THE MARRIAGE EAST ^^f^k^^^^ B^6 MARIE TUDOR GARLAND UBRARY OF CONGRESS DDDlB^aaBTT Class ES_^b5J3_- Book,-M4 g5 A4e) COPyRIGHT DEPOSIT. THE MARRIAGE FEAST BY 1U MARIE TUDOR GARLAND AUTHOR OF "the POTTER's CLAY," "tHE WINGED SPIRIT," "HINDU MIND TRAINING," ETC. G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK AND LONDON Zbe Iknicfterbocfter press 1920 t^%^' Copyright, 1920 BY MARIE TUDOR GARLAND FEB -7 1921 Printed in the United States of America §)C!.A608269 After man had conceived many gods In his own image. The Woman said: *' The time has come For me to conceive a god. " And the woman conceived, And gave birth to herself. CONTENTS MARRIAGE The Marriage Feast Dawn Sanctuary The Storm Your Touch For Loving you Love Rest, my Sweet Full Moon The Sun's Wooing You Ask me Married . Take me . Wounds God . I Have Understood PAGE 3 6 10 II 12 13 14 15 i6 i8 19 21 22 23 vi CONTENTS PAGE The Eagle ....... 24 Nothing to Say . 25 Why Lose our Way 26 Chance .... . 27 We Two .... . 28 The Empty Cup . 29 Wounded ..... . 30 Lost 31 Take my Dreams . 32 Man • 33 Time .... • 34 What Mighty Wooing . 35 Your Loving and my Despair . 36 In that Ultimate Hour . . 37 II THE MOTHER Woman . 41 I AM A Woman . , . . . 42 Birth . . . . . . 44 Blue . . . . . • 45 My Boy . 46 My Girl . 47 My Bliss .... . 48 CONTENTS vii PAGE Her Plaid .... 49 To MY Son .... 50 Sunburn ..... . 51 To A Son Going to War . 52 Seek Within .... . 53 To my Sons .... . 54 My Child is Dead . . 55 War . 56 It is not True . . 57 This Mother-Love . . 58 Son's Strength . . 59 Son's Love . 60 The Swan .... . 61 The Shadow . 62 The Tree . . . . 63 The Future . . . . 65 Way? Cat Briars When I Go After Pain III THE WOMAN 69 70 71 75 VIU CONTENTS This Rainbow . When the Storm Breaks My Will . Sea Lace . The Spider The Veil . January Thaw, Cape Cod Hands Sleep My Heart Fares South When I Uncaptained Go When I am Dead Memory . Lovers The Poet . The Wind Memories . Deserted Restless . My Dear . . The Golden Gods Autumn Youth Age . Mirage PAGE 76 77 78 79 80 8i 82 84 85 86 87 91 93 94 95 97 98 99 100 lOI 104 105 106 CONTENTS ix IV OTHER WOMEN PAGE Faces iii What is the Sea? . 113 The Loom • 114 To A Butterfly . 116 His Mother 117 Other Tears 118 Other Joy 119 Life 120 The Great Wrong 121 A Farmer's Wife 122 Two Faces 123 The Madonna . 124 Mary 125 The Stranger . 126 The Pathway . . 128 The Harlot's Cup 129 Slowly a Woman Climbs 130 Grieve if you Must 131 Her Love 134 Her Joy .... 135 The Factory Wall . 136 The Thief 138 X CONTENTS PAGE One Woman ....... 139 Your Feet A Stranger Who Lightly Come 140 She Came ....... 141 142 The Mill 143 144 A Song for Women ...... 146 A UTHOR'S NOTE. — A few of the poems in this volume have appeared, in the same or a different form, in two pre- vious volumes. The Potter's Clay and The Winged Spirit. M. T. G. Part I MARRIAGE THE MARRIAGE FEAST I CRY What honour bring you Who stand across the board With turbulent disquietude of eyes? What honour bear you To animate this impending purple feast r Nay, come not to this board To mourn your dead. Come not here with spent unburied dream, Nor with old wrong clinging with lethal breath To unfulfilled song. Nay, if memory haunting cloud the sun, If unseen thongs curb your unrest. If arms are burdened, hands unfree, oppressed. Turn from this board and go, Go lie with death. For here shall be held Highest festival. Here only the free shall give joyously To life that life may be. 3 THE MARRIAGE FEAST You who come in quest of life Must come a pregnant guest. You who would penetrate the veil of life Must come no beggar, but warm With harvest of garnered fruit, Heavy with vintage. So shall the torment of your hunger Be appeased. So shall you bring all beauty here To couch and lie with me; So shall you mirrored see Star-deep All beauty in my eyes; So shall you reach the crested summit of my breast Where speech is lost And memory fades to dream . . . I come no barren comer To this feast. I come with hoarded opulence Of fruity wine, I come with grape new-gathered From the vine, I come resplendent With mighty breasts To bourgeon melody as yet unborn. I come with cool and gleaming thighs 4 THE MARRIAGE FEAST Crowned with power to cradle Your songs and your sighs. I come with limbs Whose strength shall bend and bow To eagle-speed your arrow. I come with arms That shall enfold and hold you, Arms that shall thrust you far and free. With hands that shall turn Your hunger and your drouth, That shall be as lips and mouth. Passion-quelling in the end. I come with hair that shall shield And shelter you by day, And in the night shall be as flame. I come with lips That shall infuse your storm-pressed heart With lightnings for your thunder. I come with eyes where you shall find Sunny fields for leaping, and for play. And shade for sleeping. Eyes where you shall find The gleam of a flying soul That for all your piracy You cannot hold. DAWN All through the years I heard your voice, And I thought that I should find you Just beyond the farther hill; Yet ever you eluded, Seeking the deeper vales. The shades grew darker. And I lost the way. Then when I thought The least to find you, You were the dawning day. SANCTUARY In a night of storm I was carried on a sea of pain. Again and yet again it flung me back Bleeding upon the rocks. But my spirit would not yield, And wore a smile upon its lips. Now at the dawn I lie within the sanctuary of your arms. My spirit weeps at last; It cannot bear the pang of living joy. THE STORM Beloved, in the beauty of your coming To my chamber, Was the sense of a glad day Newly washed in the gold Of the sun's going; There was the hush of waiting Known at the birth of night. As countless silent phantoms creep Along the earth, holding in their hands The shadows they are bringing To veil the eyes of sleep. There was the music Of the many chirping things That sing the silence of the night, And the haunting scent of flowers In some lost and distant dream; The hovering sense of many wings Brushing the stillness of the heart With feathered silence — Wings that flutter and are gone; And there was the beauty of the moon, Which