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diff --git a/old/63262-0.txt b/old/63262-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 630868d..0000000 --- a/old/63262-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1555 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hoofs of Pegasus, by M. Letitia Stockett - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Hoofs of Pegasus - -Author: M. Letitia Stockett - -Release Date: September 22, 2020 [EBook #63262] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOOFS OF PEGASUS *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Paul Marshall and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes: - - Underscores “_” before and after a word or phrase indicate _italics_ - in the original text. - Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals. - Typographical errors have been silently corrected. - - - - - THE HOOFS OF PEGASUS - - BY - M. LETITIA STOCKETT - - 1923 - THE NORMAN, REMINGTON COMPANY - PUBLISHERS BALTIMORE - - Copyright, 1923, by - THE NORMAN, REMINGTON COMPANY - - Published November, 1923. - - PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. - - TO - MARY SHIPLEY MILLS - - _The thanks of the author are due to Winfred - Douglas for his criticism and help in arranging - the material in this book; and to the editors - of Poetry (Chicago), Contemporary Verse, The - Literary Review and The Bowling Green for - permission to include in this collection the - poems which first appeared in these magazines._ - - - - -TABLE OF CONTENTS - - - PEGASUS 13 - IN OCTOBER 14 - SLEEP 15 - FREE 16 - OUR LADY OF UNDERSTANDING 17 - AT EVENTIDE 18 - SACRAMENT 19 - TRUTH IN A WELL 20 - SILENCE 21 - JEWELS 22 - THE POOL 23 - LARKSPUR 24 - SOUNDS 25 - TO SALARI’S MADONNA 26 - THE BATHERS 27 - AT THE SYMPHONY 28 - WEDDING SONG 29 - FEBRUARY 30 - TO THE FOUR ARCHANGELS 31 - A PRISONER 32 - AFTERWARD 34 - THE ASCENT OF ISHTAR 35 - DISCOVERY 37 - POMEGRANATES 38 - TO BOTTICELLI’S VENUS 39 - HAGAR 40 - THE PIPER 41 - THE JUDAS TREE 42 - WAITING 43 - THE LAST FURROW 44 - HORSE CHESTNUTS 46 - THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER 47 - THE FALLOW FIELDS 48 - THE PATTERAN 49 - TO A MUSICIAN 50 - TEMPO 51 - TO SCRIABINE: L’EXTASE 52 - ADAM ASLEEP 53 - AN OLD HOUSE 54 - MOONRISE 55 - CAGED 56 - - - - -THE HOOFS OF PEGASUS - - - - -PEGASUS - - - Once in a saffron twilight, rich with the sound of bells, - In a dim meadow straying, high on the lonely fells, - I saw Pegasus, winged Pegasus, cropping the asphodels. - - His neck was clothed with thunder, his feet with strength were shod; - Terrible in his beauty, he grazed on the starry sod, - A white, untameable beauty, a stallion fit for a god. - - Meekly he ranged unfettered; his wings were wet with dew, - And where they trailed in the blossomy grass, a misty rainbow grew, - Those strong, exultant pinions that trample the windy blue. - - Then suddenly he raised his head. I felt the pulsing beat - Of his valiant hoofs. He sprang on the track of the stars, unleashed - and fleet. - I was alone; but deep in the grass was the print of his deathless - feet. - - - - -IN OCTOBER - - - In a shower of ruddy gold - From a thinning tree - Jove comes down. - Naked, brown, - The earth lies Danae. - - Still she lies with hushed breath; - Through each dreaming clod - Runs the fire - Of desire, - Passion of a god. - - Danae lies in her dark tower. - On a March hillside - Springs the wheat— - There the feet - Of young Perseus stride. - - - - -SLEEP - - - Last night I slid into the sea of sleep, - Translucent, cool and deep. - I left my dusty self upon the sand - Like an old garment. Naked, free, - I felt the waves close over me; - The curious, eager water pressed - Against the white curve of my breast. - Then deep, deep - Through the green depths I sank - Into the sea of sleep. - - This morning I rose out of the dark tide, - I rose through darkness, and there was no light, - No radiance to illume - The dusk; only the pallid gloom - Of sleep. First green, then blue, - Then the thin water parted, and the sun shone through. - There lay my body; strangely it was I. - - What did I bring back from the soundless deep - From that grey, ancient sea of sleep:— - - The glint of sunken gold, the plaintive knell - Of some drowned bell, - Remembrance vague and dim - Of ghostly argosies, - The misty shores of far Hesperides, - The wraith of mermaids beckoning white and slim, - The faint sea-music of a curvéd shell. - - - - -FREE - - - I am a beggar maiden, - I sleep beneath a thorn, - At night my tree is thick with stars, - I see the slender horn - Of the young moon, - I see the clean - Essential light of morn. - - The King Cophetua and his Queen - Ride by disdainfully; - He glitters like a dragonfly, - A scornful mouth has she— - A curled red leaf— - Yet she was once - A beggar maid like me. - - The spearmen ride before them. - My path no mortal knows; - A ruby smoulders on