Читать книгу: «The House of the Trees & Other Poems», страница 8

Words

 
I LIKE those words that carry in their veins
The blood of lions. “Liberty” is one,
And “Justice,” and the heart leaps to the sun
When the thrilled note of “Courage! Courage!” rains
Upon the sorely stricken will. No pains
Survive when “Life” and “Light,” twin glories, run
From the quick page to some poor soul undone,
And beggar by their glow all other gains.
 
 
How splendidly does “Morning” flood our night!
How the word “Ocean” drowns our insect cares,
And drives a strong wind through our housed-up grief.
While “Honor” lifts us to the mountain height;
And “Loyalty” the heaviest burden bears
As lightly as a tree a crimson leaf.
 

The Wind of Death

 
THE wind of death that softly blows
The last warm petal from the rose,
The last dry leaf from off the tree,
To-night has come to breathe on me.
 
 
There was a time I learned to hate
As weaker mortals learn to love;
The passion held me fixed as fate,
Burned in my veins early and late—
But now a wind falls from above—
 
 
The wind of death, that silently
Enshroudeth friend and enemy.
 
 
There was a time my soul was thrilled
By keen ambition’s whip and spur;
My master forced me where he willed,
And with his power my life was filled,
But now the old-time pulses stir
 
 
How faintly in the wind of death!
That bloweth lightly as a breath.
 
 
And once, but once, at Love’s dear feet
I yielded strength and life and heart;
His look turned bitter into sweet,
His smile made all the world complete—
The wind blows loves like leaves apart—
 
 
The wind of death, that tenderly
Is blowing ’twixt my love and me.
 
 
O wind of death, that darkly blows
Each separate ship of human woes
Far out on a mysterious sea,
I turn, I turn my face to thee.