thrust the clouds aside THE STORM That for a moment she might see The sleeping earth. Then, as the wings of night Enfold the day, So did your tender arms Enfold and hold me in the night ; And when the storm crept up the valley, Scattering the leaves. And the trees caught the wind And made it sing, And a few pattering drops Fell from the sheltering eaves, You did love me. And then the titan tempest rose And swept the hills And drove us on its wings to the sea. And the trees sobbed and moaned Beneath the gale, While trees and branches Ready for the reaping Crashed and fell. And the driven rain splashed Against the window panes And came in rivers from the eaves. Then the sea rose from its bed And hurled and lashed The wind-swept, barren shore. And in the storm were scattered, far and wide, The seeds another storm shall reap. 9 YOUR TOUCH Even as in spring, when the ice breaks, And the river is in flood, Singing over rocks. Surging over moss-strewn cUfls To drop from there in darkHng pools, Where diamonds dance and sparkle in the sun, And pearls, one by one Go quivering to and fro. Even such is the music that I know In your touch. FOR LOVING YOU What is it weighs me down to-day, With a weight that is sweet, Like the burden gladly borne For some beloved? Is it the shadow of your nearness, The sense of you too near to me, Which, though it weighs me down, Yet brings with it some comfort ? Or is it just the weight of all my lives I feel oppressing. In years which I would lift And throw aside. To live again that other life Where I so gladly died For loving you. LOVE Love which holds back Something in reserve Will never know The joy of giving, The joy of constant death. REST, MY SWEET Rest with your arm outstretched, my sweet. That I may rest there too. And all the hours that you sleep, I shall be loving you. And while we rest and sleep, my dear, God will hold us two. 13 FULL MOON The moon is full, Sea flooding, Sap flowing. The moon is full, My thoughts winging. My man wooing. The moon is full. 14 THE SUN'S WOOING There is no dalliance here. Here is a titan love that seeks a myriad breasts for wooing, That pierces the Earth with a million ardent spears : Here every ray that enters leaves a fertile womb. 15 YOU ASK ME You ask me if I love you, And I answer that I do. You ask me why I love you, And I find it hard to say. I come to you. You answer every need. Your love is all the reason That my love can give For loving you. Love you always? That I cannot say. It rests with you ; You lead me now, You point the way And I gladly follow While I may. Love is an awakening. Another birth, A closer homing To our mother earth, l6 YOU ASK ME I shall love you always, Yet shall ever seek and follow The brighter light, The fuller love. The larger truth absorbs the lesser, Else why my love for you ? 17 MARRIED You who have given me your name, And with your laws have made me wife, To share your failures or your fame, What proof has made me yours for life ? In spite of all the laws you've made I'm free. I am no part of you. And wait, the last word is not said: You're mine, for I'm myself and you. All through my veins there flows your blood : In you there is no part of me. By force of this my motherhood Through me you live eternally. i8 TAKE ME I ONLY ask that you will Take me, That you make me serve Your will, Use me well or use me ill, I'll not care If you but have your will. I only ask that you will Take me Till you have had your fill. Use me well or use me ill, I'll not care. Try to kill me If you will. I know the woman Here in me Will tame the man in you, And that your tenderness Will be As tender as my own. And when your heart Is stilled 19 TAKE ME And you have had Your fill, You will know your love Was but to serve My will ! WOUNDS Even as the oyster, from the grain Of sand that tortured, Upbuilt the pearl, I captured from the world All the beauty that I found And wound it round my pain, And with it crowned my love. When he tore away The wonder I had brought He could not understand The blood upon his hand. GOD The love I loved you with Is God. I HAVE UNDERSTOOD I MAY not love you As another would, For I have lived too fully, I have understood. I may not love you As another would, For in the heart that I should bring You'd feel the pulse of every woman Who has loved And suffered for her love. I have lived in each. Feeling her pain was mine. I am all these women. So I may not love you As another would. 23 THE EAGLE You Eagle that would be alone And cry your solitude To the day and to the night, And gaze upon the stars That bred you, Dreaming to be aloof, To be ever one and alone, Know you may never, now . . For on a sunlit mountain top You found a mate. Though now you would forget And still would be alone, Your mate has built a nest. 24 NOTHING TO SAY Nothing to say? With an aching heart, and a fevered brain, Nothing to say ? With a heart that bleeds of an endless pain. Nothing to say? With a world of suffering yet to face, With a world of love unsung, Nothing to say? O God, nothing to say. 25 WHY LOSE OUR WAY Nay, Love, why lose our way in words. Why try to understand the things of earth Save through the spirit ? Love like ours has given birth To countless winged thoughts That draw us each to each. Nay, Love, what matters speech With love like this between? What matters anything to us Who have this dream? 26 CHANCE For months I looked for a sign : Some word to tell your mood. And now By some unknown chance, I know. 27 WE TWO This loving may not be unloved, We are together now; We two in the hand of God. We have been alone, Each in a world That knows no pity. This loving may not be unloved. 28 THE EMPTY CUP Why does my love not see The empty cup I am holding up For him to fill? Why does he drink of mine And find good wine To meet his will, And still not see The empty cup I am holding up For him to fill? 29 WOUNDED I AM wounded by an unknown thing That is not I, Brooding with alien wing Here where I lie. 30 LOST Heap flowers on my head. Now that you have lost me Crown me with stone, For this long-loved beauty Sleeps with the dead. Heap flowers on my head. Now that you have lost me Dream of the lip you kissed, Dream of the lost beauty Of the soul you missed. Heap flowers on my head, Now that I am gone. Now that you have lost me Crown me with stone. 