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shore！ It is I that ye hear in the calling wind I have stared through the
dark till my soul is blind！ O lover of mine； ye swore； Lover of mine；
ye swore！
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HUNTED
Oh； why do they hunt so hard； so hard； who have no need of food？
Do they hunt for sport； do they hunt for hate； do they hunt for the
lust of blood？
。 。 。 。 。 。
If I were a god I would get me a spear； I would get me horse and
dog； And merrily； merrily I would ride through covert and brake and
bog；
With hound and horn and laughter loud； over the hills and away
For there is no sport like that of a god with a man that stands at bay！
Ho！ but the morning is fresh and fair； and oh！ but the sun is
bright； And yonder the quarry breaks from the brush and heads for
the hills in flight；
A minute's law for the harried thingthen follow him； follow him
fast； With the bellow of dogs and the beat of hoofs and the mellow
bugle's blast。
。 。 。 。 。 。
Hillo！ Halloo！ they have marked a man！ there is sport in the
world to…day And a clamor swells from the heart of the wood that
tells of a soul at bay！
A DREAM CHILD
WHERE tides of tossed wistaria bloom Foam up in purple
turbulence； Where twining boughs have built a room And wing'd winds
pause to garner scents And scattered sunlight flecks the gloom； She
broods in pensive indolence。
What is the thought that holds her thrall； That dims her sight with
unshed tears？ What songs of sorrow droop and fall In broken music for
her ears？ What voices thrill her and recall The poignant joy of happier
years？
She dreams 'tis not the winds which pass That whisper through the
shaken vine； Whose footstep stirs the rustling grass None else that
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listened might divine； She sees her child that never was Look up with
longing in his eyne。
Unkissed； his lifted forehead gains A grace not earthly； but more
rare For since her heart but only feigns； Wherefore should love not
feign him fair？ Put blood of roses in his veins； Weave yellow sunshines
for his hair？
All ghosts of little children dead That wander wistful； uncaressed；
Their seeking lips by love unfed； She fain would cradle on her breast
For his sweet sake whose lonely head Has never known that tender rest。
And thus she sits； and thus she broods； Where drifted blossoms
freak the grass； The winds that move across her moods Pulse with low
whispers as they pass； And in their eerier interludes She hears a voice
that never was。
ACROSS THE NIGHT
MUCH listening through the silences； Much staring through the
night； And lo！ the dumb blind distances Are bridged with speech and
sight！
Magician Thought； informed of Love； Hath fixed her on the air
Oh； Love and I laughed down the fates And clasped her； here as there！
Across the eerie silences She came in headlong flight； She stormed
the serried distances； She trampled space and night！
Oh； foolish scientists might give This miracle a name But Love
and I care but to know That when we called she came。
And since I find the distances Subservient to my thought； And of
the sentient silences More vital speech have wrought；
Then she and I will mock Death's self； For all his vaunted might
There are no gulfs we dare not leap； As she leapt through the night！
EA CHANGES
I MORNING
WE stood among the boats and nets； We saw the swift clouds fall；
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We watched the schooners scamper in Before the sudden squall； The
jolly squall strove lustily To whelm the sheltered street The merry
squall that piled the seas About the patient headland's knees And
chased the fishing fleet。
She laughed； as if with wings her mirth Arose and left the wingless
earth And all tame things behind； Rose like a bird； wild with delight
Whose briny pinions flash in flight Through storm and sun and wind。
Her laughter sought those skies because Their mood and hers were
one； For she and I were drunk with love And life and storm and sun！
And while she laughed； the Sun himself Leapt laughing through the
rain And struck his harper hand along The ringing coast； and that wind…
song Whose joy is mixed with pain Forgot the undertone of grief
And joined the jocund strain； And over every hidden reef Whereon the
waves broke merrily Rose jets and sprays of melody And leapt and
laughed again。
II MOONLIGHT
We stood among the boats and nets 。 。 。 We marked the risen moon
Walk swaying o'er the trembling seas As one sways in a swoon；
The little stars； the lonely stars； Stole through the hollow sky； And
every sucking eddy where The waves lapped wharf or rotten stair Moaned
like some stricken thing hid there And strangled with its own despair
As the shuddering tide crept by。
I loved her； and I hated her Or did I hate myself because；
Bound by obscure； strong； silken laws； I felt myself the worshiper Of
beauty never wholly mine？ With lures most apt to snare； entwine； With
bonds too subtle to define； Her lighter nature mastered mine； Herself half
given； half withheld； Her lesser spirit still compelled Its tribute from my
franker soul： Sorebel； slave； and worshiper！ I loved her and I
hated her。
I gazed upon her； I； her thrall； And musing； murmured； What if
death
Were just the answer to it all？ Suppose some dainty dagger
quaffed Her life in one deep eager draught？ Suppose some amorous
knife caressed The lovely hollow of her breast？〃 She turned a mocking
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look to mine： She read the thought within my eyne； She held me with
her lookand laughed！
Now who may tell what stirs； controls； And shapes mad fancies into
facts？ What trivial things may quicken souls To irrevocable； swift acts？
Now who has known； who understood； Wherefore some idle thing
May stab with deadlier sting Than well…considered insult could？ May
spur the languor of a mood And rouse a tiger in the blood？
Ah； Christ！had she not laughed just when That fancy came！ 。 。 。 for
then 。 。 。 and then 。 。 。 A sudden mist dropped from the sky；
A mist swept in across the sea 。 。 。 A mist that hid her face from me 。 。 。
A weeping mist all tinged with red； A dripping mist that smelt like
blood 。 。 。 It choked my throat； it burnt my brain 。 。 。 And through it
peered one sallow star； And through it rang one shriek of pain 。 。 。 And
when it passed my hands were red； My soul was dabbled with her
blood； And when it passed my love was dead And tossed upon the
troubled flood。
III MOONSET
But see！ 。 。 。 the body does not sink； It rides upon the tide （A
starbeam on the dagger's haft）； With staring eyes and wide 。 。 。 And now；
up from the darkling sea； Down from the failing moon； Are come