk like ladies up and down, + Each one puts on before the glass + Her most becoming hat and gown. + + But oh, the shy and eager thoughts + That hide and will not get them dressed, + Why is it that they always seem + So much more lovely than the rest? + + + + + TO DICK, ON HIS SIXTH BIRTHDAY + + Tho' I am very old and wise, + And you are neither wise nor old, + When I look far into your eyes, + I know things I was never told: + I know how flame must strain and fret + Prisoned in a mortal net; + How joy with over-eager wings, + Bruises the small heart where he sings; + How too much life, like too much gold, + Is sometimes very hard to hold. . . . + All that is talking--I know + This much is true, six years ago + An angel living near the moon + Walked thru the sky and sang a tune + Plucking stars to make his crown-- + And suddenly two stars fell down, + Two falling arrows made of light. + Six years ago this very night + I saw them fall and wondered why + The angel dropped them from the sky-- + But when I saw your eyes I knew + The angel sent the stars to you. + + + + + TO ROSE + + ROSE, when I remember you, + Little lady, scarcely two, + I am suddenly aware + Of the angels in the air. + All your softly gracious ways + Make an island in my days + Where my thoughts fly back to be + Sheltered from too strong a sea. + All your luminous delight + Shines before me in the night + When I grope for sleep and find + Only shadows in my mind. + + Rose, when I remember you, + White and glowing, pink and new, + With so swift a sense of fun + Altho' life has just begun; + With so sure a pride of place + In your very infant face, + I should like to make a prayer + To the angels in the air: + "If an angel ever brings + Me a baby in her wings, + Please be certain that it grows + Very, very much like Rose." + + + + + THE FOUNTAIN + + On in the deep blue night + The fountain sang alone; + It sang to the drowsy heart + Of the satyr carved in stone. + + The fountain sang and sang + But the satyr never stirred-- + Only the great white moon + In the empty heaven heard. + + The fountain sang and sang + And on the marble rim + The milk-white peacocks slept, + Their dreams were strange and dim. + + Bright dew was on the grass, + And on the ilex dew, + The dreamy milk-white birds + Were all a-glisten too. + + The fountain sang and sang + The things one cannot tell, + The dreaming peacocks stirred + And the gleaming dew-drops fell. + + + + + THE ROSE + + BENEATH my chamber window + Pierrot was singing, singing; + I heard his lute the whole night thru + Until the east was red. + Alas, alas, Pierrot, + I had no rose for flinging + Save one that drank my tears for dew + Before its leaves were dead. + + I found it in the darkness, + I kissed it once and threw it, + The petals scattered over him, + His song was turned to joy; + And he will never know-- + Alas, the one who knew it!-- + The rose was plucked when dusk was dim + Beside a laughing boy. + + + + + DREAMS + + I GAVE my life to another lover, + I gave my love, and all, and all-- + But over a dream the past will hover, + Out of a dream the past will call. + + I tear myself from sleep with a shiver + But on my breast a kiss is hot, + And by my bed the ghostly giver + Is waiting tho' I see him not. + + + + + "I AM NOT YOURS " + + I AM not yours, not lost in you, + Not lost, altho' I long to be + Lost as a candle lit at noon, + Lost as a snow-flake in the sea. + + You love me, and I find you still + A spirit beautiful and bright, + Yet I am I, who long to be + Lost as a light is lost in light. + + Oh plunge me deep in love--put out + My senses, leave me deaf and blind, + Swept by the tempest of your love, + A taper in a rushing wind. + + + + + PIERROT'S SONG + + (For a picture by Dugald Walker) + + LADY, light in the east hangs low, + Draw your veils of dream apart, + Under the casement stands Pierrot + Making a song to ease his heart. + (Yet do not break the song too soon-- + I love to sing in the paling moon.) + + The petals are falling, heavy with dew, + The stars have fainted out of the sky, + Come to me, come, or else I too, + Faint with the weight of love will die. + (She comes--alas, I hoped to make + Another stanza for her sake!) + + + + + NIGHT IN ARIZONA + + THE moon is a charring ember + Dying into the