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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dark of the Moon, by Sara Teasdale
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Dark of the Moon
-
-Author: Sara Teasdale
-
-Release Date: January 24, 2023 [eBook #69866]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Tim Lindell, Charlie Howard, and the Online Distributed
- Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
- produced from images generously made available by The
- Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DARK OF THE MOON ***
-
-
-
-
-
- DARK
- OF
- THE
- MOON
-
-
-
-
-_BOOKS BY SARA TEASDALE_
-
-
- SONNETS TO DUSE (out of print)
- HELEN OF TROY AND OTHER POEMS
- RIVERS TO THE SEA
- LOVE SONGS
- FLAME AND SHADOW
-
-
-_ANTHOLOGIES_:
-
- THE ANSWERING VOICE: ONE HUNDRED LOVE LYRICS BY WOMEN
- RAINBOW GOLD: POEMS OLD AND NEW, SELECTED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS
-
-
-
-
- DARK OF THE MOON
-
- BY
- SARA TEASDALE
-
-
- NEW YORK
- THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
- 1926
-
-
-
-
- _Copyright, 1921, by Harper Brothers, Charles
- Scribner’s Sons, The Century Company, Harcourt
- Brace and Company, George H. Doran Company, The
- New Republic, Inc., and The Yale Publishing
- Association._
-
- _Copyright, 1922, by The Century Company, Harcourt
- Brace and Company, Vanity Fair Publishing
- Company, Inc., and George H. Doran Company._
-
- _Copyright, 1923, by Charles Scribner’s Sons, The
- Century Company, The New Republic, Inc., Gene
- Derwood and The Atlantic Monthly Company._
-
- _Copyright, 1924, by The Dial Publishing Company,
- Inc., The Century Company, George H. Doran Co.,
- and Harriet Monroe._
-
- _Copyright, 1925, by Harcourt Brace and Company, and
- The Yale Publishing Association._
-
- _Copyright, 1926, by The Atlantic Monthly Company,
- The Yale Publishing Association, The New
- Republic, Inc., The Saturday Review Co., Inc.,
- Charles Scribner’s Sons, and The New York
- Herald-Tribune, Inc._
-
-
- COPYRIGHT, 1926,
- BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
-
-
-
-
- _to_ E.
-
-
-
-
- _Thanks are due to the editors of Scribner’s
- Magazine, The New Republic, The Yale Review,
- Poetry, The Dial, The Atlantic Monthly, The
- London Mercury and other publications for their
- permission to reprint certain of the following
- poems._
-
- _For permission to set any of the poems to
- music, application should be made to the
- author._
-
-
-
-
-_Contents_
-
-
- I
-
- _THERE WILL BE STARS_ PAGE
- ON THE SUSSEX DOWNS 15
-
- AUGUST NIGHT 16
-
- TWO MINDS 17
-
- WORDS FOR AN OLD AIR 18
-
- MOUNTAIN WATER 19
-
- AT TINTAGIL 20
-
- “THERE WILL BE STARS” 21
-
-
- II
-
- _PICTURES OF AUTUMN_
- AUTUMN 25
-
- SEPTEMBER DAY 26
-
- FONTAINEBLEAU 27
-
- LATE OCTOBER 28
-
-
- III
-
- _SAND DRIFT_
- “BEAUTIFUL, PROUD SEA” 31
-
- LAND’S END 32
-
- SAND DRIFT 33
-
- BLUE STARGRASS 34
-
- SEPTEMBER NIGHT 35
-
- LOW TIDE 36
-
-
- IV
-
- _PORTRAITS_
- EFFIGY OF A NUN 39
-
- THOSE WHO LOVE 41
-
- EPITAPH 42
-
- APPRAISAL 43
-
- THE WISE WOMAN 44
-
- “SHE WHO COULD BIND YOU” 45
-
- “SO THIS WAS ALL” 46
-
-
- V
-
- _MIDSUMMER NIGHTS_
- TWILIGHT 49
-
- FULL MOON 50
-
- THE FOUNTAIN 51
-
- CLEAR EVENING 52
-
- NOT BY THE SEA 53
-
- MIDSUMMER NIGHT 54
-
-
- VI
-
- _THE CRYSTAL GAZER_
- THE CRYSTAL GAZER 57
-
- THE SOLITARY 58
-
- DAY’S ENDING 59
-
- A REPLY 60
-
- LEISURE 61
-
- “I SHALL LIVE TO BE OLD” 62
-
- WISDOM 63
-
