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The very crown of nature's changing year When all her surging life is at its
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A Dome of Many…Coloured Glass
full。 To me alone it is a time of pause； A void and silent space between two
worlds； When inspiration lags； and feeling sleeps； Gathering strength for
efforts yet to come。 For life alone is creator of life； And closest contact
with the human world Is like a lantern shining in the night To light me to a
knowledge of myself。 I love the vivid life of winter months In constant
intercourse with human minds； When every new experience is gain And
on all sides we feel the great world's heart； The pulse and throb of life
which makes us men！
〃To…morrow to Fresh Woods and Pastures New〃
As for a moment he stands； in hardy masculine beauty； Poised on the
fircrested rock； over the pool which below him Gleams in the wavering
sunlight； waiting the shock of his plunging。 So for a moment I stand； my
feet planted firm in the present； Eagerly scanning the future which is so
soon to possess me。
The Way
At first a mere thread of a footpath half blotted out by the grasses
Sweeping triumphant across it； it wound between hedges of roses Whose
blossoms were poised above leaves as pond lilies float on the water； While
hidden by bloom in a hawthorn a bird filled the morning with singing。
It widened a highway； majestic； stretching ever to distant horizons；
Where shadows of tree…branches wavered； vague outlines invaded by
sunshine； No sound but the wind as it whispered the secrets of earth to the
flowers； And the hum of the yellow bees； honey…laden and dusty with
pollen。 And Summer said； 〃Come； follow onward； with no thought save
the longing to wander； The wind； and the bees； and the flowers； all
singing the great song of Nature； Are minstrels of change and of
promise； they herald the joy of the Future。〃
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Later the solitude vanished； confused and distracted the road Where
many were seeking and jostling。 Left behind were the trees and the
flowers； The half…realized beauty of quiet； the sacred unconscious
communing。 And now he is come to a river； a line of gray； sullen water；
Not blue and splashing； but dark； rolling somberly on to the ocean。 But on
the far side is a city whose windows flame gold in the sunset。 It lies fair
and shining before him； a gem set betwixt sky and water； And spanning
the river a bridge； frail promise to longing desire； Flung by man in his
infinite courage； across the stern force of the water； And he looks at the
river and fears； the bridge is so slight； yet he ventures His life to its
fragile keeping； if it fails the waves will engulf him。 O Arches！ be strong
to uphold him； and bear him across to the city； The beautiful city whose
spires still glow with the fires of sunset！
Diya ｛original title is Greek； Delta…iota…psi…alpha｝
Look； Dear； how bright the moonlight is to…night！ See where it casts
the shadow of that tree Far out upon the grass。 And every gust Of light
night wind comes laden with the scent Of opening flowers which never
bloom by day： Night…scented stocks； and four…o'clocks； and that Pale
yellow disk； upreared on its tall stalk； The evening primrose； comrade of
the stars。 It seems as though the garden which you love Were like a
swinging censer； its incense Floating before us as a reverent act To
sanctify and bless our night of love。 Tell me once more you love me； that 't
is you Yes； really you； I touch； so； with my hand； And tell me it is by your
own free will That you are here； and that you like to be Just here； with me；
under this sailing pine。 I need to hear it often for my heart Doubts
naturally； and finds it hard to trust。 Ah； Dearest； you are good to love me
so； And yet I would not have it goodness； rather Excess of selfishness in
you to need Me through and through； as flowers need the sun。 I wonder
can it really be that you And I are here alone； and that the night Is full of
hours； and all the world asleep； And none can call to you to come away；
For you have given all yourself to me Making me gentle by your
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A Dome of Many…Coloured Glass
willingness。 Has your life too been waiting for this time； Not only mine
the sharpness of this joy？ Dear Heart； I love you； worship you as though I
were a priest before a holy shrine。 I'm glad that you are beautiful； although
Were you not lovely still I needs must love； But you are all things； it must
have been so For otherwise it were not you。 Come； close； When you are
in the circle of my arm Faith grows a mountain and I take my stand Upon
its utmost top。 Yes； yes； once more Kiss me； and let me feel you very
near Wanting me wholly； even as I want you。 Have years behind been dark？
Will those to come Bring unguessed sorrows into our two lives？ What
does it matter； we have had to…night！ To…night will make us strong； for we
believe Each in the other； this is a sacrament。 Beloved； is it true？
Roads
I know a country laced with roads； They join the hills and they span
the brooks； They weave like a shuttle between broad fields； And slide
discreetly through hidden nooks。 They are canopied like a Persian dome
And carpeted with orient dyes。 They are myriad…voiced； and musical；
And scented with happiest memories。 O Winding roads that I know so
well； Every twist and turn； every hollow and hill！ They are set in my
heart to a pulsing tune Gay as a honey…bee humming in June。 'T is the
rhythmic beat of a horse's feet And the pattering paws of a sheep…dog
bitch； 'T is the creaking trees； and the singing breeze； And the rustle of
leaves in the road…side ditch。
A cow in a meadow shakes her bell And the notes cut sharp through
the autumn air； Each chattering brook bears a fleet of leaves Their cargo
the rainbow； and just now where The sun splashed bright on the road
ahead A startled rabbit quivered and fled。 O Uphill roads and roads that
dip down！ You curl your sun…spattered length along； And your march is
beaten into a song By the softly ringing hoofs of a horse And the panting
breath of the dogs I love。 The pageant of Autumn follows its course And
the blue sky of Autumn laughs above。
And the song and the country become as one； I see it as music； I hear
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it as light； Prismatic and shimmering； trembling to tone； The land of
desire； my soul's delight。 And always it beats in my listening ears With
the gentle thud of a horse's stride； With the swift…falling steps of many
dogs； Following； following at my side。 O Roads that journey to fairyland！
Radiant highways whose vistas gleam； Leading me on； under crimson
leaves； To the opaline gates of the Castles of Dream。
Teatro Bambino。 Dublin； N。 H。
How still it is！ Sunshine itself here falls In quiet shafts of light
through the high trees Which； arching； make a roof above the walls
Changing from sun to shadow as each breeze Lingers a moment； charmed
by the strange sight Of an Italian theatre； storied； seer Of vague romance；
and time's long history； Where tiers of grass…grown seats sprinkled with
white； Sweet…scented clover； form a broken sphere Grouped round the
stage in hushed expectancy。
What sound is that which echoes through the wood？ Is it the reedy
note of an oaten pipe？ Perc