قراءة كتاب Two Fishers, and Other Poems

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قراءة كتاب Two Fishers, and Other Poems

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‏اللغة: English

Two Fishers, and Other Poems

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg

الصفحة رقم: 8

class="big">TALKING WATER

Last night I walked in the fern lands
And heard the words of the brooks.
What need has a weary man's spirit
With phrases from books!

The timid fish splashed in the shallows,
The sad wind sobbed in the reeds;
And I soothed with the whispering water
A wound that bleeds.

THE END

A poet lay dead where two red frontiers meet;
And many birds fluttered about his feet.
He had unfurled his last wild madrigal,
And winds had borne it where the dead leaves fall.

The thrush, May's mottled elf, the minstrel, sang
More harsh than was his wont. The blackbird rang
Strange sobbing woodland bells. The finch so sweet
Lay with glazed eye, and raised each shattered wing,
And cried in sudden pain, but could not sing.

The sparrow twittered, "'Tis dark under the eaves,
And sad-eyed Margot sits at home and grieves."
The lark said, "God is angry in bright Heaven.
I saw Him once,—a great white fluttering bird
With beautiful broad wings that oft are heard
When the wind beats the blue nave of the skies.
I saw Him perching high upon the moon
With the most dreadful anguish in His eyes.
He flaps His wings, and tries, and wildly tries;
But He can sing no longer.
It is still in Heaven.
It is still in forest and on hill.
The green leaves wither, and the world grows chill."

A SINN FEINER

I once had the trustiest comrade—
God grant he thinks kindly of me—
And we always stood shoulder to shoulder
When a tossing wind troubled Life's sea.
He was like the marsh fire in fair weather;
Though in foul, we made merry together.

But his soul was knit to the whirlwind—
The fen mists but shrouded the flame—
And I knew not our friendship's attachment
Till the day that the whirlwind came,
For I saw our lives broken asunder
And watched him away with the thunder.

Men said he consorted with traitors
And marshalled the beasts of the sty.
But I know that mere mischief makers
Don't joyfully go forth to die.
And I've lost a friend like a brother,
And never I'll know such another.

THE FOREIGN LEGIONARY, 1911

He had just come out of prison, and he stood and scowled apart,
The old lust 'neath his ragged coat, and the cold hate in his heart;
And he peered to right and left through the cruel sleet and rain,
Then dived into the nearest street to rob and steal again.

He lay wounded in the desert where the thirsty sand gleamed red,
Arab spearmen thrusting at the dying and the dead;
He had left the shrunken ranks to save a comrade in the rear;
And he raised himself and cursed them; and went down beneath a spear.

He lies and stares at Heaven through a cloud of crows and kites;
While round him prowl the jackals in the lurid tropic nights.
And he'll slowly bleach to powder 'neath the sunlight's livid scroll,
—The man they chased from Europe whom the world denied a soul.

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