her brow, - My thicket yields a rose. - Dance, dusty feet! - I’m glad I’m not - The maid Cophetua chose. - - - - -OUR LADY OF UNDERSTANDING - - - Our Lady understands - Though prayerful are her folded hands; - Her face is pale - Within the azure shadow of her veil. - Here in this shrine she seems remote, apart, - For the dim centuries have quenched her fire, - The slow years molded her to their desire. - Ah, still she knows - The ecstasy that glows - In my wild heart! - Once, not submissive, meek - With pensive brow and duteous cheek, - There came a cry exultant, strong; - “My soul doth magnify the Lord!” - Clear as a ringing sword - I hear her song. - In high humility - She knew herself to be - The Chosen of God, the Gate of the Divine. - I kneel before her shrine, - I gaze upon her tranquil face, - Hail Mary, full of grace! - I, too, know Love, - And I am humble, proud, and wise. - Our Lady understands - All joy, all woe; - The Son of God she laid to rest - Upon her breast, - She knew the wounded Hands, - And there is nothing else to know. - - - - -AT EVENTIDE - - - I shall light the candle, - You will play for me - In the winter twilight - A quiet melody. - - Let there be no sorrow - In your song, or tears, - Let all grief be ended, - All the iron years. - - Set our love to music, - Like a rose in June, - All the summer’s beauty - In one slender tune. - - - - -SACRAMENT - - - As up and down the fields I went, - The fields of trembling wheat, - Under the high blue heavens of June - In summer’s poppied heat, - I worked at homely common tasks - Sharp stubble ’neath my feet. - But I was not alone; I knew - A comradeship most sweet. - - For as I gathered up the sheaves - And bound the heavy grain, - One whispered: “Yea, the world needs Food; - Hungry it goes, and fain - Am I to be its Bread, and give - My Body for its pain. - For this I lay in the dark earth - Through sun and singing rain.” - - Into the vineyard I was sent, - There One was keeping tryst. - I cut the grapes—how beautiful - Their bloomy amethyst! - He said “This is my Blood, the Wine - Poured for the world, ye wist. - In wheat and grape ye work with me - To make my Eucharist.” - - - - -TRUTH IN A WELL - - - I peered into a well, and saw - The blue, blue eye of God - Look into mine far from the sun, - Far from the friendly sod. - - And suddenly I was afraid— - The old wives’ tales are true— - God is the truth hid in a well, - How dread His gaze, how blue! - - - - -SILENCE - - - We are still; - There are no words. - Across the sky - A wedge of birds - Flies northward. Brown and thinned, - A brittle leaf rasps in the wind. - The sun creeps on from tree to tree. - - We are still. - Were a word spoken, - Like a troubled pool - Is silence broken. - Better far be dumb. - There are depths no stone could plumb; - Circles widen endlessly. - - - - -JEWELS - - - Emerald, ruby, amethyst, - Sardius, beryl, topaz, jade; - All the ramparts round high Heaven - Of these shining stones are made. - - But to beggars who must trudge - Parched roads with weary feet, - God has flung His jewels down - In the very city street. - - In this meager dusty square - Lindens bud in emerald mist - Lilacs burdened with perfume - Bloom in heavenly amethyst. - - Here is water crystal clear, - Virgin jade is not more green. - At the pool’s edge Judas trees - Starred with ruby blossoms lean. - - Emerald, topaz, amethyst, - Glittering unearthly bright, - Scattered by the hand of God, - Beryl, sardius, chrysolite. - - - - -THE POOL - - - There is a pool - Silent, dark and still, - It holds the patterns of the trees - The polished lacquered traceries - Until a whimpering breeze - Breaks the design at will. - - And through those waters dart - Eyeless fish and blind, - Some silver coloured as a star - Or crimson as a bloody scar, - Sinister their beauties are - Like mad thoughts in the mind. - - Stranger than scaly thing - Or imaged leaf, - I see myself a shadow there, - The fish are gliding through my hair - My dull eyes have a fixed stare - Drowned in the pool of grief. - - - - -LARKSPUR - - - Out in the garden as you played, - A breeze moved to and fro - Across my bed of larkspur - In grave adagio. - - The wind with touch most delicate, - Went up and down the scale— - Wine-dark, frail amethyst, and blue, - Blue as Our Lady’s veil. - - You played softly to yourself, - Your brown hands on the keys; - And God with larkspur, - You with sound, were making harmonies. - - - - -SOUNDS - - - I shut my eyes and all around - The room is murmurous with sound, - Small lovely sounds without, within, - Faint as a muted violin. - - On the low roof the quiet rain - Falls hushingly in wistful strain, - It makes soft music in the leaves, - And drips staccato from the eaves. - - A grey moth flutters her frail wings - Against the glass; the kettle sings. - Someone is reading low and clear - Of Roncesvalles and Oliver. - - And with this voice all sounds are blent - In