anthology of massachusetts poets-第9章
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Like petals in a shower。
And tears of awful wonder ran
Adown my cheeks to hear the clan
Of beauty chaunting white
The prayer too deep for living word；
Or sight of man or winging bird；
Or music over forest heard
At falling of the night。
And dropping slowly as the dew
On grasses that the winds renew
In urge of flooding fire；
And softly as the hushing boughs
The gentle airs of dawn arouse
To cradle morning's quire。
The murmur of the singing leaves
Around the secret Flame；
Like mating swallows 'neath the eaves
In rustling silence came；
And flowing through the silent air
Creation fluttered in a prayer
Descending on a spiral stair；
And calling me by name。
It nestled in my dreaming eyes
Like heaven in a lake；
And softened hope into surprise
For very beauty's sake；
And silence blossomed into morn；
Whose fragrant rosy…breasted dawn
Could scarcely bear to break。
I sang into the morning light
As loud as I could sing；
The treetops bowed in sheer delight
Before the slanting wing。
And all the songs of little birds
Who laughed and cried in silver words
Adored the Risen Spring。
EDWARD J。 O'BRIEN
MICHAEL PAT
TO ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH
OLD Michael Pat he said to me
He saw an angel in a tree。
He knew I'd never； never doubt him；
For what would heaven be without them。
The angel laughed for very glee
And sang out loud： 〃Heigh！ come with me！〃
Old Michael felt a creeping kind
Of wonder in his humble mind；
And； hardly knowing what to say；
Ran where the angel showed the way。
The lambs were running on the hills；
Glad laughter echoed from the rills；
And many hidden little birds
Talked pleasant things in singing words。
He followed up a mountain then
And saw a crowd of singing men
Approaching to a Crown of Light
Wherein they took a fresh delight。
He danced and sang and whooped and crew
To see the Lord of all he knew
Surrounded by the living songs
Of stars and men in countless throngs；
And then he died to life again；
And shovelled with the strength of ten。
He taught me how to say my letters；
And take my hat off to my betters；
And when I asked for fairy stories；
He told me of angelic glories。
He was a lovely farmer； he
Had seen an angel in a tree。
EDWARD J。 O'BRIEN
SONG
FROM 〃FLESH： A GEOGORIAN ODE〃
EBB on with me across the sunset tide
And float beyond the waters of the world；
The light of evening slipping from my side；
Thy softened voice in waves of silence furled。
Flow on into the flaming morning wine；
Drowning the land in color。 Then on high
Rise in thy candid innocence and shine
Like to a poplar straight against the sky。
EDWARD J。 O'BRIEN
IN MEMORIAM： FRANCIS LEDWIDGE
（Killed in action； July 31； 1917）
SOLDIER and singer of Erin；
What may I fashion for thee？
What garland of words or of flowers？
Singer of sunlight and showers；
The wind on the lea；
Of clouds； and the houses of Erin；
Wee cabins； white on the plain；
And bright with the colours of even；
Beauty of earth and of heaven falls
Outspread beyond Slane！
night through let my mind be still；
Slane； where the Easter of Patrick
Flamed on the night of the Gael；
Guard both the honor and story
Of him who has died for the glory
That crowns Innisfail。
Soldier of right and of freedom；
I offer thee song and hot tears。
With Brian； and Red Hugh O'Donnell；
The chiefs of Tyrone and Tryconnell；
Live on through the years！
NORREYS JEPHSON O'CONOR
EVENSONG
A SHEPHERD piping； herald of the Night
Who comes with Silence up the coloured vale；
Treading low gently； clad in greyish white；
Poignantly piping； sound your reedy wail！
For Day departed moves in funeral train
Tended by Twilight and； in deepest rose；
The splendid Sunset melts beneath the main
While sweet the Sea…wind with cool softness blows。
As when a mother gathers to her breast
The child who frets for Dad's remembered smart；
Now Light fades quickly in the ashen west；
And Night…Peace falls across my troubled heart。
Flutes； for the night through let my mind be still；
And God keep safe with Him my stubborn will！
NORREYS JEPHSON O'CONOR
THE PROPHET
ALL day long he kept the sheep：
Far and early； from the crowd；
On the hills from steep to steep；
Where the silence cried aloud；
And the shadow of the cloud
Wrapt him in a noonday sleep。
Where he dipped the water's cool；
Filling boyish hands from thence；
Something breathed across the pool
Stir of sweet enlightenments；
And he drank； with thirsty sense；
Till his heart was brimmed and full。
Still； the hovering Voice unshed；
And the Vision unbeheld；
And the mute sky overhead；
And his longing； still withheld！
Even when the two tears welled；
Salt； upon that lonely bread。
Vaguely blessed in the leaves；
Dim…companioned in the sun；
Eager mornings； wistful eyes；
Very hunger drew him on；
And To…morrow ever shone
With the glow the sunset weaves。
Even so； to that young heart；
Words and hands and Men were dear；
And the stir of lane and mart
After daylong vigil here。
Sunset called； and he drew near；
Still to find his path apart。
When the Bell； with gentle tongue；
Called the herd…bells home again；