31 O TAKE MY DREAMS O TAKE my dreams, And use them — You who have no dreams — Take and crush them, Crush and bruise them. Like the vined fruit; Make of them your wine. So shall you drink And dream, So shall my dreams be fused, So shall the purple of my life Bear fruit. O take my dreams ! 32 MAN Man, loving beauty, woos To overtake and seize; Then, for a moment's ease, Slays the thing he pursues. 33 TIME Time, Man has found some fallen feathers from your wings. He has named this one an hour, that one a day, others years. Collecting them and counting them he sits, Towering above them at his play. So when I catch the flash of sunlight on your wings. And count the years that hours hold And days that are centuries old With nothing after, I hear beyond the walls of space Your pinioned laughter. 34 WHAT MIGHTY WOOING What mighty wooing has been here That brought from out the spheres The earth submissive to the sun! What titan pulse Has thrilled in primal force Before the triumph won! When the earth was young And had but winds for play, She gave birth to mountains, And tore from her living heart Great rivers that the sea might be, And her imperial pulse Was the beating of eons' wings That thundered past her In her dreams. And now the creeping pulse of time Is no deeper than our days and nights, And men forget to dream. 35 YOUR LOVING AND MY DESPAIR I MAY have died, my dear, for all your care; Died between your loving and my despair. You brought your disillusioned heart to rest Between the lordly summits of my breast, And so, warmed and at ease, your loving slept, Giving no word, no sign, nor once upleapt In dream of pilgrimage to reach the snows That crown the path the storm-pressed eagle knows. I may have died, my dear, for all your care, Died between your loving and my despair. 36 IN THAT ULTIMATE HOUR In that ultimate hour, Sweet, When past and future Meet in you and me, My spirit reaches out to you With arms that are outworn, With unseeing eyes, With voice long mute. With lips that ages past Have done with kissing. Then, in that ultimate hour, Sweet, I know why God is silent. Why God neither sees nor speaks. Why those unenfolding arms Have left me free. 37 Part II THE MOTHER 39 WOMAN My mother, Earth, Is plowed And harrowed For the sowing. Like my mother. Earth, I bear the blossoms, I do the growing, I bear the fruit, The seed For sowing. 41 I AM A WOMAN I AM a woman And have lived a woman's way With life. Now am I big with new life Soon to have birth. Take me in your arms And hold me there, For the treasure That I bear Is rare And of great worth. I have travelled Over land and sea, Everywhere life loving me. There is no beauty Of the sky Or earth That does not live in me. Life was prodigal in loving, Life gave his all to me. There is no thought 42 I AM A WOMAN That has come to life But life has given me. There is no further knowledge Of the soul Than life has whispered me. Life tells me There is no other god Than the god that lives in me; I am burdened with the seeds Of my lover's sowing. I know my time has come, So take me in your arms And hold me there, For the treasure That I bear Is rare And worth your knowing. 43 BIRTH As death, with grim Uncertain features hid In formless night, SHps in to draw unto himself The spent and dying year, behold The light, which from his invisible Mantle now shines Upon the new-born year, Who comes with head erect and shining limbs. 44 BLUE To-day the sky Is a glorious blue; I find blue asters too. O sky, where have you too Found this magic blue? You will not tell? Then shall I ask my little girl And she will say, Whose eyes to-day are blue Where yesterday was gray. 45 MY BOY His eyes are wild and close to nature, Understanding things unknown, Things which are in us and beyond us, All of beauty. His features are perfect, Like a young god's; But it is the look That startles you And holds you. 46 MY GIRL Has your slim white body, child, Come a shafted arrow from the sun ? For this brightness of you Dazzles in the whiteness Of the beauty you have won. I would know why You so wonderfully come. Lithe and straight and true ! Swift bearer of some message From the sun ! Speak ! Unloose your tongue. That I and all the world may know Why and whence you come, Whither you shall go. 47 MY BLISS Who sing of kisses and of loves, And passion whence they spring, Have never known my love which proves Their own a lesser thing. When my small girl and I must part, Though brief her clasping be. There is no passion-flowered heart That blooms like hers for me. In my son's arms, while resting still Against his heart, my bliss Exceeds your own ... I could not thrill So to a lover's kiss. 48 HER PLAID On a peg against the wall Hangs her little Scotch-plaid frock, With its white about the throat and sleeves. She hung it there before she went to sleep. Still sweet with the fragrance And warmth of her slim body, How it holds her shape, And takes the contour of her form ! Of late she's grown quite tall. I see the coming woman In her gown upon the wall. 49 TO MY SON Your fair young body- Like a willow wand bends And sways with all the springing grace Of youth, long and lithe in limb, Seeking like the willow reed the sun. If you would be a sturdy willow tree, Set your roots deep in earth, And let me be The water where you bend. For I have seen a wan willow Lean against a brook And take its joy in dreaming. Seen the joy within its look As it found its image in the brook. And though the willow subtly drew Its strength up from the brook, A time came when it gave back What it took, And the willow shook out all its golden leaves And tossed them scattered on the brook. 50 SUNBURN With loins wrapped, Your black body On its back Upon the dunes, And the magic ring Your out-stretched hands Draw around you On the sands, Make of you A black bambino On a yellow plaque. 