dark; + + Off in the crouching mountains + Coyotes bark. + + The stars are heavy in heaven, + Too great for the sky to hold-- + What if they fell and shattered + The earth with gold? + + No lights are over the mesa, + The wind is hard and wild, + I stand at the darkened window + And cry like a child. + + + + + DUSK IN WAR TIME + + A HALF-HOUR more and you will lean + To gather me close in the old sweet way-- + But oh, to the woman over the sea + Who will come at the close of day? + + A half-hour more and I will hear + The key in the latch and the strong quick tread-- + But oh, the woman over the sea + Waiting at dusk for one who is dead! + + + + + SPRING IN WAR TIME + + I FEEL the Spring far off, far off, + The faint far scent of bud and leaf-- + Oh how can Spring take heart to come + To a world in grief, + Deep grief? + + The sun turns north, the days grow long, + Later the evening star grows bright-- + How can the daylight linger on + For men to fight, + Still fight? + + The grass is waking in the ground, + Soon it will rise and blow in waves-- + How can it have the heart to sway + Over the graves, + New graves? + + Under the boughs where lovers walked + The apple-blooms will shed their breath-- + But what of all the lovers now + Parted by death, + Gray Death? + + + + + WHILE I MAY + + WIND and hail and veering rain, + Driven mist that veils the day, + Soul's distress and body's pain, + I would bear you while I may. + + I would love you if I might, + For so soon my life will be + Buried in a lasting night, + Even pain denied to me. + + + + + DEBT + + WHAT do I owe to you + Who loved me deep and long? + You never gave my spirit wings + Or gave my heart a song. + + But oh, to him I loved + Who loved me not at all, + I owe the little open gate + + That led thru heaven's wall. + + + + + FROM THE NORTH + + THE northern woods are delicately sweet, + The lake is folded softly by the shore, + But I am restless for the subway's roar, + The thunder and the hurrying of feet. + I try to sleep, but still my eyelids beat + Against the image of the tower that bore + Me high aloft, as if thru heaven's door + I watched the world from God's unshaken seat. + I would go back and breathe with quickened sense + The tunnel's strong hot breath of powdered steel; + But at the ferries I should leave the tense + Dark air behind, and I should mount and be + One among many who are thrilled to feel + The first keen sea-breath from the open sea. + + + + + THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK + + THE lightning spun your garment for the night + Of silver filaments with fire shot thru, + A broidery of lamps that lit for you + The steadfast splendor of enduring light. + The moon drifts dimly in the heaven's height, + Watching with wonder how the earth she knew + That lay so long wrapped deep in dark and dew, + Should wear upon her breast a star so white. + The festivals of Babylon were dark + With flaring flambeaux that the wind blew down; + The Saturnalia were a wild boy's lark + With rain-quenched torches dripping thru the town-- + But you have found a god and filched from him + A fire that neither wind nor rain can dim. + + + + + SEA LONGING + + A THOUSAND miles beyond this sun-steeped wall + Somewhere the waves creep cool along the sand, + The ebbing tide forsakes the listless land + With the old murmur, long and musical; + The windy waves mount up and curve and fall, + And round the rocks the foam blows up like snow,-- + Tho' I am inland far, I hear and know, + For I was born the sea's eternal thrall. + I would that I were there and over me + The cold insistence of the tide would roll, + Quenching this burning thing men call the soul,-- + Then with the ebbing I should drift and be + Less than the smallest shell along the shoal, + Less than the sea-gulls calling to the sea. + + + + + THE RIVER + + I CAME from the sunny valleys + And sought for the open sea, + For I thought in its gray expanses + My peace would come to me. + + I came at last to the ocean + And found it wild and black, + And I cried to the windless valleys, + "Be kind and take me back!" + + But the thirsty tide ran inland, + And the salt waves drank of me, + And I who was fresh as the rainfall + Am bitter as the sea. + + + + + LEAVES + + ONE by one, like leaves from a tree, + All