- THE OLD ENEMY 64
-
-
- VII
-
- _BERKSHIRE NOTES_
- WINTER SUN 67
-
- A DECEMBER DAY 68
-
- FEBRUARY TWILIGHT 69
-
- “I HAVE SEEN THE SPRING” 70
-
- WIND ELEGY 71
-
- IN THE WOOD 72
-
- AUTUMN DUSK 73
-
-
- VIII
-
- _ARCTURUS IN AUTUMN_
- ARCTURUS IN AUTUMN 77
-
- “I COULD SNATCH A DAY” 78
-
- AN END 79
-
- FOREKNOWN 80
-
- WINTER 81
-
- WINTER NIGHT SONG 82
-
- NEVER AGAIN 83
-
- THE TUNE 84
-
-
- IX
-
- _THE FLIGHT_
- THE BELOVED 87
-
- “WHEN I AM NOT WITH YOU” 88
-
- DEDICATION 89
-
- ON A MARCH DAY 90
-
- LET IT BE YOU 91
-
- THE FLIGHT 92
-
-
-
-
- I
-
- THERE
- WILL
- BE
- STARS
-
-
-
-
-_On the Sussex Downs_
-
-
- Over the downs there were birds flying,
- Far off glittered the sea,
- And toward the north the weald of Sussex
- Lay like a kingdom under me.
-
- I was happier than the larks
- That nest on the downs and sing to the sky,
- Over the downs the birds flying
- Were not so happy as I.
-
- It was not you, though you were near,
- Though you were good to hear and see,
- It was not earth, it was not heaven
- It was myself that sang in me.
-
-
-
-
-_August Night_
-
-
- On a midsummer night, on a night that was eerie with stars,
- In a wood too deep for a single star to look through,
- You led down a path whose turnings you knew in the darkness,
- But the scent of the dew-dripping cedars was all that I knew.
-
- I drank of the darkness, I was fed with the honey of fragrance,
- I was glad of my life, the drawing of breath was sweet;
- I heard your voice, you said, “Look down, see the glow-worm!”
- It was there before me, a small star white at my feet.
-
- We watched while it brightened as though it were breathed on and
- burning,
- This tiny creature moving over earth’s floor--
- “‘_L’amor che move il sole e l’altre stelle_,’”
- You said, and no more.
-
-
-
-
-_Two Minds_
-
-
- Your mind and mine are such great lovers they
- Have freed themselves from cautious human clay,
- And on wild clouds of thought, naked together
- They ride above us in extreme delight;
- We see them, we look up with a lone envy
- And watch them in their zone of crystal weather
- That changes not for winter or the night.
-
-
-
-
-_Words for An Old Air_
-
-
- Your heart is bound tightly, let
- Beauty beware,
- It is not hers to set
- Free from the snare.
-
- Tell her a bleeding hand
- Bound it and tied it,
- Tell her the knot will stand
- Though she deride it;
-
- One who withheld so long
- All that you yearned to take,
- Has made a snare too strong
- For Beauty’s self to break.
-
-
-
-
-_Mountain Water_
-
-
- You have taken a drink from a wild fountain
- Early in the year;
- There is nowhere to go from the top of a mountain
- But down, my dear;
- And the springs that flow on the floor of the valley
- Will never seem fresh or clear
- For thinking of the glitter of the mountain water
- In the feathery green of the year.
-
-
-
-
-_At Tintagil_
-
-
- Iseult, Iseult, by the long waterways
- Watching the wintry moon, white as a flower,
- I have remembered how once in Tintagil
- You heard the tread of Time hour after hour.
-
- By casements hung with night, while all your women slept
- You turned toward Brittany, awake, alone,
- In the high chamber hushed, save where the candle dripped
- With the slow patient sound of blood on stone.
-
- The ache of empty arms was an old tale to you,
- And all the tragic tunes that love can play,
- Yet with no woman born would you have changed your lot,
- Though there were greater queens who had been gay.