51 TO A SON GOING TO WAR How may I bear this pain ? Must I see you come wounded home, With all your glowing beauty gone? Must that proud spirit Wear an alien form? How may I bear this pain, I, who have known my heart To ache and bleed, And felt my soul quiver In the very pride of its pain, That you might come A conquering god to earth? Must I, who gave my beauty For your birth, Now see that beauty slain? What man has right to ask For this — again? 52 SEEK WITHIN Child, when in trouble Or in pain, Lock fast your gate And seek the cause within. Thus shall you seize And capture it. Lock fast your gate, Lest the cur escape To sleep, or whine At another's door. 53 TO MY SONS The consecrated passion Of my youth, My will and all my strength I gave to you to use. My task is ended When you have learned There is no greater force Than this — my love for you. I give you all to life ; Life has a greater claim than I. You have a right To your experience, To live, to suffer, and to learn. My task to stand aside. If you have learned To be the god of your own life, And see both heaven and hell. As here and made by you. And know the world Is but the larger self. One heart, one life, one goal, And all humanity The living soul of God, My work is done. 54 MY CHILD IS DEAD My child is dead. Yet, though God has punished, I have not sinned. Nor wronged a human soul In thought or deed. My child is dead. Yes, and they will bury him. Unknowing they will take my life And lay it there with him. My child is dead. Oh show me where the justice, Where the wrong in me! I have failed, I am blind, I cannot see. My child is dead. 55 WAR The hours creep by to-day, A maimed and crippled throng, All that are left to speak Of the winged nights that were, And dawns that marched In stately column, With love triumphant. And with music. Now is their tread The tramp of stumbling feet. Their song a mumbled prayer. These mourning hours, soulless and pale. Struggling to build each day, Cry out against the wrong. 56 IT IS NOT TRUE They came to tell me in the night That you are dead. It is not true ! — For flowers grown by you Still bloom and toss the head. It is not true That you are dead ! The birds you loved now wing Their many-coloured notes To a coming sun, Which pours a golden anthem Out along the spring. How may this be If you are dead? It is not true ! You have out-flown the prison cell We have known you in, That you might fling The spirit of your beauty Out across the world. It is not true That you are dead ! 57 THIS MOTHER-LOVE This mother-love is deeper than you know. Its roots spring from childhood When I dreamed Of what a mother's love might be. It reached the dawn in maidenhood, And in marriage faced the sun. And as its flowers blossomed One by one, its roots went deeper, And when it learned to weep And still to keep its sweetness, I thought the dream complete. And now comes this storm To sweep me, That I may deeper go to seek And find the truth beyond my dream. 58 SON'S STRENGTH To my sons my strength has been a tower At whose feet the lashing sea of life has broken. They have seen its beacon Glowing through my night, And known it there to light their own. Its beam has shown to them the real and the unreal, And they have seen the empty fluttering things of life Fall with burnt wings and drift away. Now do I see each has builded him a tower, A tower greater than my own, A tower whose strength a world shall know. Each son bears now his lamp whose glow Shall carry far to light new worlds, To search new truths, A lamp whose gleam and glow Shall dim my own. To them my lamp burns low. Now shall it go where all burnt candles go; The star my heart now follows Is the truth they bear. Their strength my own. 59 SON'S LOVE One time my son's eyes wore a look That told me his world slept With love between his gaze and mine. Now though I see his love for me still there, Between us lies a newer world I may not enter — One he has made with her. 60 THE SWAN I WAS, I am, I shall be. Breasting the sea, I draw with me These three — I was, I am, I shall be. 6i THE SHADOW Who watch their lengthening shadow on the ground Have turned their faces from the sun. 62 THE TREE You have given all your branches to the winds For harp. With rooted arms you have held the earth, And clasped the sunlight With your leafy hands. You have watched rain drip From your green fingertips. With up-flung head, With laughter and with song, You have challenged All the skies. You have given birth To singing shadows. I have given all my body to a man For joy. My arms have nested babies, My hand has held my welling breast To curling infant lips. Looking down on laughing children I have watched For a while 63 THE TREE Their shadows lengthen, Then faced again the sun, Learning from you To smile and be at peace. And never tire While shadows form and flow . . You have gone deeper into things Than I, You have gone higher. 64 THE FUTURE Along the ages Men have cried Their gods, While women followed With their worship And their praise. Now in recent days One comes and says "I am His Son." Men cry again: He is the One. But a woman cries : "He is my son," And the miracle is done. Yet woman knows Her work undone. Till man shall claim The god as son. 65 Part III THE WOMAN 67 WHY? Why have I This sturdy strength Born of the North, These eyes of steel — Why these things, With this sun-warmed Passion of the South, This sun-wooed Quivering mouth — Why, When I find No steel To challenge mine. No lips To cool my drouth? 