my faiths have forsaken me; + But the stars above my head + Burn in white and delicate red, + And beneath my feet the earth + Brings the sturdy grass to birth. + I who was content to be + But a silken-singing tree, + But a rustle of delight + In the wistful heart of night-- + I have lost the leaves that knew + Touch of rain and weight of dew. + Blinded by a leafy crown + I looked neither up nor down-- + But the little leaves that die + Have left me room to see the sky; + Now for the first time I know + Stars above and earth below. + + + + + THE ANSWER + + WHEN I go back to earth + And all my joyous body + Puts off the red and white + That once had been so proud, + If men should pass above + With false and feeble pity, + My dust will find a voice + To answer them aloud: + + "Be still, I am content, + Take back your poor compassion, + Joy was a flame in me + Too steady to destroy; + Lithe as a bending reed + Loving the storm that sways her-- + I found more joy in sorrow + Than you could find in joy." + + + + + + + + III + + + + + + OVER THE ROOFS + + I + + OH chimes set high on the sunny tower + Ring on, ring on unendingly, + Make all the hours a single hour, + For when the dusk begins to flower, + The man I love will come to me! . . . + + But no, go slowly as you will, + I should not bid you hasten so, + For while I wait for love to come, + Some other girl is standing dumb, + Fearing her love will go. + + II + + Oh white steam over the roofs, blow high! + Oh chimes in the tower ring clear and free ! + Oh sun awake in the covered sky, + For the man I love, loves me I . . . + + Oh drifting steam disperse and die, + Oh tower stand shrouded toward the south,-- + Fate heard afar my happy cry, + And laid her finger on my mouth. + + III + + The dusk was blue with blowing mist, + The lights were spangles in a veil, + And from the clamor far below + Floated faint music like a wail. + + It voiced what I shall never speak, + My heart was breaking all night long, + But when the dawn was hard and gray, + My tears distilled into a song. + + IV + + I said, "I have shut my heart + As one shuts an open door, + That Love may starve therein + And trouble me no more." + + But over the roofs there came + The wet new wind of May, + And a tune blew up from the curb + Where the street-pianos play. + + My room was white with the sun + And Love cried out in me, + "I am strong, I will break your heart + Unless you set me free." + + + + + A CRY + + OH, there are eyes that he can see, + And hands to make his hands rejoice, + But to my lover I must be + Only a voice. + + Oh, there are breasts to bear his head, + And lips whereon his lips can lie, + But I must be till I am dead + Only a cry. + + + + + CHANCE + + How many times we must have met + Here on the street as strangers do, + Children of chance we were, who passed + + The door of heaven and never knew. + + + + + IMMORTAL + + So soon my body will have gone + Beyond the sound and sight of men, + And tho' it wakes and suffers now, + Its sleep will be unbroken then; + But oh, my frail immortal soul + That will not sleep forevermore, + A leaf borne onward by the blast, + A wave that never finds the shore. + + + + + AFTER DEATH + + Now while my lips are living + Their words must stay unsaid, + And will my soul remember + To speak when I am dead? + + Yet if my soul remembered + You would not heed it, dear, + For now you must not listen, + And then you could not hear. + + + + + TESTAMENT + + I SAID, "I will take my life + And throw it away; + I who was fire and song + Will turn to clay." + + "I will lie no more in the night + With shaken breath, + I will toss my heart in the air + To be caught by Death." + + But out of the night I heard, + Like the inland sound of the sea, + The hushed and terrible sob + Of all humanity. + + Then I said, "Oh who am I + To scorn God to his face? + I will bow my head and stay + And suffer with my race." + + + + + GIFTS + + I GAVE my first love laughter, + I gave my second tears, + I gave my third love silence + Thru all the years. + + My first love gave me singing, + My second eyes to see, + But oh, it was my third love + Who gave my soul to me. + + + + + + + + IV + + + + + + + FROM THE SEA + + ALL beauty calls you to me, and you seem, + Past twice a thousand miles of shifting