-
-
-
-
-“_There Will Be Stars_”
-
-
- There will be stars over the place forever;
- Though the house we loved and the street we loved are lost,
- Every time the earth circles her orbit
- On the night the autumn equinox is crossed,
- Two stars we knew, poised on the peak of midnight
- Will reach their zenith; stillness will be deep;
- There will be stars over the place forever,
- There will be stars forever, while we sleep.
-
-
-
-
- II
-
- PICTURES
- OF
- AUTUMN
-
-
-
-
-_Autumn_
-
-(Parc Monceau)
-
-
- I shall remember only these leaves falling
- Small and incessant in the still air,
- Yellow leaves on the dark green water resting
- And the marble Venus there--
- Is she pointing to her breasts or trying to hide them?
- There is no god to care.
-
- The colonnade curves close to the leaf-strewn water
- And its reflection seems
- Lost in the mass of leaves and unavailing
- As a dream lost among dreams;
- The colonnade curves close to the leaf-strewn water
- A dream lost among dreams.
-
-
-
-
-_September Day_
-
-(Pont de Neuilly)
-
-
- The Seine flows out of the mist
- And into the mist again;
- The trees lean over the water,
- The small leaves fall like rain.
-
- The leaves fall patiently,
- Nothing remembers or grieves;
- The river takes to the sea
- The yellow drift of the leaves.
-
- Milky and cold is the air,
- The leaves float with the stream,
- The river comes out of a sleep
- And goes away in a dream.
-
-
-
-
-_Fontainebleau_
-
-
- Interminable palaces front on the green parterres,
- And ghosts of ladies lovely and immoral
- Glide down the gilded stairs,
- The high cold corridors are clicking with the heel taps
- That long ago were theirs.
-
- But in the sunshine, in the vague autumn sunshine,
- The geometric gardens are desolately gay;
- The crimson and scarlet and rose-red dahlias
- Are painted like the ladies who used to pass this way
- With a ringletted monarch, a Henry or a Louis
- On a lost October day.
-
- The aisles of the garden lead into the forest,
- The aisles lead into autumn, a damp wind grieves,
- Ghostly kings are hunting, the boar breaks cover,
- But the sounds of horse and horn are hushed in falling leaves,
- Four centuries of autumns, four centuries of leaves.
-
-
-
-
-_Late October_
-
-(Bois de Boulogne)
-
-
- Listen, the damp leaves on the walks are blowing
- With a ghost of sound;
- Is it a fog or is it a rain dripping
- From the low trees to the ground?
-
- If I had gone before, I could have remembered
- Lilacs and green after-noons of May;
- I chose to wait, I chose to hear from autumn
- Whatever she has to say.
-
-
-
-
- III
-
- SAND
- DRIFT
-
-
-
-
-“_Beautiful, Proud Sea_”
-
-
- Careless forever, beautiful proud sea,
- You laugh in happy thunder all alone,
- You fold upon yourself, you dance your dance
- Impartially on drift-weed, sand or stone.
-
- You make us believe that we can outlive death,
- You make us for an instant, for your sake,
- Burn, like stretched silver of a wave,
- Not breaking, but about to break.
-
-
-
-
-_Land’s End_
-
-
- The shores of the world are ours, the solitary
- Beaches that bear no fruit, nor any flowers,
- Only the harsh sea-grass that the wind harries
- Hours on unbroken hours.
-
- No one will envy us these empty reaches
- At the world’s end, and none will care that we
- Leave our lost footprints where the sand forever
- Takes the unchanging passion of the sea.
-
-
-
-
-_Sand Drift_
-
-
- I thought I should not walk these dunes again,
- Nor feel the sting of this wind-bitten sand,
- Where the coarse grasses always blow one way,
- Bent, as my thoughts are, by an unseen hand.
-
- I have returned; where the last wave rushed up
- The wet sand is a mirror for the sky
- A bright blue instant, and along its sheen
- The nimble sandpipers run twinkling by.
-
- Nothing has changed; with the same hollow thunder
- The waves die in their everlasting snow--
- Only the place we sat is drifted over,
- Lost in the blowing sand, long, long ago.
-
-
-
-
-_Blue Stargrass_
-
-
- If we took the old path
- In the old field
- The same gate would stand there
- That will never yield.
