I stand in a sunny garden;
A blackbird sings overhead:
"I'm alive ... I've a love ... the sun's shining
And where's the man would be dead?"
"Blackbird, make an ending of fluting
That song down your orange beak:
I'm alive ... I've a love ... the sun's shining,
And—I am the man you seek."
Stamford,
May, 1913.
CHANGE
Behold, the tides are awake!
Under the high moon's light,
Broad bands of silver, they glitter and quake,
Moving out into the night.
Off from the shore they slide,
Out, out into the blue:
And I am turned to a shimmering tide
Flooding on outward to you!
Hengistbury Head,
Spring, 1915.