sea, + To reach me. You are as the wind I breathe + Here on the ship's sun-smitten topmost deck, + With only light between the heavens and me. + I feel your spirit and I close my eyes, + Knowing the bright hair blowing in the sun, + The eager whisper and the searching eyes. + + Listen, I love you. Do not turn your face + Nor touch me. Only stand and watch awhile + The blue unbroken circle of the sea. + Look far away and let me ease my heart + Of words that beat in it with broken wing. + Look far away, and if I say too much, + Forget that I am speaking. Only watch, + How like a gull that sparkling sinks to rest, + The foam-crest drifts along a happy wave + Toward the bright verge, the boundary of the world. + + I am so weak a thing, praise me for this, + That in some strange way I was strong enough + To keep my love unuttered and to stand + Altho' I longed to kneel to you that night + You looked at me with ever-calling eyes. + Was I not calm? And if you guessed my love + You thought it something delicate and free, + Soft as the sound of fir-trees in the wind, + Fleeting as phosphorescent stars in foam. + Yet in my heart there was a beating storm + Bending my thoughts before it, and I strove + To say too little lest I say too much, + And from my eyes to drive love's happy shame. + Yet when I heard your name the first far time + It seemed like other names to me, and I + Was all unconscious, as a dreaming river + That nears at last its long predestined sea; + And when you spoke to me, I did not know + That to my life's high altar came its priest. + But now I know between my God and me + You stand forever, nearer God than I, + And in your hands with faith and utter joy + I would that I could lay my woman's soul. + + Oh, my love + To whom I cannot come with any gift + Of body or of soul, I pass and go. + But sometimes when you hear blown back to you + My wistful, far-off singing touched with tears, + Know that I sang for you alone to hear, + And that I wondered if the wind would bring + To him who tuned my heart its distant song. + So might a woman who in loneliness + Had borne a child, dreaming of days to come, + Wonder if it would please its father's eyes. + But long before I ever heard your name, + Always the undertone's unchanging note + In all my singing had prefigured you, + Foretold you as a spark foretells a flame. + Yet I was free as an untethered cloud + In the great space between the sky and sea, + And might have blown before the wind of joy + Like a bright banner woven by the sun. + I did not know the longing in the night-- + You who have waked me cannot give me sleep. + All things in all the world can rest, but I, + Even the smooth brief respite of a wave + When it gives up its broken crown of foam, + Even that little rest I may not have. + And yet all quiet loves of friends, all joy + In all the piercing beauty of the world + I would give up--go blind forevermore, + Rather than have God blot from out my soul + Remembrance of your voice that said my name. + + For us no starlight stilled the April fields, + No birds awoke in darkling trees for us, + Yet where we walked the city's street that night + Felt in our feet the singing fire of spring, + And in our path we left a trail of light + Soft as the phosphorescence of the sea + When night submerges in the vessel's wake + A heaven of unborn evanescent stars. + + + + + VIGNETTES OVERSEAS + + I + + Off Gibraltar + + BEYOND the sleepy hills of Spain, + The sun goes down in yellow mist, + The sky is fresh with dewy stars + Above a sea of amethyst. + + Yet in the city of my love + High noon burns all the heavens bare-- + For him the happiness of light, + For me a delicate despair. + + + II + + Off Algiers + + Oh give me neither love nor tears, + Nor dreams that sear the night with fire, + Go lightly on your pilgrimage + Unburdened by desire. + + Forget me for a month, a year, + But, oh, beloved, think of me + When unexpected beauty burns + Like sudden sunlight on the sea. + + + III + + Naples + + Nisida and Prosida are laughing in the light, + Capri is a dewy flower lifting into sight, + Posilipo kneels and looks in the burnished sea, + Naples crowds her million roofs close as close can be; + Round about the mountain's crest a flag of smoke is hung-- + Oh when God made Italy he was