Through the purple shades he swung；
Down the mountain； through the glen；
Towards the sound of fellow…men；…
Even from the light that clung。
Dimly too； as cloud on cloud；
Came that silent flock of his：
Thronging whiteness； in a crowd；
After homing twos and threes；
With the longing memories
Of all white things dreamed and vowed。
Through the fragrances； alone；
By the sudden…silent brook；
》From the open world unknown；
To the close of speech and book；
There to find the foreign look
In the faces of his own。
Sharing was beyond his skill；
Shyly yet； he made essay：
Sought to dip； and share； and fill
Heart's…desire； from day to day。
But their eyes； some foreign way；
Looked at him； and he was still。
Last； he reached his arms to sleep；
Where the Vision waited； dim；
Still beyond some deep…on…deep。
And the darkness folded him；
Eager heart and weary limb。
All day long； he kept the sheep。
JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY
HARVEST…MOON： 1914
OVER the twilight field；
The overflowing field；
Over the glimmering field；
And bleeding furrows with their sodden yield
Of sheaves that still did writhe；
After the scythe；
The teeming field and darkly overstrewn
With all the garnered fulness of that noon
Two looked upon each other。
One was a Woman men called their mother；
And one； the Harvest…Moon。
And one； the Harvest…Moon；
Who stood； who gazed
On those unquiet gleanings where they bled；
Till the lone Woman said：
〃But we were crazed 。 。 。
We should laugh now together； I and you；
We two。
You； for your dreaming it was worth
A star's while to look on and light the Earth；
And I； forever telling to my mind；
Glory it was； and gladness； to give birth
To humankind！
Yes； I； that ever thought it not amiss
To give the breath to men；
For men to slay again：
Lording it over anguish but to give
My life that men might live
For this。
You will be laughing now； remembering
I called you once Dead World； and barren thing；
Yes； so we named you then；
You； far more wise
Than to give life to men。〃
Over the field； that there
Gave back the skies
A shattered upward stare
》From blank white eyes；
Striving awhile； through many a bleeding dune
Of throbbing clay； but dumb and quiet soon；
She looked； and went her way
The Harvest…Moon。
JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEAODY
HORSEMAN SPRINGING
FROM THE DARK： A DREAM
〃HORSEMAN； springing from the dark；
Horseman； flying wild and free；
Tell me what shall be thy road
Whither speedest far from me？〃
〃From the dark into the light；
》From the small unto the great；
》From the valleys dark I ride
O'er the hills to conquer fate！〃
〃Take me with thee； horseman mine！
Let me madly rode with thee！〃
As he turned I met his eyes；
My own soul looked back at me！
LILLA CABOT PERRY
THREE QUATRAINS
THE CUP
SHE said； 〃Lift high the cup！〃
Of her arm's weariness she gave no sign；
But； smiling； raised it up
That none might see or guess it held no wine。
FORGIVE ME NOT！
FORGIVE me not！ Hate me and I shall know
Some of Love's fire still burns within your breast！
Forgiveness finds its home in hearts at rest；
On dead volcanoes only lies the snow。
THE ROSE
ONE deep red rose I dropped into his grave；
So small a thing to give so great a friend！
Yet well he knew it was my heart I gave
And must fare on without it to the end；
LILLA CABOT PERRY
A VALENTINE； UNSENT
STAY； flaming rose； 'twould grieve her heart
To see you fade away；
Unloved； unwelcome and apart
》From every joy to…day。
Once long ago your tale was new；
Days distant yet so dear；
Why say her lover still is true；
When that is all her fear？
Why thus recall another's pain；
Her tender heart to fret？
Best let her think he loves again；
Who never can forget！
MARGARET PERRY
SHIPBUILDERS
THE German people reared them
An idol made of wood；
And Hindenburg before them
Lifelike and stupid stood。
To clothe him all in iron
And thus his soul express；
With nails and spikes they covered
His wooden nakedness。
And when they； thus had clothed him
All in a suit of mail；
Still came they； wild…eyed； looking
For space to drive a nail。
Whenever Teuton airmen
Slay boys and girls at play；
Or U…boats； drowning babies；
Create a holiday。
Then； gathering round their statue；
A happy German throng
Drive nails into the idol
To make him still more strong。
Avenge the babes； shipbuilders；
That on the seas have died；
Avenge the little children
Murdered for Wilhelm's pride。
Come； gather at the shipyards；
And let your hammers ring；
For more than ships and cargoes
Waits on your fashioning。
Come； gather at the shipyards；
With every bolt you drive
Bethink you ‘tis the Kaiser
Whose brutish head you rive。
Come； gather at the shipyards；
And swing with might and main；
‘Tis Tirpitz and the Crown Prince
That you to…day have slain。
Come； gather at the shipyards；
And heat the metal hot；
For it is Bethmann Hollweg
You're boiling in the pot。
Come； gather at the shipyards；
And when the day is done；
You've spent it in driving spikes；
In Hindernburg the Hun。
Come； gather at the shipyards；
And toil with healthy hate；
For only you can save the world；
The Hun is at the gate。
ARTHUR STANWOOD PIE
UNFADING PICTURES
（〃The air from the sea