69 CAT BRIARS The cat briar leaves Were caught By frost, And turned To olive gold And burnished bronze, The berries Were nile green. When they dream In happier days. The sun Gleams through Green shining leaves, Of jade And fruit Of dusted blue. 70 WHEN I GO When I go, Let none be sad. Let all sing, Sing and be glad. Shed no tears For wasted years, For all my hours Were crowned With flowers, For love Left a halo On my hair, for light, When none was there. Those who knew me Know that I shall live In all of life ; Others will not care. In the spring. When the birds sing, Friends will hear me there, In the call of the quail, 71 WHEN I GO With summer over all the earth, In the waterfall, And laughing brook. In the hay. In the corn shooks, In the vintage. And the harvest. In winter snow and frost, In all the life we know. Sometimes Whispering in the sighing rain; A tear In a mother's pain; Mist shadowing the tryst Of lovers, in the spring: In waves Kissing children's feet; As light in their eyes, And laughter on their hair. Moon-rise, Noonday skies. Dawns, Eventides ; In blue shadows Of hay cocks, On marshes, by the sea; Sand-dunes, and sea grass Silver-hued. 72 WHEN I GO In rocks, Carved by the laughter of the sea, Smooth or rough-hewn, Beaches strewn with kelp And spume; In pools, on the shore. Holding stars; And the far cry Of soaring gulls. Echoing along the cliffs, As they dip and wheel. In the curve of lips, After kissing. In a woman's breast, and hips; In the throb and tumult Of city streets; The pulse and rhythm and hiss Of engines: The touch of bow On violin. Sunlight, Flashing on a wing. The straining muscle Raised with the hammer For the blow. In the grace and curve Of road, and bridge; Happy faces: In all the glad, sad 73 WHEN I GO And glorious ways of life My friends shall find me, — But most surely Shall they find me In the immensity of the sea; There at all times Shall I be. 74 AFTER PAIN After all the pain I wake to-day To hear my heart Sing. It is like A mountain stream After rain In spring, So full it is Of fun And laughter. 75 THIS RAINBOW This rainbow Is a many-coloured bridge By which my dreams May go. 76 WHEN THE STORM BREAKS When the storm breaks And the wind wakes The ghosts of memory And dream, And sobbing notes come SHpping from the eaves, Then I will rise And go into the night To meet the tempest. And it shall tear and strip me. For I know the storm Will reap in me The dead things And give the living wings. n MY WILL My will is no giant thing; It is but a child. Yet its arm girdles a world, And in its hand are stars. 78 SEA LACE Each breaking wave Leaves great bands Of woven lace Upon the sands, Torn and scattered By the next wave's Ruthless hands. 79 THE SPIDER You wove a cobweb through the night Your dream of life and beauty Hanging by a thread. So do I seize my right To draw through my own night My dream To hang and gleam Above my head. 80 THE VEIL A MAGIC veil Broods over the earth. Spring is here, The time of loving, And of sowing. Of birth And growing. 8i JANUARY THAW, CAPE COD Held fast in claws of frost, The earth Hes sere, When from the south a whisper comes Of spring elsewhere, Then silent the winter thaw Steals among all living things, Bringing to the land release. Singing, many-tongued. Again the glory of the autumn wakes In scarlet oak, in faun-hued bracken; Golden pines challenge sun and sky ; Paper leaves cling to beech trees; Grey boles of willow by the lake Hold golden branches tipped with flame; Salt marshes raise their tawny heads. Shaking them free of ice. Once more to stretch their arms in bluer seas. Where cat-briar weaves its tracery of green. Buds on bushes flush to rose, dreaming of spring. Scattered oak leaves cling and cluster, 82 JANUARY THAW, CAPE COD A mass of autumn's afterglow, Amber, flame and gold. Fields of ochre gleam in silence. In silence sing. Emerald crops of winter wheat toss A paean to the sun, a prayer, a benison. Flocking birds hovering await the spring, A robin calls. Beyond the dunes Trumpets and thunders The Sea. 83 HANDS From rock and cliff and crag, From the softest sands, From granite, peat and slag I sense emerging hands. Hands that from the night Reach out to find the day. Blind, unseeing might Making its way. 84 SLEEP Hymn no joy of sleep to me Who lay long years Awake beside a sleeping man. . ,' I was brave from day to day, Wearing my loneliness as a crown; But when night came I was again a beggar, Gnawing at the grief The sleeping stranger gave. 85 MY HEART FARES SOUTH My heart fares south to-night On wings of dream ... There, where the spring new-born Is sweet with scent of earth And fragrant flowers, My spirit wanders, And I dream . . . Soon the spring grown brave Will northward creep to me, With warm and tender hands Will feel her way along the hills, Trailing as she comes her mantle green Wrought with jasmine and cherry bloom. Her touch will wake the earth, A thousand springs will live again in her, A thousand springs in me will answer. 86 WHEN I UNCAPTAINED GO When I uncaptained go Out into the night Let none weep for me, And let no alien hands Touch me in my last sleep; Only the hands of him Who loved me. He will remember. 87 WHEN I AM DEAD I HOPE that none Will place dead flowers Above my head For grace, When I am dead, No garland that will fade, No stone Disfigured by a name; Let me wear instead The glory of the whole Wide universe As crown Above my head. 88 MEMORY While days were weaving into nights, Nights into days, I ran with laughter at your side — Eternity a dancing faun Along the wide way, Between the walls to-morrow Made with yesterday. Lying still. Warmed by the sun Upon the hill, You found an ancient skull And jesting flung it wide. Then called to me again To come and run At your side. You did not know I one time buried deep Below this hill An old dull pain — And so felt perhaps this MEMORY Passion-emptied skull Might once have throbbed Enthroned above the lips That mine had kissed. 90 LOVERS Sleeping I float upon a darkening sea, Deep-cargoed with unravished dream. Lovers, as beacon-swords of light, Reach out on every side Across the sea. Piercing the night To come to me. Far out across the distant wide Death's wings sweep up. They goad and lash the sea, They rend the night with flame, Oncoming to compass me. Sleeping I sink beneath this weight Of heavy dreaming. Bruised by the clash of flame, Stabbed with the gleam of swords. Along the sea, While over me In gold and scarlet thread, Cobwebbed above my head, Upbuilds a sheet of fire. 91 LOVERS Sleeping I sigh, Glad to go, Glad to die. Lying so, With all this fiery gold Fold on fold Above my head . . . I open wide my eyes To find my lover in my bed. 92 THE POET Who would place the laurel on his brow To crown him poet, have not found him. The voice that sings is not his own, It is the voice of all the years, The countless years. Since first the breath of man Answered to the urge within, and stirred Man himself the poet. Here one but speaks for him Even as the weavers weave for him. Even as he who wields the plough-share Ploughs for him. And he who would wear the laurel On his brow, Has not found the truth, Believes the songs are his, His alone the voice that cries Solitary in the wilderness. 