gay and young! + + + IV + + Capri + + When beauty grows too great to bear + How shall I ease me of its ache, + For beauty more than bitterness + Makes the heart break. + + Now while I watch the dreaming sea + With isles like flowers against her breast, + Only one voice in all the world + Could give me rest. + + + V + + Night Song at Amalfi + + I asked the heaven of stars + What I should give my love-- + It answered me with silence, + Silence above. + + I asked the darkened sea + Down where the fishers go-- + It answered me with silence, + Silence below. + + Oh, I could give him weeping, + Or I could give him song-- + But how can I give silence + My whole life long? + + + VI + + Ruins of Paestum + + On lowlands where the temples lie + The marsh-grass mingles with the flowers, + Only the little songs of birds + Link the unbroken hours. + + So in the end, above my heart + Once like the city wild and gay, + The slow white stars will pass by night, + The swift brown birds by day. + + + VII + + Rome + + Oh for the rising moon + Over the roofs of Rome, + And swallows in the dusk + Circling a darkened dome! + + Oh for the measured dawns + That pass with folded wings-- + How can I let them go + With unremembered things? + + + VIII + + Florence + + The bells ring over the Anno, + Midnight, the long, long chime; + Here in the quivering darkness + I am afraid of time. + + Oh, gray bells cease your tolling, + Time takes too much from me, + And yet to rock and river + He gives eternity. + + + IX + + Villa Serbelloni, Bellaggio + + The fountain shivers lightly in the rain, + The laurels drip, the fading roses fall, + The marble satyr plays a mournful strain + That leaves the rainy fragrance musical. + + Oh dripping laurel, Phoebus sacred tree, + Would that swift Daphne's lot might come to me, + Then would I still my soul and for an hour + Change to a laurel in the glancing shower. + + + X + + Stresa + + The moon grows out of the hills + A yellow flower, + The lake is a dreamy bride + Who waits her hour. + + Beauty has filled my heart, + It can hold no more, + It is full, as the lake is full, + From shore to shore. + + + XI + + Hamburg + + The day that I come home, + What will you find to say,-- + Words as light as foam + With laughter light as spray? + + Yet say what words you will + The day that I come home; + I shall hear the whole deep ocean + Beating under the foam. + + + + + + V + + SAPPHO + + + + SAPPHO + + I + + MIDNIGHT, and in the darkness not a sound, + So, with hushed breathing, sleeps the autumn night; + Only the white immortal stars shall know, + Here in the house with the low-lintelled door, + How, for the last time, I have lit the lamp. + I think you are not wholly careless now, + Walls that have sheltered me so many an hour, + Bed that has brought me ecstasy and sleep, + Floors that have borne me when a gale of joy + Lifted my soul and made me half a god. + Farewell! Across the threshold many feet + Shall pass, but never Sappho's feet again. + Girls shall come in whom love has made aware + Of all their swaying beauty--they shall sing, + But never Sappho's voice, like golden fire, + Shall seek for heaven thru your echoing rafters. + There shall be swallows bringing back the spring + Over the long blue meadows of the sea, + And south-wind playing on the reeds of rain, + But never Sappho's whisper in the night, + Never her love-cry when the lover comes. + Farewell! I close the door and make it fast. + + The little street lies meek beneath the moon, + Running, as rivers run, to meet the sea. + I too go seaward and shall not return. + Oh garlands on the doorposts that I pass, + Woven of asters and of autumn leaves, + I make a prayer for you: Cypris be kind, + That every lover may be given love. + I shall not hasten lest the paving stones + Should echo with my sandals and awake + Those who are warm beneath the cloak of sleep, + Lest they should rise and see me and should say, + "Whither goes Sappho lonely in the night?" + Whither goes Sappho? Whither all men go, + But they go driven, straining back with fear, + And Sappho goes as lightly as a leaf + Blown from brown autumn forests to the sea. + + Here on the rock Zeus lifted from the waves, + I shall await the waking of the dawn, + Lying beneath the weight of dark as one + Lies