The Wings of Fortune
Fair fortune you are wild and coy,
Fickle, mysterious, and shy . . .
And so we lost you, Love and I!
And now, at last, because we find
Your golden footprints, Love the boy,
Dreams you are near . . . but Love is blind!
Yet, surely Sorrow's arms unwind
From this tired heart, and dark distress
Fades softly . . . softly from the world:
And in Hope's silver sky unfurled,
I see the banners of delight!
And the grey heaven of life grows bright
With the red dawn of happiness . . .
As with a laughing look Love flings
His heavy crown of thorns away . . .
Fair fortune, you are wild and coy,
And ah! I fear you will not stay.
But Love has caught you by the wings
And radiant as Eurydice
By her brave poet's song set free,
I rush into the arms of joy!
Shadow-Nets
When I was wandering on the Downs to-day
I saw the pine-woods sleeping in the sun . . .
For they were tired of weaving shadow-nets—
Weaving all day in vain . . . in vain . . . in vain . . .
Pale phantom nets to snare the golden sun!
And then I thought of how the poets weave
With shadowy words their cunning nets of song,
Hoping to catch, at last, a shining dream!
Peacocks. A Mood
In Gorgeous plumage, azure, gold and green,
They trample the pale flowers, and their shrill cry
Troubles the garden's bright tranquillity!
Proud birds of Beauty, splendid and serene,
Spreading their brilliant fans, screen after screen
Of burnished sapphire, gemmed with mimic suns—
Strange magic eyes, that, so the legend runs,
Will bring misfortune to this fair demesne . . .
And my gay youth, that, vain and debonair,
Sits in the sunshine—tired at last of play
(A child, that finds the morning all too long),
Tempts with its beauty that disastrous day
When in the gathering darkness of despair
Death shall strike dumb the laughing mouth of song.