93 THE WIND Who am I, Wanderer in your night, Who stir your leaves To murmur in the dark To stars? Who am I, Who lift and peer Beneath your greenery, Who listen As you gleam And glisten? Who am I But a mood To rouse you to reveal Another self — Wanderer in your night- Who am I ? . . . Who are you? 94 , MEMORIES Is it a storm I hear upon the hill Or thunder of old pain that rages And will not yield to time's assuages? Again that flare and flash ! . . . Nay, all is still. And yet — my cabin quivers . . . or I dream, Conscious of prowling memories that shake My strength. Hush . . . Hark . . . The wind is in the brake . . . Or footsteps come across the floor. ... I seem To hear a hand along the door. . . . Hush! . . . Hear The sob, the tear, the rain along the eaves. The rush of flying wind among the leaves. That human sigh within. Hush, hark again, for here The room throbs and murmurs, while near and far Old memories rise and flash asunder. . . . Grip and clash again in crash of thunder. . . Is there no force in heaven to out-star The starriest star, to out-stay these ghosts 95 MEMORIES Of thought and dream haunting these nights and days? Has heaven no self-appointed ways To curb the tumult of these wandering hosts ? Again! . . by the bed ... I hear a voice long dead . . . Nay! I'll not stay within. I'll fly and face The storm outside! ... I go, and find the grace Of a still night with stars above my head. 96 DESERTED How vast, how empty- Are the reaches Of this deserted bed. How lonely; It is the loneliness of space I cannot face. It teaches Elemental things to me, Who thought me wise. 97 RESTLESS Not be restless ? Ask the beach not to burn When the sea has left it; Ask the tide not to turn; Tell the day Not to leave us, And the night to stay ! 98 MY DEAR My name was so beautiful On your lips; Speak it sometimes In the night, And I shall hear; Whisper to the night "My dear." 99 THE GOLDEN GODS With all my being in my song There are no gods along the road to fear. Evil is here where dead men bury dead, Onward there is no evil way. Echo After echo of my song wings on ahead. The golden gods are calling, I must go. AUTUMN The pillars of my gate Are aflame With leaves. In spring, When they were green, They crept unseen Along the garden wall. Now the note they sing Is the swan-song Of the spring, The note, whose memory Shall cling Beyond the snows, And meet The blue bird's wing. II Among the vines Climbing On the cottage eaves, I see to-day AUTUMN Some dripping Crimson leaves. They speak to me Of hearts That bleed In anguish over seas. Ill The old witches In the corn shocks Shake their heads And look the other way; Sad, they wave Their withered hands From tattered rags. In the sun, In serried rows They come, they go, Bowed and old. Yet we know Beneath the dun they wear, Their arms are full of gold. IV The mill-pond Sleeps in peace. All summer long It was a gleaming lake AUTUMN Of greens and blues, Now it mirrors autumn tints, And bears upon its breast of blue An argosy of ships With sails of many hues. On the mountain pass The snow clings To autumn leaves; Snow, Gleaming gold, Showing green, Glowing crimson. Though Autumn fled Swift-footed From the frost, I know she passed With bleeding feet Along the snow. Where I tread The path is red. 103 YOUTH Youth, you and I have been long together. Now must you go your way, I mine. I did not think so late to have you with me, Yet you have stayed, Perhaps because you loved me. Now must you go your way, I mine. The beauty of the singing ways We have come, The winged days we shared. And the nights with their golden hours, Shall shine upon my path And make it seem less grey. But the days will be strange without you. The nights will be long. Now must you go your way, I mine. 104 AGE As I pass, Sometimes in amaze I stand before my glass And smile, gazing Incredulous at the ways Of youth smiling back at me. Then look beyond Where, grim, behind me, Poised, in silence waiting — Stands my shadow. Though I will not see, I know My shadow never smiles. 105 MIRAGE (Woman to Man) I AM lying With the vast earth At my back. It is upholding me. The lure of the earth Is in my eyes. Through me you strive and drive To reach the earth. In seeming triumph And with song, Ever you rise to the encounter. Though you have conquered me, Age after age. You have not won the earth. Though you come on, Renewing in each age The ancient struggle to win through, When your years are spent I am lying here io6 MIRAGE With the vast earth At my back; I am here Between the earth and you. 107 Part IV OTHER WOMEN 109 FACES Have you pulled the veils away From lonely faces, And seen dark corridors Leading to silent places? Have you peered in eyes that weep, And seen the solitude They keep ? Have you read the lines On faces that are grey And guessed what would soften These away? Have you known the eyes That pass alight and glowing, Leaving a shadow In their going? Have you seen the joy Of dream fulfilled. The curving of the lip That love has caught And stilled? So are you blessed indeed — So have you learned the need FACES To pull the veils away, To find the day Behind the night, The night behind the day. WHAT IS THE SEA What is the sea ? It is the tears We women weep That love may be. "3 THE LOOM Once, long ago, you placed within my hands, Beloved, The golden threads shorn from your baby head. Then was I again a mother, Feeling the joy, the pain, the hope Born of that other who gave you birth. And as I held these threads of gold My thoughts turned golden, Sweeping back across the years, Until your own sweet mother Lived for me, and her heart throbbed with mine To hear you voice such tender memories. And all this gold I wove into my dream. what gold I had for weaving ! Such gold was never seen upon the loom of time. 1 took for design an old-world pattern, Such as maids and mothers weave 114 THE LOOM When their hearts sing to them, And they conceive. With my golden thoughts I used the golden threads From your baby head to weave into my dream. And when at the last you asked for them, I faced the task of seeking every thread you claimed. And the old-time pattern that I wove Is rent, and wet with tears, And all its threads are scattered to the winds. There are no days, no nights, Only the patient years. 