breathless, till the lover shall awake. + And with the sun the sea shall cover me-- + I shall be less than the dissolving foam + Murmuring and melting on the ebbing tide; + I shall be less than spindrift, less than shells; + And yet I shall be greater than the gods, + For destiny no more can bow my soul + As rain bows down the watch-fires on the hills. + Yes, if my soul escape it shall aspire + To the white heaven as flame that has its will. + I go not bitterly, not dumb with pain, + Not broken by the ache of love--I go + As one grown tired lies down and hopes to sleep. + Yet they shall say: "It was for Cercolas; + She died because she could not bear her love." + They shall remember how we used to walk + Here on the cliff beneath the oleanders + In the long limpid twilight of the spring, + Looking toward Lemnos, where the amber sky + Was pierced with the faint arrow of a star. + How should they know the wind of a new beauty + Sweeping my soul had winnowed it with song? + I have been glad tho' love should come or go, + Happy as trees that find a wind to sway them, + Happy again when it has left them rest. + Others shall say, "Grave Dica wrought her death. + She would not lift her lips to take a kiss, + Or ever lift her eyes to take a smile. + She was a pool the winter paves with ice + That the wild hunter in the hills must leave + With thirst unslaked in the brief southward sun." + Ah Dica, it is not for thee I go; + And not for Phaon, tho' his ship lifts sail + Here in the windless harbor for the south. + Oh, darkling deities that guard the Nile, + Watch over one whose gods are far away. + Egypt, be kind to him, his eyes are deep-- + Yet they are wrong who say it was for him. + How should they know that Sappho lived and died + Faithful to love, not faithful to the lover, + Never transfused and lost in what she loved, + Never so wholly loving nor at peace. + I asked for something greater than I found, + And every time that love has made me weep, + I have rejoiced that love could be so strong; + For I have stood apart and watched my soul + Caught in the gust of passion, as a bird + With baffled wings against the dusty whirlwind + Struggles and frees itself to find the sky. + It is not for a single god I go; + I have grown weary of the winds of heaven. + I will not be a reed to hold the sound + Of whatsoever breath the gods may blow, + Turning my torment into music for them. + They gave me life; the gift was bountiful, + I lived with the swift singing strength of fire, + Seeking for beauty as a flame for fuel-- + Beauty in all things and in every hour. + The gods have given life--I gave them song; + The debt is paid and now I turn to go. + + The breath of dawn blows the stars out like lamps, + There is a rim of silver on the sea, + As one grown tired who hopes to sleep, I go. + + + II + + Oh Litis, little slave, why will you sleep? + These long Egyptian noons bend down your head + Bowed like the yarrow with a yellow bee. + There, lift your eyes no man has ever kindled, + Dark eyes that wait like faggots for the fire. + See how the temple's solid square of shade + Points north to Lesbos, and the splendid sea + That you have never seen, oh evening-eyed. + Yet have you never wondered what the Nile + Is seeking always, restless and wild with spring + And no less in the winter, seeking still? + How shall I tell you? Can you think of fields + Greater than Gods could till, more blue than night + Sown over with the stars; and delicate + With filmy nets of foam that come and go? + It is more cruel and more compassionate + Than harried earth. It takes with unconcern + And quick forgetting, rapture of the rain + And agony of thunder, the moon's white + Soft-garmented virginity, and then + The insatiable ardor of the sun. + And me it took. But there is one more strong, + Love, that came laughing from the elder seas, + The Cyprian, the mother of the world; + She gave me love who only asked for death-- + I who had seen much sorrow in men's eyes + And in my own too sorrowful a fire. + I was a sister of the stars, and yet + Shaken with pain; sister of birds and yet + The wings that bore my soul were very tired. + I watched the careless spring too many times + Light her green torches in a hungry wind; + Too many times I watched them flare, and then + Fall