IV. NIGHTMARE

     'Draw three cards, and I will tell your future . . .
     Draw three cards, and lay them down,
     Rest your palms upon them, stare at the crystal,
     And think of time . . . My father was a clown,
     My mother was a gypsy out of Egypt;
     And she was gotten with child in a strange way;
     And I was born in a cold eclipse of the moon,
     With the future in my eyes as clear as day.'

     I sit before the gold-embroidered curtain
     And think her face is like a wrinkled desert.
     The crystal burns in lamplight beneath my eyes.
     A dragon slowly coils on the scaly curtain.
     Upon a scarlet cloth a white skull lies.

     'Your hand is on the hand that holds three lilies.
     You will live long, love many times.
     I see a dark girl here who once betrayed you.
     I see a shadow of secret crimes.

     'There was a man who came intent to kill you,
     And hid behind a door and waited for you;
     There was a woman who smiled at you and lied.
     There was a golden girl who loved you, begged you,
     Crawled after you, and died.

     'There is a ghost of murder in your blood—
     Coming or past, I know not which.
     And here is danger—a woman with sea-green eyes,
     And white-skinned as a witch . . .'

     The words hiss into me, like raindrops falling
     On sleepy fire . . . She smiles a meaning smile.
     Suspicion eats my brain; I ask a question;
     Something is creeping at me, something vile;

     And suddenly on the wall behind her head
     I see a monstrous shadow strike and spread,
     The lamp puffs out, a great blow crashes down.
     I plunge through the curtain, run through dark to the street,
     And hear swift steps retreat . . .

     The shades are drawn, the door is locked behind me.
     Behind the door I hear a hammer sounding.
     I walk in a cloud of wonder; I am glad.
     I mingle among the crowds; my heart is pounding;
     You do not guess the adventure I have had! . . .

     Yet you, too, all have had your dark adventures,
     Your sudden adventures, or strange, or sweet . . .
     My peril goes out from me, is blown among you.
     We loiter, dreaming together, along the street.

     V. RETROSPECT

     Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops,
     Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass.
     A flock of pigeons rises with blue wings flashing,
     Rises with whistle of wings, hovers an instant,
     And settles slowly again on the tarnished grass.

     And one old man looks down from a dusty window
     And sees the pigeons circling about the fountain
     And desires once more to walk among those trees.
     Lovers walk in the noontime by that fountain.
     Pigeons dip their beaks to drink from the water.
     And soon the pond must