THOSE YOU DINED WITH
| They would have made you like a pageant, bold And nightly festive, lustre-lit for them, And round your beauty, like a dusky gem, Have poured the glamour of the pride of gold; And you would lie in life as in her bed The mistress of a pale king, indolent, Though hot her limbs and strong her languishment, And her deep spirit is unvisited. But I would see you like a gypsy, free As windy morning in the sunny air, Your wild warm self, your vivid self, to be, A miracle of nature's liberty, Giving your gift of being kind and fair, High, gay and careless-handed everywhere! |
THE PASSIONS OF A CHILD
| The passions of a child attend his dreams. He lives, loves, hopes, remembers, is forlorn For legendary creatures, whom he deems Not too unreal—until one golden morn The gracious, all-awaking sun shines in Upon his tranquil pillow, and his eyes Are touched, and opened greatly, and begin To drink reality with rich surprise. I loved the impetuous souls of ancient story— Heroic characters, kings, queens, whose wills Like empires rose, achieved, and fell, in glory. I was a child, until the radiant dawn, Thy beauty, woke me—O thy spirit fills The stature of those heroes, they are gone! |
AS THE CRAG EAGLE
| As the crag eagle to the zenith's height Wings his pursuit in his exalted hour Of her the tempest-reared, whose airy power Of plume and passion challenges his flight To that wild altitude, where they unite, In mutual tumultuous victory And the swift sting of nature's ecstasy, Their shuddering pinions and their skyward might— As they, the strong, to the full height of heaven Bear up that joy which to the strong is given, Thus, thus do we, whose stormy spirits quiver In the bold air of utter liberty, Clash equal at our highest, I and thee, Unconquered and unconquering forever! |