-
- Where the sun warmed us
- With a cloak made of gold,
- The rain would be falling
- And the wind would be cold;
-
- And we would stop to search
- In the wind and the rain,
- But we would not find the stargrass
- By the path again.
-
-
-
-
-_September Night_
-
-
- We walked in the dew, in the drowsy starlight
- To the sleepless, sleepy sound
- Of insects singing in the low sea-meadows
- For miles and miles around;
- With a wheel and a whirr the resistless rhythm
- Trembled incessantly;
- Antares was red in the sky before us,
- And behind us, the blackness of the sea.
-
-
-
-
-_Low Tide_
-
-
- The birds are gathering over the dunes,
- Swerving and wheeling in shifting flight,
- A thousand wings sweep darkly by
- Over the dunes and out of sight.
-
- Why did you bring me down to the sea
- With the gathering birds and the fish-hawk flying,
- The tide is low and the wind is hard,
- Nothing is left but the old year dying.
-
- I wish I were one of the gathering birds,
- Two sharp black wings would be good for me--
- When nothing is left but the old year dying,
- Why did you bring me down to the sea?
-
-
-
-
-IV
-
-PORTRAITS
-
-
-
-
-_Effigy of a Nun_
-
-(Sixteenth Century)
-
-
- Infinite gentleness, infinite irony
- Are in this face with fast-sealed eyes,
- And round this mouth that learned in loneliness
- How useless their wisdom is to the wise.
-
- In her nun’s habit carved, patiently, lovingly,
- By one who knew the ways of womankind,
- This woman’s face still keeps, in its cold wistful calm,
- All of the subtle pride of her mind.
-
- These long patrician hands, clasping the crucifix,
- Show she had weighed the world, her will was set;
- These pale curved lips of hers, holding their hidden smile,
- Once having made their choice, knew no regret.
-
- She was of those who hoard their own thoughts carefully,
- Feeling them far too dear to give away,
- Content to look at life with the high, insolent
- Air of an audience watching a play.
-
- If she was curious, if she was passionate
- She must have told herself that love was great,
- But that the lacking it might be as great a thing
- If she held fast to it, challenging fate.
-
- She who so loved herself and her own warring thoughts,
- Watching their humorous, tragic rebound,
- In her thick habit’s fold, sleeping, sleeping,
- Is she amused at dreams she has found?
-
- Infinite tenderness, infinite irony
- Are hidden forever in her closed eyes,
- Who must have learned too well in her long loneliness
- How empty wisdom is, even to the wise.
-
-
-
-
-_Those Who Love_
-
-
- Those who love the most,
- Do not talk of their love,
- Francesca, Guinevere,
- Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,
- In the fragrant gardens of heaven
- Are silent, or speak if at all
- Of fragile, inconsequent things.
-
- And a woman I used to know
- Who loved one man from her youth,
- Against the strength of the fates
- Fighting in somber pride,
- Never spoke of this thing,
- But hearing his name by chance,
- A light would pass over her face.
-
-
-
-
-_Epitaph_
-
-
- Serene descent, as a red leaf’s descending
- When there is neither wind nor noise of rain,
- But only autumn air and the unending
- Drawing of all things to the earth again:
-
- So be it; let the snow sift deep and cover
- All that was drunken once with light and air;
- The earth will not regret her tireless lover,
- Nor he awake to know she does not care.
-
-
-
-
-_Appraisal_
-
-
- Never think she loves him wholly,
- Never believe her love is blind,
- All his faults are locked securely
- In a closet of her mind;
- All his indecisions folded
- Like old flags that time has faded,
- Limp and streaked with rain,
- And his cautiousness like garments
- Frayed and thin, with many a stain--
- Let them be, oh let them be,
- There is treasure to outweigh them,
- His proud will that sharply stirred,
- Climbs as surely as the tide,
- Senses strained too taut to sleep,
- Gentleness to beast and bird,
- Humor flickering hushed and wide
- As the moon on moving water,
- And a tenderness too deep
- To be gathered in a word.
-
-
-
-
-_The Wise Woman_
-
-
- She must be rich who can forego
- An hour so jewelled with delight,
- She must have treasuries of joy
- That she can draw on day and night,
- She must be very sure of heaven--
- Or is it only that she feels
- How much more safe it is to lack
- A thing that time so often steals.
