Sweetheart Spring Our Sweetheart, Spring, came softly,Her gliding hands were fire,Her lilac breath upon our cheeksConsumed us with desire. By her our God began to build,Began to sow and till.He laid foundations in our lovesFor every good and ill.We asked Him not for blessing,We asked Him not for pain–Still, to the just and unjustHe sent […]

[A Poem for Aviators] How the Wings Were Made From many morning-gloriesThat in an hour will fade,From many pansy budsGathered in the shade,From lily of the valleyAnd dandelion buds,From fiery poppy-budsAre the Wings of the Morning made. The Indian Girl Who Made Them These, the Wings of the Morning,An Indian Maiden wove,Intertwining subtilelyWands from a […]

[Written for a picture] The Youth speaks:–“Why do you seek the sunIn your bubble-crown ascending?Your chariot will melt to mist.Your crown will have an ending.” The Goddess replies:–“Nay, sun is but a bubble,Earth is a whiff of foam–To my caves on the coast of ThuleEach night I call them home.Thence Faiths blow forth to angelsAnd […]

“Tell me, where do ghosts in loveFind their bridal veils?” “If you and I were ghosts in loveWe’d climb the cliffs of Mystery,Above the sea of Wails.I’d trim your gray and streaming hairWith veils of FantasyFrom the tree of Memory.‘Tis there the ghosts that fall in loveFind their bridal veils.”

Ah, she was music in herself,A symphony of joyousness.She sang, she sang from finger tips,From every tremble of her dress.I saw sweet haunting harmony,An ecstasy, an ecstasy,In that strange curling of her lips,That happy curling of her lips.And quivering with melodyThose eyes I saw, that tossing head. And so I saw what music was,Tho’ still […]

“Down cellar,” said the cricket,“I saw a ball last nightIn honor of a ladyWhose wings were pearly-white.The breath of bitter weatherHad smashed the cellar pane:We entertained a drift of leavesAnd then of snow and rain.But we were dressed for winter,And loved to hear it blowIn honor of the ladyWho makes potatoes grow–Our guest, the Irish […]

[What the Man of Faith said] The dew, the rain and moonlightAll prove our Father’s mind.The dew, the rain and moonlightDescend to bless mankind. Come, let us see that all menHave land to catch the rain,Have grass to snare the spheres of dew,And fields spread for the grain. Yea, we would give to each poor […]

[How different people and different animals look upon the moon:showing that each creature finds in it his own mood and disposition] The Old Horse in the City The moon’s a peck of corn. It liesHeaped up for me to eat.I wish that I might climb the pathAnd taste that supper sweet. Men feed me straw […]

O dandelion, rich and haughty,King of village flowers!Each day is coronation time,You have no humble hours.I like to see you bring a troopTo beat the blue-grass spears,To scorn the lawn-mower that would beLike fate’s triumphant shears.Your yellow heads are cut away,It seems your reign is o’er.By noon you raise a sea of starsMore golden than […]

Once I loved a fairy,Queen Mab it was. Her voiceWas like a little FountainThat bids the birds rejoice.Her face was wise and solemn,Her hair was brown and fine.Her dress was pansy velvet,A butterfly design. To see her hover round meOr walk the hills of air,Awakened love’s deep pulsesAnd boyhood’s first despair;A passion like a sword-bladeThat […]

[Supposed to be chanted to some rude instrument at a modern fireplace] Chant we the story nowTho’ in a house we sleep;Tho’ by a hearth of coalsVigil to-night we keep.Chant we the story now,Of the vague love we knewWhen I from out the seaRose to the feet of you. Bird from the cliffs you came,Flew […]

I was but a half-grown boy,You were a girl-child slight.Ah, how weary you were!You had led in the bullock-fight . . .We slew the bullock at lengthWith knives and maces of stone.And so your feet were torn,Your lean arms bruised to the bone. Perhaps ’twas the slain beast’s bloodWe drank, or a root we ate,Or […]

Upon her breast her hands and hairWere tangled all together.The moon of June forbade me not–The golden night time weatherIn balmy sighs commanded meTo kiss them like a feather. Her looming hair, her burning hands,Were tangled black and white.My face I buried there. I pray–So far from her to-night–For grace, to dream I kiss her […]

Let not our town be large, rememberingThat little Athens was the Muses’ home,That Oxford rules the heart of London still,That Florence gave the Renaissance to Rome. Record it for the grandson of your son–A city is not builded in a day:Our little town cannot complete her soulTill countless generations pass away. Now let each child […]

O you who lose the art of hope,Whose temples seem to shrine a lie,Whose sidewalks are but stones of fear,Who weep that Liberty must die,Turn to the little prairie towns,Your higher hope shall yet begin.On every side awaits you thereSome gate where glory enters in. Yet when I see the flocks of girls,Watching the Sunday […]

Into the acres of the newborn stateHe poured his strength, and plowed his ancient name,And, when the traders followed him, he stoodTowering above their furtive souls and tame. That brow without a stain, that fearless eyeOft left the passing stranger wonderingTo find such knighthood in the sprawling land,To see a democrat well-nigh a king. He […]

Down, down beneath the daisy beds,O hear the cries of pain!And moaning on the cinder-pathThey’re blind amid the rain.Can murmurs of the worms ariseTo higher hearts than mine?I wonder if that gardener hearsWho made the mold all fineAnd packed each gentle seedling downSo carefully in line? I watched the red rose reaching upTo ask him […]

[Written to the Most Beautiful Woman in the World] My Sweetheart is the TRUTH BEYOND THE MOON,And never have I been in love with Woman,Always aspiring to be set in tuneWith one who is invisible, inhuman. O laughing girl, cold TRUTH has stepped between,Spoiling the fevers of your virgin face:Making your shining eyes but lead […]

Section One “Give the engines room, Give the engines room.” Louder, faster The little band-master Whips up the fluting, Hurries up the tooting. He thinks that he stands, [# To be read, or chanted, with the heavy buzzing bass of fire-engines pumping. #] The reins in his hands, In the fire-chief’s place In the night […]

(A Humoresque) I asked the old Negro, “What is that bird that sings so well?” He answered: “That is the Rachel-Jane.” “Hasn’t it another name, lark, or thrush, or the like?” “No. Jus’ Rachel-Jane.” I. In which a Racing Auto comes from the East [# To be sung delicately, to an improvised tune. #] This […]