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THE SUN
Now autumn, and that sadness as of love Heroic in immortal solitude; Those veins of flaming pa.s.sion through the wood; But in the blue and infinite above A shining circle like the light of truth, Self-poising; deathless his desire sublime, Whose motion is the measurement of time, Whose step is morning, and his smile is youth.
No pa.s.sion burns upon the livid earth Whose stain can tint that circle, or whose cry Can rout the tranquilly receiving sky.
All pa.s.sion, all its crimson stream, from birth To murder, bloom and pestilential blight, All flows beneath the sanction of his light.
THE NET
The net brings up, how long and languidly, A million vivid quiverings of life, Keen-finned and gleaming like a steely knife, All colors, green and silver of the sea, All forms of skill and eagerness to be-- They die and wither of the very breath That sounds your pity of their lavish death While they are leaping, star-like, to be free.
They die and wither, but the aged sea, Insane old salty womb of mystery, Is pregnant with a million million more, Whom she will suckle in her oozy floor, Whom she will vomit on a heedless sh.o.r.e, While onward her immortal currents pour.
A DUNE SONNET
I was so lonely on the dunes to-day; The shadow of a bird pa.s.sed o'er the sand, And I, a driftwood relic in my hand....
Sea winds are not more lonely when they stray A little fitful and bewildered way In this wan acre, whose dry billows stand So pitilessly still of curve, so bland, And wide, and waiting, infinitely grey.
In hollows I could almost hear them say, The misty breezes--Run, we will not stay In this unreal and spiritual land!
Our soul of life is calling from the strand, Whose blue and breathing bosom leapt or lay Or laughed to us in shots of silver spray!
SONGS
SEA-Sh.o.r.e
The wind blows in along the sea-- Its salty wet caresses Impart to all the ships that be A thrill before it pa.s.ses.
The tide is never at a stand, A mountain in its motion, Forever homing to the land, And ever to the ocean.
And on its fickle, mighty breast The waters still are moving, With love in every running crest And laughter in the loving--
Light love to touch the prows of ships That slip along so slenderly.
I would as lightly touch your lips, And your heart as tenderly,
If you would move with all that move, The flowing and caressing, Who have no firmness in their love, No sorrow in its pa.s.sing.
RAINY SONG
Down the dripping pathway dancing through the rain, Brown eyes of beauty, laugh to me again!
Eyes full of starlight, moist over fire, Full of young wonder, touch my desire!
O like a brown bird, like a bird's flight, Run through the rain drops lithely and light.
Body like a gypsy, like a wild queen, Slim brown dress to slip through the green--
The little leaves hold you as soft as a child, The little path loves you, the path that runs wild.
Who would not love you, seeing you move, Warm-eyed and beautiful through the green grove?
Let the rain kiss you, trickle through your hair, Laugh if my fingers mingle with it there,
Laugh if my cheek too is misty and drips-- Wetness is tender--laugh on my lips
The happy sweet laughter of love without pain, Young love, the strong love, burning in the rain.
A HYMN TO G.o.d
IN TIME OF STRESS
Lift, O dark and glorious Wonder, Once again thy gleaming sword, Cleave this killing doubt asunder With one sheer and sacred word!
For my heart is weak and broken, And the struggle runs too high, And there is no burning token In the new immortal sky.
Oh, not curb or courage only Does my hour demand of me, It is thought supreme and lonely And responsible and free!
And I quail before the danger As a bark before the blast, When the beacon star's a stranger In the mountains piling fast,
And there is no light but reason And the compa.s.s of the ship.
G.o.d, a word of thine in season!
G.o.d, a motion of thy lip!
COMING SPRING