-
-
-
-
-“_She Who Could Bind You_”
-
-
- She who could bind you
- Could bind fire to a wall;
- She who could hold you
- Could hold a waterfall;
- She who could keep you
- Could keep the wind from blowing
- On a warm spring night
- With a low moon glowing.
-
-
-
-
-“_So This Was All_”
-
-
- So this was all there was to the great play
- She came so far to act in, this was all--
- Except the short last scene and the slow fall
- Of the final curtain, that might catch half-way,
- As final curtains do, and leave the grey
- Lorn end of things too long exposed. The hall
- Clapped faintly, and she took her curtain call,
- Knowing how little she had left to say.
- And in the pause before the last act started,
- Slowly unpinning the roses she had worn,
- She reconsidered lines that had been said,
- And found them hardly worthy the high-hearted
- Ardor that she had brought, nor the bright, torn,
- Roses that shattered round her, dripping red.
-
-
-
-
- V
-
- MIDSUMMER
- NIGHTS
-
-
-
-
-_Twilight_
-
-(Nahant)
-
-
- There was an evening when the sky was clear,
- Ineffably translucent in its blue;
- The tide was falling and the sea withdrew
- In hushed and happy music from the sheer
- Shadowy granite of the cliffs; and fear
- Of what life may be, and what death can do,
- Fell from us like steel armor, and we knew
- The wisdom of the Law that holds us here.
- It was as though we saw the Secret Will,
- It was as though we floated and were free;
- In the south-west a planet shone serenely,
- And the high moon, most reticent and queenly,
- Seeing the earth had darkened and grown still,
- Misted with light the meadows of the sea.
-
-
-
-
-_Full Moon_
-
-(Santa Barbara)
-
-
- I listened, there was not a sound to hear
- In the great rain of moonlight pouring down,
- The eucalyptus trees were carved in silver,
- And a light mist of silver lulled the town.
-
- I saw far off the grey Pacific bearing
- A broad white disk of flame,
- And on the garden-walk a snail beside me
- Tracing in crystal the slow way he came.
-
-
-
-
-_The Fountain_
-
-
- Fountain, fountain, what do you say
- Singing at night alone?
- “It is enough to rise and fall
- Here in my basin of stone.”
-
- But are you content as you seem to be
- So near the freedom and rush of the sea?
- “I have listened all night to its laboring sound,
- It heaves and sags, as the moon runs round;
- Ocean and fountain, shadow and tree,
- Nothing escapes, nothing is free.”
-
-
-
-
-_Clear Evening_
-
-
- The crescent moon is large enough to linger
- A little while after the twilight goes,
- This moist midsummer night the garden perfumes
- Are earth and apple, dewy pine and rose.
-
- Over my head four new-cut stars are glinting
- And the inevitable night draws on;
- I am alone, the old terror takes me,
- Evenings will come like this when I am gone;
-
- Evenings on evenings, years on years forever--
- Be taut, my spirit, close upon and keep
- The scent, the brooding chill, the gliding fire-fly,
- A poem learned before I fall asleep.
-
-
-
-
-_Not by the Sea_
-
-
- Not by the sea, but somewhere in the hills,
- Not by the sea, but in the uplands surely
- There must be rest where a dim pool demurely
- Watches all night the stern slow-moving skies;
-
- Not by the sea, that never was appeased,
- Not by the sea, whose immemorial longing
- Shames the tired earth where even longing dies,
- Not by the sea that bore Iseult and Helen,
- But in a dark green hollow of the hills
- There must be sleep, even for sleepless eyes.
-
-
-
-
-_Midsummer Night_
-
-
- Midsummer night without a moon, but the stars
- In a serene bright multitude were there,
- Even the shyest ones, even the faint motes shining
- Low in the north, under the Little Bear.
-
- When I have said, “This tragic farce I play in
- Has neither dignity, delight nor end,”
- The holy night draws all its stars around me,
- I am ashamed, I have betrayed my Friend.