115 TO A BUTTERFLY While your wings Flash the sunlight, And memory clings To the quivering touch of wind That lifted and pursued you Through the blue, You do as women do, You give to life Your wings. You give in ecstasy To unborn things. ii6 HIS MOTHER Strange woman of lost dreams Haunting my days and my nights With your sweet presence, What may I do for you ? What rests undone that love can do? I have come to you in silent thought, To you I have brought my grief, And always in my pain Your arms sustain me. And when I weep you dry my tears. Yet in your silent presence The voice of my lost dream Taunts my loneliness. And tells me of my beloved. Seeking too, through you, That lost and cherished dream. O show me the way! Strange woman of lost dreams. 117 OTHER TEARS When I am radiant in my joy, And feel no happiness outstrips my own, When friends and life conspire To pour into my lap Their countless blessings, And all my heart's a song, I know that somewhere in the world A child is dying, A mother weeps. New life is struggling To the light. ii8 OTHER JOY Though I am prostrate weeping mother's tears And feel that there can be no greater loss, No pain to equal mine, I know that somewhere else Are many hearts rejoicing, Wedding bells are pealing, A bride trips home, Somewhere a child is singing. Though I weep. 119 LIFE She dams black patches On his socks of grey, ' And white on black. She loves him in her way, I darn his socks of grey, With grey, His black with black. I too love him in my way. In his way He loves another — Her who will not darn his socks Black or grey. THE GREAT WRONG O WOMEN, weep not For the sons ye bore, But weep for the great wrong Done to love Through War. A FARMER'S WIFE I'm alone tonight. From the sea The moon has risen Mellow and full. As it climbs, the bay steals its colour; A tree shows against the moonlight, Where turkeys are roosting for the night. From the meadow, grazing in silence, A flock of sheep passes Like a mass of drifting cloud. I hear the call of a mallard, The honking of wild geese Flying south. In the house the fire glows, My candle sputters, A cricket sings upon the hearth. My man snores. TWO FACES I SAW two faces in a crowd, One wrapped in fur, over-fed, Gone soft from indolence, The other lean, hungry-eyed, Shivering with bared head. Neither smiled. . . . One wore jewels around her neck. She whose spirit had not died Bore slumbering jewels in her eyes. 123 THE MADONNA With babe on arm and weary load That she had carried through the rain, And clothes all muddied, hat awry, She waited for the evening train. Her eyes fell dully on the crowd; There was no light in them to see. No faith, no remnant gleam of hope : Her eyes spoke only tragedy. And yet all eyes that turned from hers Lay hostile on her child that wailed And broke the peace. ... A mother, I Knew that this mother's milk had failed. And took the child from her tired arm And gave it milk from my own breast. . I know no artist yet has ever caught The real Madonna with her child at rest. 124 MARY I WOULD not paint a young and fair Madonna, Mother of the infant child. I would paint the mother of the man, The woman who has felt pain. And suffered for her truth; Who has made a glory of her wrong Bearing it with courage and with pride; The one who can smile and keep her faith When Christ and child have died. 125 THE STRANGER She scorned me passing, As I washed the floor; Later I was but a human spring Which opened wide a door That she might enter in. When she met me in my diamonds And my pearls, she thought me fair. And then she smiled and knew me. She claimed me as her friend. Yet another day when I met her in the street And asked her for some bread That I might feed my starving child, She turned her eyes away. As I staggered past her, spent and weary Of my load, one freezing day, She would not see me pass, She was blind and would not see. When once I flaunted my way as a harlot, we met. And again she scorned me utterly. Nor did she know me coming of another race; I was a stranger to her always, 126 THE STRANGER With black or yellow face : Again when I laughed and danced In the joy of heedless youth She drove my joy away. And when a crippled child Cried out in its pain, her laughter Drowned its voice. I thought her wild Not to know this child was hers. Poor stranger! Can she not see She lives in every other woman As every other woman lives in her and me ? 127 THE PATHWAY A SINGLE narrow path Led me through the pines To the summit of a hill. And there I found a mansion Gaunt, ghostly and alone, A dim light only in a distant wing But when the seasons came again, I took once more the path And found an open way Trodden by many feet. The sun was everywhere; And when I reached the summit Where once the mansion stood There was now a solitary hut. The sunlight played With the shadows on the shingles; And through the open window A voice came soft and low. The voice of a woman singing. 128 THE HARLOT'S CUP A STRANGE woman From an Eastern land Took my gold, and Looking at my hand, Told me my love Had been untrue, Untrue to me. She was overbold, and said, "To drown some memory And ease his thirst. He stooped to drink From a harlot's cup." And when in wrath I rose to leave her, She flung a ribald laugh To follow after me. And said: "The harlot's curse Be on his head!" 129 SLOWLY A WOMAN CLIMBS Slowly a woman climbs the steps That lead her to her home. She drags her feet. The house looks dead, its windows Stare empty-eyed into the street, And from the way the woman walks I know her eyes give back The window's stare. And by the way she turns the handle Of the door and goes within, I know the woman's soul Is not in there. 