General William Booth Enters into Heaven : and other poems Part 9

He Gives What He Won to the Indian Girl

I panted in the gra.s.sy wood; I kissed the Indian Maid As she took my wings from me: With all the grace I could I gave two throbbing bells to her From the foot of the Laughing Tree.

And one she pressed to her golden breast And one, gave back to me.

From Lilies of the valley-- See them fade.

From poppy-blooms all frayed, From dandelions gray with care, From pansy-faces, worn and torn, From morning-glories-- See them fade-- From all things fragile, faint and fair Are the Wings of the Morning made!

Sweethearts of the Year

Sweetheart Spring

Our Sweetheart, Spring, came softly, Her gliding hands were fire, Her lilac breath upon our cheeks Consumed us with desire.

By her our G.o.d began to build, Began to sow and till.

He laid foundations in our loves For every good and ill.

We asked Him not for blessing, We asked Him not for pain-- Still, to the just and unjust He sent His fire and rain.

Sweetheart Summer

We prayed not, yet she came to us, The silken, s.h.i.+ning one, On Jacob's n.o.ble ladder Descended from the sun.

She reached our town of Every Day, Our dry and dusty sod-- We prayed not, yet she brought to us The misty wine of G.o.d.

Sweetheart Autumn

The woods were black and crimson, The frost-bit flowers were dead, But Sweetheart Indian Summer came With love-winds round her head.

While fruits G.o.d-given and splendid Belonged to her domain: Baskets of corn in perfect ear And grapes with purple stain, The treacherous winds persuaded her Spring Love was in the wood Altho' the end of love was hers-- Fruition, Motherhood.

Sweetheart Winter

We had done naught of service To win our Maker's praise.

Yet Sweetheart Winter came to us To gild our waning days.

Down Jacob's winding ladder She came from Suns.h.i.+ne Town, Bearing the sparkling mornings And clouds of silver-brown; Bearing the seeds of Springtime.

Upon her snowy seas Bearing the fairy star-flowers For baby Christmas trees.

The Sorceress!

I asked her, "Is Aladdin's lamp Hidden anywhere?"

"Look into your heart," she said, "Aladdin's lamp is there."

She took my heart with glowing hands.

It burned to dust and air And smoke and rolling thistledown Blowing everywhere.

"Follow the thistledown," she said, "Till doomsday, if you dare, Over the hills and far away.

Aladdin's lamp is there."

Caught in a Net

Upon her breast her hands and hair Were tangled all together.

The moon of June forbade me not-- The golden night time weather In balmy sighs commanded me To 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 soul Amid the black and white.

Eden in Winter

[Supposed to be chanted to some rude instrument at a modern fireplace]

Chant we the story now Tho' in a house we sleep; Tho' by a hearth of coals Vigil to-night we keep.

Chant we the story now, Of the vague love we knew When I from out the sea Rose to the feet of you.

Bird from the cliffs you came, Flew thro' the snow to me, Facing the icy blast There by the icy sea.

How did I reach your feet?

Why should I--at the end Hold out half-frozen hands Dumbly to you my friend?

Ne'er had I woman seen, Ne'er had I seen a flame.

There you piled f.a.gots on, Heat rose--the blast to tame.

There by the cave-door dark, Comforting me you cried-- Wailed o'er my wounded knee, Wept for my rock-torn side.

Up from the South I trailed-- Left regions fierce and fair!

Left all the jungle-trees, Left the red tiger's lair.

Dream led, I scarce knew why, Into your North I trod-- Ne'er had I known the snow, Or the frost-blasted sod.

O how the flakes came down!

O how the fire burned high!

Strange thing to see he was, Thro' his dry twigs would fly, Creep there awhile and sleep-- Then wake and bark for fight-- Biting if I too near Came to his eye so bright.

Then with a will you fed Wood to his hungry tongue.

Then he did leap and sing-- Dancing the clouds among, Turning the night to noon, Stinging my eyes with light, Making the snow retreat, Making the cave-house bright.

There were dry f.a.gots piled, Nuts and dry leaves and roots, Stores there of furs and hides, Sweet-barks and grains and fruits.