to forsaken embers in the autumn. + And I was sick of all things--even song. + In the dull autumn dawn I turned to death, + Buried my living body in the sea, + The strong cold sea that takes and does not give-- + But there is one more strong, the Cyprian. + Litis, to wake from sleep and find your eyes + Met in their first fresh upward gaze by love, + Filled with love's happy shame from other eyes, + Dazzled with tenderness and drowned in light + As tho' you looked unthinking at the sun, + Oh Litis, that is joy! But if you came + Not from the sunny shallow pool of sleep, + But from the sea of death, the strangling sea + Of night and nothingness, and waked to find + Love looking down upon you, glad and still, + Strange and yet known forever, that is peace. + So did he lean above me. Not a word + He spoke; I only heard the morning sea + Singing against his happy ship, the keen + And straining joy of wind-awakened sails + And songs of mariners, and in myself + The precious pain of arms that held me fast. + They warmed the cold sea out of all my blood; + I slept, feeling his eyes above my sleep. + There on the ship with wines and olives laden, + Led by the stars to far invisible ports, + Egypt and islands of the inner seas, + Love came to me, and Cercolas was love. + + III ¹ ¹ From " Helen of Troy and Other Poems." + + The twilight's inner flame grows blue and deep, + And in my Lesbos, over leagues of sea, + The temples glimmer moon-wise in the trees. + Twilight has veiled the little flower-face + Here on my heart, but still the night is kind + And leaves her warm sweet weight against my breast. + Am I that Sappho who would run at dusk + Along the surges creeping up the shore + When tides came in to ease the hungry beach, + And running, running till the night was black, + Would fall forespent upon the chilly sand + And quiver with the winds from off the sea? + Ah quietly the shingle waits the tides + Whose waves are stinging kisses, but to me + Love brought no peace, nor darkness any rest. + I crept and touched the foam with fevered hands + And cried to Love, from whom the sea is sweet, + From whom the sea is bitterer than death. + Ah, Aphrodite, if I sing no more + To thee, God's daughter, powerful as God, + It is that thou hast made my life too sweet + To hold the added sweetness of a song. + There is a quiet at the heart of love, + And I have pierced the pain and come to peace + I hold my peace, my Cleïs, on my heart; + And softer than a little wild bird's wing + Are kisses that she pours upon my mouth. + Ah never any more when spring like fire + Will flicker in the newly opened leaves, + Shall I steal forth to seek for solitude + Beyond the lure of light Alcaeus' lyre, + Beyond the sob that stilled Erinna's voice. + Ah, never with a throat that aches with song, + Beneath the white uncaring sky of spring, + Shall I go forth to hide awhile from Love + The quiver and the crying of my heart. + Still I remember how I strove to flee + The love-note of the birds, and bowed my head + To hurry faster, but upon the ground + I saw two wingèd shadows side by side, + And all the world's spring passion stifled me. + Ah, Love there is no fleeing from thy might, + No lonely place where thou hast never trod, + No desert thou hast left uncarpeted + With flowers that spring beneath thy perfect feet. + In many guises didst thou come to me; + I saw thee by the maidens while they danced, + Phaon allured me with a look of thine, + In Anactoria I knew thy grace, + I looked at Cercolas and saw thine eyes; + But never wholly, soul and body mine, + Didst thou bid any love me as I loved. + Now have I found the peace that fled from me; + Close, close against my heart I hold my world. + Ah, Love that made my life a Iyric cry, + Ah, Love that tuned my lips to Iyres of thine, + I taught the world thy music, now alone + I sing for one who falls asleep to hear. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rivers to the Sea, by Sara Teasdale + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RIVERS TO THE SEA *** + +***** This file should be named 596.txt or 596.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/5/9/596/ + +Produced by Judith Boss + +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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