130 GRIEVE IF YOU MUST Grieve if you must, Who do not feel The bursting bud and leaf. Grieve for your dead, For hopes that now are wingless, For dreams whose lips are sealed; Grieve if you must. Your bowed vision Sees but the woe Your folded wings entomb. Grieve if you must, But first lift your face to the sun; Then shall you run With perfumed hours, Through sunny fields Flushing into flower. Then shall you see The plumed song of birds Tinting the wings of spring. And the full choir Of resonant colour 131 GRIEVE IF YOU MUST Shall hymn you back to other springs, And on to new. Grieve if you must, But first lift up your head, To see the fallen limb. From this lost thing, Yielding itself from hour to hour To the spring. Watch the new life Leaping into flower. Grieve if you must, But first lift up your face To see the heavens weep. They weep that life may be, That brooks may sing. And rivers run full-hearted To the sea. Grieve if you must, But first lift up your eyes To where the turgid oak-bud Flings the dry leaf; See how the wind Takes the dead thing To laugh and dance with it. Singing as it goes. All winter long 132 GRIEVE IF YOU MUST The wind has made its song With these sere wings, Chanting from every tree A thousand strong. Above the snows Forest rang to forest, Chiming the spring They were to usher in. Grieve if you must : The sun will make A rainbow Of your tears. 133 HER LOVE Her love, she said, was deep. Yet would she weep To see him share His joy, Or find elsewhere. 134 HER JOY Her joy was for a day. Yet into that day Were woven tears, And the sorrow Of another woman's Years. 135 THE FACTORY WALL I WAS happy in the old place. In the yard was sun. Things there grew straight and true, Green, with flowers peeping through. A brook crept by. Sometimes boisterous with noise Of warning tears. But in the sun, Dreaming, I was happy. That was long ago. Now by the old place A factory is built. Where was once the sun Is now the blank face of a wall ; Blindly, my thought tries to grope Beyond it seeking hope, But finds the wall too high. The yard is full of soot and smoke, Where things grow crooked; Flowers choke and die. There is no green to look at Any time. 136 THE FACTORY WALL The brook, now, is a ditch of slime Which smells and cries its shame. Here, each year, a baby came; They came crooked, too; And died : every one. There are now six graves In the grim old yard Where once slim lilies grew. I am not happy now; I can no longer dream; Something in me craves The sun. And you, You others, On the other side the wall. Are you blinded by the sun ? Do your babies wither? Does your spirit fade? Because you've all the sunlight? Because you've lost the shade? 137 THE THIEF She came to you, she said, To bring you gifts. You welcomed her; Your eyes shone Upon her face. Her gifts, her youth, her grace. When you waked You found she had gone. You felt a loss, A sense of wrong. You did not know. Until you came again To sing to me. She had robbed you Of the gift of song. 138 ONE WOMAN She took no favour in the dark. Those who brought their gifts Brought them, one by one, by day. So, in taking, she stood With eyes that faced the sun. Eyes that none might question; She took alone from him Whose eyes could meet her own, Unfearful of the light. She took no gift Save for the giver's sake, And for the right of giving. She would not take, As others do. Those little gifts That shuffle, fearful of the light; She would not give to those Who hide their gifts Under the skirt of night. 139 YOUR FEET She ran to meet you. You were so swift, So fleet in coming, She thought your feet Were winged and sandalled; You were to her as sunlight Streaming through an opened door. She never dreamed That in your going You would leave this clay Upon her garment. This clay upon her floor. 140 SHE CAME Harlot hearted, With laughter And with song, With eyes that danced Unashamed Above her flaming breasts, The woman came. As. she passed, The man followed after. I wonder if he thought, I wonder if she said. Some word Of her lover Two weeks dead? . . . 141 A STRANGER She held a lordly favour Only a prince might name. She gave it to a stranger, One to me unknown. Now I know him, . . .' For he left the hill. And came, Under cover of the night. Tome. 142 THE MILL If the mill that grinds the corn should break, The stream would still run on and women bake 143 WHO LIGHTLY COME I STAND and watch them come and go, These women, who so lightly give And take according to their mood, Unheedful of the deeper depth in you. With the glow of love upon you, You are to them the beacon In a midnight sea. Like lost birds Drifting with the storm, They fling their empty lives Against the light they see, And fall with bruised wing. Never once touching This inner thing in you. These have no heed, no thought Of you and of the spirit's need, These dream not of the rocks Below the beacon's flame. Rocks laid in years Of patient toil together, And bound by strength of friendship The battering sea cannot dislodge. 144 WHO LIGHTLY COME They have no heed of these. They have no need to know Who come so lightly And so lightly go. 145 A SONG FOR WOMEN I WOULD be off and away, I would be on the dunes With the sea and the salt, With the smell of the kelp, On my lips, the taste of the spray. Watching the birds of the sea Dip to the blue, and soar. I would weep to the tune Of the ruthless wave Swept in from the deep Of the seamen's grave. And dance on the shore To the shade of myself. Dance in the light of the sun, Dance as never a one Has danced — Weep as never a one has wept. For I am the wind And I am the wave. I am the earth, the sea and the sun. For I am the womb and I am the grave, 146 A SONG FOR WOMEN I the cradle, I the tomb. I am the joy, the pain. I have died these things to find ; I have died to live again. I would be off and away, I would be on the dunes With the sea and the salt. With the smell of the kelp. On my lips, the taste of the spray. 147