-
-
-
-
- VI
-
- THE
- CRYSTAL
- GAZER
-
-
-
-
-_The Crystal Gazer_
-
-
- I shall gather myself into myself again,
- I shall take my scattered selves and make them one,
- Fusing them into a polished crystal ball
- Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
-
- I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent,
- Watching the future come and the present go,
- And the little shifting pictures of people rushing
- In restless self-importance to and fro.
-
-
-
-
-_The Solitary_
-
-
- My heart has grown rich with the passing of years,
- I have less need now than when I was young
- To share myself with every comer
- Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.
-
- It is one to me that they come or go
- If I have myself and the drive of my will,
- And strength to climb on a summer night
- And watch the stars swarm over the hill.
-
- Let them think I love them more than I do,
- Let them think I care, though I go alone;
- If it lifts their pride, what is it to me
- Who am self-complete as a flower or a stone.
-
-
-
-
-_Day’s Ending_
-
-(Tucson)
-
-
- Aloof as aged kings,
- Wearing like them the purple,
- The mountains ring the mesa
- Crowned with a dusky light;
- Many a time I watched
- That coming-on of darkness
- Till stars burned through the heavens
- Intolerably bright.
-
- It was not long I lived there
- But I became a woman
- Under those vehement stars.
- For it was there I heard
- For the first time my spirit
- Forging an iron rule for me,
- As though with slow cold hammers
- Beating out word by word:
-
- “Only yourself can heal you,
- Only yourself can lead you,
- The road is heavy going
- And ends where no man knows;
- Take love when love is given,
- But never think to find it
- A sure escape from sorrow
- Or a complete repose.”
-
-
-
-
-_A Reply_
-
-
- Four people knew the very me,
- Four is enough, so let it be;
- For the rest I make no chart,
- There are no highroads to my heart;
- The gates are locked, they will not stir
- For any ardent traveller.
- I have not been misunderstood,
- And on the whole, I think life good--
- So waste no sympathy on me
- Or any well-meant gallantry;
- I have enough to do to muse
- On memories I would not lose.
-
-
-
-
-_Leisure_
-
-
- If I should make no poems any more
- There would be rest at least, so let it be;
- Time to read books in other tongues and listen
- To the long mellow thunder of the sea.
-
- The year will turn for me, I shall delight in
- All animals, and some of my own kind,
- Sharing with no one but myself the frosty
- And half ironic musings of my mind.
-
-
-
-
-“_I Shall Live to be Old_”
-
-
- I shall live to be old, who feared I should die young,
- I shall live to be old,
- I shall cling to life as the leaves to the creaking oak
- In the rustle of falling snow and the cold.
-
- The other trees let loose their leaves on the air
- In their russet and red,
- I have lived long enough to wonder which is the best,
- And to envy sometimes the way of the early dead.
-
-
-
-
-_Wisdom_
-
-
- It was a night of early spring,
- The winter-sleep was scarcely broken;
- Around us shadows and the wind
- Listened for what was never spoken.
-
- Though half a score of years are gone,
- Spring comes as sharply now as then--
- But if we had it all to do
- It would be done the same again.
-
- It was a spring that never came,
- But we have lived enough to know
- What we have never had, remains;
- It is the things we have that go.
-
-
-
-
-_The Old Enemy_
-
-
- Rebellion against death, the old rebellion
- Is over; I have nothing left to fight;
- Battles have always had their meed of music
- But peace is quiet as a windless night.
-
- Therefore I make no songs--I have grown certain
- Save when he comes too late, death is a friend,
- A shepherd leading home his flock serenely
- Under the planet at the evening’s end.
-
-
-
-
- VII
-
- BERKSHIRE
- NOTES
-
-
-
-
-_Winter Sun_
-
-(Lenox)
-
-
- There was a bush with scarlet berries
- And there were hemlocks heaped with snow;
- With a sound like surf on long sea-beaches
- They took the wind and let it go.
-
- The hills were shining in their samite,
- Fold after fold they flowed away--
- “Let come what may,” your eyes were saying,
- “At least we two have had to-day.”
-
-
-
-
-_A December Day_
-
-
- Dawn turned on her purple pillow
- And late, late came the winter day,
- Snow was curved to the boughs of the willow,
- The sunless world was white and grey.
-
- At noon we heard a blue-jay scolding,
- At five the last thin light was lost
- From snow-banked windows faintly holding
- The feathery filigree of frost.
