#AmericanWriters
In a cave born (Mary said) In a cave is My Son buried
(1) The rose new-opening saith, And the dew of the morning saith, (Fallen leaves and vanished dew) Remember death.
Nor stars . . the dark . . and in The dark the grey Ghost glimmer of the olive trees The black straight rows Of Cypresses.
Lo, All the Way, Look you, I said, the clouds will… Grow clear, the road Be easier for my travelling the fi… So sodden and dead,
The immemorial grief of all years Burdes my heart sorely, and the ye… Of slow eternal crying stain my ch… Forever and forever my soul speaks Saying: I am thy self: Look on me…
Joy! Joy! Joy! The hills are glad, The valleys re-echo with merriment… In my heart is the sound of laught… And my feet dance to the time of i…
Sun and wind and beat of sea, Great lands stretching endlessly’… Where be bonds to bind the free? All the world was made for me!
If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!
Behold her, Running through the waves Eager to reach the land; The water laps her, Sun and wind are on her,
If illness’ end be health regained… Will pay you, Asculapeus, when I…
Lo, how they weave– the imperturba… Those threads that are my destiny: Steadily at the eternal task they’… Industrious . . . indifferent . .… Weave, Fates! And what your spins…
Thou hast Drawn laughter from A well of secret tears And thence so elvish it rings, –mo… And sweet.
Scarlet the poppies Blue the corn-flowers, Golden the wheat. Gold for the Eternal: Blue for Our Lady:
A flickering light near spent Her pale hand bore. Have you seen Angelique? Will she know the place Dead feet must find,
Burdock, Blue aconite, And thistle and thorn. .of these Singing I wreathe my pretty wreat… O’death.