Kitabı oku: «Herbs and Apples», sayfa 5

AN IMPRESSIONIST PICTURE

 
"How do you do," I said; the yellow coat
She wore was like a golden serpent's skin.
I took her white gloved hand, my voice grew thin
As tho' her hand were tight about my throat.
The air was green with heat, a flaccid note
I did not fail to see, for heat might win
My cause; her weary soul looked from within
And saw the white sails flapping on my boat.
 
 
"Coolness and rest" my eyes were whispering,
In Isles where morn grows never afternoon,
Where Passion buds forever with the Spring,
Nor wanes with shifting tides of sea and moon,
But—"How are you?" she said, and that was all,
And tho' she smiled, she passed beyond recall.
 

SUCH HELP FOR SINGING

 
Such help I have for singing!
The little winds a-stir
Touch gently on the lisping leaves
Like dainty dulcimer.
 
 
The sights and scents of April—
What dreams, what themes they bring—
While gaunt crows cry their gasconade
Down all the ways of Spring.
 
 
Such happy help for singing!
And round, below, above
The air is thrilling with my joy
Of love, love, love.
 

TEMPUS EDAX RERUM

 
Upon the silence of my unconcern
The little noise that was your name falls dead.
I can remember how your mouth was red,
In the lost years, but tho' the senses yearn
For some unguessed desire, they never turn
To that vitality, your face!—We sped
So swiftly thro' our burning hour. We said
Drink deep, 't will never end; too late we learn
That lovely passion's face so soon is grey,
That notes too often pressed upon grow dumb,
That after the high climax crowns a day
The dusk seems long and empty. We who come
To taste again Life's feast, why must it be
We meet such ghosts to chill our revelry?
 

THE COWARD

 
Wishful of many honors,
He was too lame to climb,
And so he sat to wait for Death,
Forgetting to be brave.
 
 
He never saw the windfalls,
From off the trees of Time,
Drop down in mellow chance to him
The while he digged his grave.
 

THE LOST ROMANY

 
The Romany has gone, he has taken all my kisses,
I knew I could not keep him, so I laughed and let him go.
I do not know the road where his freedom and his bliss is,
So take my sober spinning where no gypsy winds can blow.
 
 
I will find my life serene, I will wed a pleasant lover,
I may think no more of perfume and the lingering in the lane;
I will rear me sturdy children, and my soul I will discover,
For I will not love a Romany in all this world again.
 

COMPENSATION

 
If one grew blind thro' gazing
Wide-eyed upon the sun,
What matter when such memoried light
Would last till life were done.
 
 
If one should die of loving,
Divinely wild, and brave,
What matter with such dreams to dream
Within the quiet grave.
 

UNTAMED

 
Ah, we weary so with kisses,
Weary so with your caresses,
As the hooded hawk returning
To its tinkling bells and jesses,
So we flutter to the prison
Of your arms, in meek surrender,
And we grieve when you are angry,
And we smile when you are tender,
But our souls, untamed, are soaring
Where no blandishments can teach them,
Free our hearts, and free our spirits,
Where your hands can never reach them.
 

TO PERVANCHE

 
If you were mine—(for all the little flowers
That see you, weary of their innocence)—
If prayers that have been pale with penitence
Grew purple with our passion, all the hours
From sun to sun would be unique with bliss,
Little red mouth that is not mine to kiss!
 
 
You are not mine and you will never be,
And so I am magnanimous, I give
My love and you to Time, and you shall live
Bride of his avid passion. I will see
The moon of all this lure and beauty set,
And I will turn from you and quite forget.
 

THE BELLE

 
She spread her atlas petticoat
So rare, so fine to see.
Her bonnet was of Tuscan straw,
Her shawl was Turkey red.
She peacocked gay before men's eyes,
This lady of degree,
On slippered tiny feet, and ah!
She wished that she were dead.
 
 
At every ball, at every rout
She was the toast of town;
But no one knew who called her cold
What cruel wound had she.
The laughing gallant that she loved
Had scorned her high renown,
And now another bore his babe,
And held it on her knee.