-
-
-
-
-_February Twilight_
-
-
- I stood beside a hill
- Smooth with new-laid snow,
- A single star looked out
- From the cold evening glow.
-
- There was no other creature
- That saw what I could see--
- I stood and watched the evening star
- As long as it watched me.
-
-
-
-
-“_I Have Seen the Spring_”
-
-
- Nothing is new, I have seen the spring too often;
- There have been other plum-trees white as this one
- Like a silvery cloud tethered beside the road,
- I have been waked from sleep too many times
- By birds at dawn boasting their love is beautiful.
- The grass-blades gleam in the wind, nothing is changed.
- Nothing is lost, it is all as it used to be,
- Unopened lilacs are still as deep a purple,
- The boughs of the elm are dancing still in a veil of tiny leaves,
- Nothing is lost but a few years from my life.
-
-
-
-
-_Wind Elegy_
-
-(W. E. W.)
-
-
- Only the wind knows he is gone,
- Only the wind grieves,
- The sun shines, the fields are sown,
- Sparrows mate in the eaves;
-
- But I heard the wind in the pines he planted
- And the hemlocks overhead,
- “His acres wake, for the year turns,
- But he is asleep,” it said.
-
-
-
-
-_In the Wood_
-
-
- I heard the water-fall rejoice
- Singing like a choir,
- I saw the sun flash out of it
- Azure and amber fire.
-
- The earth was like an open flower
- Enamelled and arrayed,
- The path I took to find its heart
- Fluttered with sun and shade.
-
- And while earth lured me, gently, gently,
- Happy and all alone,
- Suddenly a heavy snake
- Reared black upon a stone.
-
-
-
-
-_Autumn Dusk_
-
-
- I saw above a sea of hills
- A solitary planet shine,
- And there was no one near or far
- To keep the world from being mine.
-
-
-
-
- VIII
-
- ARCTURUS
- IN
- AUTUMN
-
-
-
-
-_Arcturus in Autumn_
-
-
- When, in the gold October dusk, I saw you near to setting,
- Arcturus, bringer of spring,
- Lord of the summer nights, leaving us now in autumn,
- Having no pity on our withering;
-
- Oh then I knew at last that my own autumn was upon me,
- I felt it in my blood,
- Restless as dwindling streams that still remember
- The music of their flood.
-
- There in the thickening dark a wind-bent tree above me
- Loosed its last leaves in flight--
- I saw you sink and vanish, pitiless Arcturus,
- You will not stay to share our lengthening night.
-
-
-
-
-“_I Could Snatch a Day_”
-
-
- I could snatch a day out of the late autumn
- And set it trembling like forgotten springs,
- There would be sharp blue skies with new leaves shining
- And flying shadows cast by flying wings.
-
- I could take the heavy wheel of the world and break it,
- But we sit brooding while the ashes fall,
- Cowering over an old fire that dwindles,
- Waiting for nothing at all.
-
-
-
-
-_An End_
-
-
- I have no heart for any other joy,
- The drenched September day turns to depart,
- And I have said good-bye to what I love;
- With my own will I vanquished my own heart.
-
- On the long wind I hear the winter coming,
- The window panes are cold and blind with rain;
- With my own will I turned the summer from me
- And summer will not come to me again.
-
-
-
-
-_Foreknown_
-
-
- They brought me with a secret glee
- The news I knew before they spoke,
- And though they hoped to see me riven,
- They found me light as dry leaves driven
- Before the storm that splits an oak.
-
- For I had learned from many an autumn
- The way a leaf can drift and go,
- Lightly, lightly, almost gay
- Taking the unreturning way
- To mix with winter and the snow.
-
-
-
-
-_Winter_
-
-
- I shall have winter now and lessening days,
- Lit by a smoky sun with slanting rays,
- And after falling leaves, the first determined frost.
- The colors of the world will all be lost.
- So be it; the faint buzzing of the snow
- Will fill the empty boughs,
- And after sleet storms I shall wake to see
- A glittering glassy plume of every tree.
- Nothing shall tempt me from my fire-lit house,
- And I shall find at night a friendly ember
- And make my life of what I can remember.
