The Little Book of Modern Verse Part 5

Why. [Bliss Carman]

For a name unknown, Whose fame unblown Sleeps in the hills For ever and aye;

For her who hears The stir of the years Go by on the wind By night and day;

And heeds no thing Of the needs of Spring, Of Autumn's wonder Or Winter's chill;

For one who sees The great sun freeze, As he wanders a-cold From hill to hill;

And all her heart Is a woven part Of the flurry and drift Of whirling snow;

For the sake of two Sad eyes and true, And the old, old love So long ago.

The Wife from Fairyland. [Richard Le Gallienne]

Her talk was all of woodland things, Of little lives that pa.s.s Away in one green afternoon, Deep in the haunted gra.s.s;

For she had come from fairyland, The morning of a day When the world that still was April Was turning into May.

Green leaves and silence and two eyes -- 'T was so she seemed to me, A silver shadow of the woods, Whisper and mystery.

I looked into her woodland eyes, And all my heart was hers, And then I led her by the hand Home up my marble stairs;

And all my granite and my gold Was hers for her green eyes, And all my sinful heart was hers From sunset to sunrise;

I gave her all delight and ease That G.o.d had given to me, I listened to fulfill her dreams, Rapt with expectancy.

But all I gave, and all I did, Brought but a weary smile Of grat.i.tude upon her face; As though a little while,

She loitered in magnificence Of marble and of gold And waited to be home again When the dull tale was told.

Sometimes, in the chill galleries, Unseen, she deemed, unheard, I found her dancing like a leaf And singing like a bird.

So lone a thing I never saw In lonely earth or sky, So merry and so sad a thing, One sad, one laughing, eye.

There came a day when on her heart A wildwood blossom lay, And the world that still was April Was turning into May.

In the green eyes I saw a smile That turned my heart to stone: My wife that came from fairyland No longer was alone.

For there had come a little hand To show the green way home, Home through the leaves, home through the dew, Home through the greenwood -- home.

Life. [John Hall Wheelock]

Life burns us up like fire, And Song goes up in flame: The radiant body smoulders To the ashes whence it came.

Out of things it rises With a mouth that laughs and sings, Backward it fades and falters Into the char of things.

Yet soars a voice above it -- Love is holy and strong; The best of us forever Escapes in Love and Song.

Song is so old. [Hermann Hagedorn]

Song is so old, Love is so new -- Let me be still And kneel to you.

Let me be still And breathe no word, Save what my warm blood Sings unheard.

Let my warm blood Sing low of you -- Song is so fair, Love is so new!

That Day you came. [Lizette Woodworth Reese]

Such special sweetness was about That day G.o.d sent you here, I knew the lavender was out, And it was mid of year.

Their common way the great winds blew, The ships sailed out to sea; Yet ere that day was spent I knew Mine own had come to me.

As after song some s.n.a.t.c.h of tune Lurks still in gra.s.s or bough, So, somewhat of the end o' June Lurks in each weather now.

The young year sets the buds astir, The old year strips the trees; But ever in my lavender I hear the brawling bees.

Song. "For me the jasmine buds unfold". [Florence Earle Coates]

For me the jasmine buds unfold And silver daisies star the lea, The crocus h.o.a.rds the sunset gold, And the wild rose breathes for me.

I feel the sap through the bough returning, I share the skylark's transport fine, I know the fountain's wayward yearning, I love, and the world is mine!