For a poppy bud to bloom
In some flowery harmony
Woven through this quiet room.
Prick of light and shadow take me,
Fire and stars and voices keep,
Fairy clamour will not wake me ...
... Sleep.
But that warm grave of sleep
Nothing save myself immures.
Singing light and dreaming deep
Now my spirit walks with yours.
BALLADES OF THREE SENSES
I
BALLADE OF EYES THAT SEE
Leaves loosened when there blow
No winds; long fields whose green
Dim beneath the darling bow
Of the May-moon is seen;
Robins at dawn; the keen
Sour odour of vines—these show
Frail meanings caught between
The bourne of yes and no.
Yet there is tender art
To fathom what they mean,
Deep in the heart.
I go among them. Now I lean
Where willows fret the flow
Of water that has been
For miles to glean.
And in the osiers—O
An ouphe, an elfin queen.
I did not see her—lo,
The osiers did not part,
Yet she was there I ween,
Deep in the heart.
Envoy
Spells, lay upon the screen
The things that move me so.
I ask the better part:
To see with eyes serene
What things these others know——
Deep in the heart.