-
-
-
-
-_Winter Night Song_
-
-
- Will you come as of old with singing,
- And shall I hear as of old?
- Shall I rush to open the window
- In spite of the arrowy cold?
-
- Ah no, my dear, ah no,
- I shall sit by the fire reading,
- Though you sing half the night in the snow
- I shall not be heeding.
-
- Though your voice remembers the forest,
- The warm green light and the birds,
- Though you gather the sea in your singing
- And pour its sound into words,
-
- Even so, my dear, even so,
- I shall not heed you at all;
- Though your shoulders are white with snow,
- Though you strain your voice to a call,
- I shall drowse and the fire will drowse,
- The draught will be cold on the floor,
- The clock running down,
- Snow banking the door.
-
-
-
-
-_Never Again_
-
-
- Never again the music blown as brightly
- Off of my heart as foam blown off a wave;
- Never again the melody that lightly
- Caressed my grief and healed the wounds it gave.
-
- Never again--I hear my dark thoughts clashing
- Sullen and blind as waves that beat a wall--
- Age that is coming, summer that is going,
- All I have lost or never found at all.
-
-
-
-
-_The Tune_
-
-
- I know a certain tune that my life plays;
- Over and over I have heard it start
- With all the wavering loveliness of viols
- And gain in swiftness like a runner’s heart.
-
- It climbs and climbs; I watch it sway in climbing
- High over time, high even over doubt,
- It has all heaven to itself--it pauses
- And faltering blindly down the air, goes out.
-
-
-
-
- IX
-
- THE
- FLIGHT
-
-
-
-
-_The Beloved_
-
-
- It is enough of honor for one lifetime
- To have known you better than the rest have known,
- The shadows and the colors of your voice,
- Your will, immutable and still as stone.
-
- The shy heart, so lonely and so gay,
- The sad laughter and the pride of pride,
- The tenderness, the depth of tenderness
- Rich as the earth, and wide as heaven is wide.
-
-
-
-
-“_When I Am Not With You_”
-
-
- When I am not with you
- I am alone,
- For there is no one else
- And there is nothing
- That comforts me but you.
- When you are gone
- Suddenly I am sick,
- Blackness is round me,
- There is nothing left.
- I have tried many things,
- Music and cities,
- Stars in their constellations
- And the sea,
- But there is nothing
- That comforts me but you;
- And my poor pride bows down
- Like grass in a rain-storm
- Drenched with my longing.
- The night is unbearable,
- Oh let me go to you
- For there is no one,
- There is nothing
- To comfort me but you.
-
-
-
-
-_Dedication_
-
-
- At least I have loved you;
- Though much went wrong,
- This was good,
- This was strong.
-
- Unshaken
- In spite of the going of years,
- Too sure to retract,
- Too proud for tears.
-
- Let my love be the pillow
- Under your head,
- On your lips like a song,
- To your hunger, bread.
-
-
-
-
-_On a March Day_
-
-
- Here in the teeth of this triumphant wind
- That shakes the naked shadows on the ground,
- Making a key-board of the earth to strike
- From clattering tree and hedge a separate sound,
-
- Bear witness for me that I loved my life,
- All things that hurt me and all things that healed,
- And that I swore to it this day in March,
- Here at the edge of this new-broken field.
-
- You only knew me, tell them I was glad
- For every hour since my hour of birth,
- And that I ceased to fear, as once I feared,
- The last complete reunion with the earth.
-
-
-
-
-_Let It Be You_
-
-
- Let it be you who lean above me
- On my last day,
- Let it be you who shut my eyelids
- Forever and aye.
-
- Say a “Good-night” as you have said it
- All of these years,
- With the old look, with the old whisper
- And without tears.
-
- You will know then all that in silence
- You always knew,
- Though I have loved, I loved no other
- As I love you.
-
-
-
-
-_The Flight_
-
-
- We are two eagles
- Flying together
- Under the heavens,
- Over the mountains,
- Stretched on the wind.
- Sunlight heartens us,
- Blind snow baffles us,
- Clouds wheel after us
- Ravelled and thinned.
-
- We are like eagles,
- But when Death harries us,
- Human and humbled
- When one of us goes,
- Let the other follow,
- Let the flight be ended,
- Let the fire blacken,
- Let the book close.
-
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