The Lonely Dancer and Other Poems Part 2

Dew-breathing shade! all summer lies In the cool hollow of thy breast, Thou moth-winged creature darkly fair; The very sun steals down to rest Within thy swaying tendrilled hair, And forest-flicker of thine eyes.

Made of all shapes that flit and sway, And ma.s.s, and scatter in the breeze, And meet and part, open and close; Thou sister of the clouds and trees, Thou daintier phantom of the rose, Thou nun of the hot and honeyed day.

Misdeemed art thou of those who hold Darkness thy soul, thy dwelling place Night and its stars; nay! all of light Wert though begot, all flowers thy face, And, hushed in thee, all colours bright Hide from the noon their blue and gold.

Thy voice the song of hidden rills, The sigh deep-bosomed silence heaves From the full heart of happy things,-- The lap of water-lily leaves, The noiseless language of the wings Of evening making strange the hills.

JUNE

We thought that winter, love, would never end, That the dark year had slain the innocent May, Nor hoped that your soft hand, this summer day, Would lie, as now, in mine, beloved friend; And, like some magic spring, your dream-deep eyes Hold all the summer skies.

But lo! the world again is mad with flowers, The long white silence spake, small bird by bird, Blade after blade, amid the song of showers, The gra.s.s stole back once more, and there was heard The ancient music of the vernal spheres, Half laughter and half tears.

Ah! love, and now too swiftly, like some groom, Raining hot kisses on his bride's young mouth, The mad young year, delirious with the South, Squanders his fairy treasure, bloom on bloom; Too soon the wild rose hastens to be sweet, Too swift, O June, thy feet.

Tarry a little, summer, crowd not so All glory and gladness in so brief a day, Teach all thy dancing flowers a step more slow, And bid thy wild musicians softlier play, O hast thou thought, that like a madman spends, The longest summer ends.

GREEN SILENCE

Silence, whose drowsy eyelids are soft leaves, And whose half-sleeping eyes are the blue flowers, On whose still breast the water-lily heaves, For all her speech the whisper of the showers.

Made of all things that in the water sway, The quiet reed kissing the arrowhead, The willows murmuring, all a summer day, "Silence"--sweet word, and ne'er so softly said

As here along this path of brooding peace, Where all things dream, and nothing else is done But all such gentle businesses as these Of leaves and rippling wind, and setting sun

Turning the stream to a long lane of gold, Where the young moon shall walk with feet of pearl, And, framed in sleeping lilies, fold on fold, Gaze at herself, like any mortal girl.

SUMMER SONGS

I

How thick the gra.s.s, How green the shade-- All for love And lovers made.

Wood-lilies white As hidden lace-- Open your bodice, That's their place.

See how the sun-G.o.d Overpowers The summer lying Deep in flowers;

With burning kisses Of bright gold Fills her young womb With joy untold;

And all the world Is lad and la.s.s, A blue sky And a couch of gra.s.s.

Summer is here-- let us drain It all! it may Not come again.

II

How the leaves thicken On the boughs, And the birds make Their lyric vows.

O the beating, breaking Heart of things, The pulse and pa.s.sion-- How it sings.

How it burns and flames And showers, l.u.s.ts and laughs, flowers And deflowers.

III

Summer came, Rose on rose; Leaf on leaf, Summer goes.

Summer came, Song on song; O summer had A golden tongue.

Summer goes, Sigh on sigh; Not a rose Sees him die.

TO A WILD BIRD

Wild bird, I stole you from your nest, And cannot find your nest again; To hear you chirp a little while I wrung your mother's heart with pain.

And here you sit and droop and die, Nor any love that I can bring Wins me forgiveness for the wrong, Nor any kindness makes you sing.

"I CROSSED THE ORCHARD WALKING HOME"

I crossed the orchard, walking home, The rising moon was at my back, The apples and the moonlight fell Together on the railroad track.

Then, speeding through the evening dews, A dozen lighted windows glide-- The East-bound flyer for New York, Soft as a magic-lantern slide.

New York! on through the sleeping flowers, Through echoing midnight on to noon; How strange that yonder is New York, And here such silence and the moon.

"I MEANT TO DO MY WORK TO-DAY"

I meant to do my work to-day-- But a brown bird sang in the apple-tree, And a b.u.t.terfly flitted across the field, And all the leaves were calling me.

And the wind went sighing over the land, Tossing the gra.s.ses to and fro, And a rainbow held out its s.h.i.+ning hand-- So what could I do but laugh and go?

"HOW FAST THE YEAR IS GOING BY"

How fast the year is going by!

Love, it will be September soon; O let us make the best of June.

Already, love, it is July; The rose and honeysuckle go, And all too soon will come the snow.

Dark berries take the place of flowers, Of summer August still remains, Then sad September with her rains.

O love, how short a year is ours-- So swiftly does the summer fly, Scarce time is left to say goodbye.