pensive slow accompaniment, - A melody made up of rain, - Young leaves, a grey moth on the pane. - - - - -TO SALARI’S MADONNA - - - O little Son who draweth life from me, - How deep a mystery. - The very source of life thou art, - And yet thou liest on my heart. - - O little Son, joy pierceth me. - Is thus fulfilled the old man’s prophecy? - Sweet, sweet thy lips! Nay, little Son, - “A sword, a sword”, said Simeon. - - - - -THE BATHERS - - - All in the misty weather, - When clouds were hanging low, - I trod a leafy woodland path - Long, long ago. - - The cold green light of morning - Shivered among the trees, - The little leaves were tremulous, - Stirred by an eery breeze. - - And then to me was given - A sight that one might dream, - Three maidens white and glistening, - Bathing in a stream. - - One floated idly drifting, - One shook her wet locks free, - One stood as slender as a boy, - As white as ivory; - - Naked, unshamed, untrammelled; - Ah, never did they know, - I saw three maidens bathing - Long, long ago. - - - - -AT THE SYMPHONY - - - The lights grow dim. There comes a hush. - Then swiftly in a mighty rush - As of great waters, over me - Break the slow surges of the symphony. - - With a vast sweep majestical - Like emerald waves that topling fall - In foam, far off and faint begins - The swelling beauty of the violins. - - Silence. On some far beach I’ve heard - The high sweet keening of a bird. - Now all the instruments are mute - But the rich music of a lonely flute. - - Once more the wave is poised to break, - Once more the wind-swept water shake - My soul; and in this harmony - I know the splendour of the trampling sea. - - - - -WEDDING SONG - - - This is her room. The sunlight lies - In squares upon the floor. - Here are her books, the ivory god - She brought from Singapore. - - Here she stood in shining white - Her hands were kind and cool, - Her eyes were very still that day, - Serene and beautiful. - - Out in the sun the garden glowed - And I remember this: - The fragrance of the grapes, a shower - Of starry clematis. - - - - -FEBRUARY - - - All the rhythms of life are slow - All the streams are choked with snow, - Evening skies are pale, - The very stars are still, - On the long slope of the hill - Woodsmoke weaves a pattern frail. - - No cloak, no pretense here; - The earth is clean as a naked spear, - Beauty is stripped bare; - But she will stoop as winter lingers - To pluck arbutus with expectant fingers, - And weave the cold sweet blossoms in her hair. - - - - -TO THE FOUR ARCHANGELS - - - If Michael lent his splintering lance - And his blue eager blade, - Though you with scaly dragons fight - You would not be afraid. - - If Gabriel should stoop to you, - A rainbow in his wings, - What luminous secrets you would know, - What wise and simple things! - - If Raphael with you should strive - Until the stars grew dim, - Angelic vigour would be yours, - The strength of Seraphim. - - If on your sight great Uriel burned, - Whose feet with fire are shod, - He’d touch your earthly song of praise - Into a flame for God. - - Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, - Holy Uriel, guard you well. - - - - -A PRISONER - - - A prisoner am I. - In fivefold gyves and strong - I shall be captive, bound, - My whole life long. - But fettered, I shall make my bonds - Into a shining song. - - For if it were not for the chains I bear - I should be unaware - Of the frail splendour of a peacock pacing slow, - Rich, opalescent dyes, - Blue, green, bronze-burnished, lustrous argent eyes— - A fanfarade - Of lapis, azure, emerald and jade— - A glory of spread plumes where shattered rainbows played. - - And never should I know - The sound of running water soft and low, - The hushed grey music of a summer rain, - A plain song cadence, beautiful and strange, - Old wistful chants scarred with lost Eden’s pain. - - Nor should I mark the rough austerity - Of surf, the rude caress of waves that buffet me. - Or find delight - In the cool touch of smoothéd ivory. - - And always I should lack - The scent of burning leaves, the poignant smack - Of box; or heliotrope in the hot sun; - Primroses opening their pale stars one by one. - - Then, too, I should forego the savour of fresh bread. - Clear-dripping honey thick with the perfume - Of the red clover bloom. - And never should I cool my parchéd mouth - With luscious apricots, warm, tinctured of the South. - - God, when my body must - Return to dust, - O let me be - Not utterly set free - From these my friendly bonds! - O let me use them there, as here, for Thee - With deeper rapture, keener ecstasy. - - - - -AFTERWARD - - - Now I remember very plain: - A sumac leaf was red, - The bloom of grape was on the hills, - The river was a twisted thread. - - That day I marked not leaf nor hill, - Nor rivers to the sea— - I was my lover’s garden closed, - I was his tower of ivory. - - - - -THE ASCENT OF ISHTAR - - - At the first gate they gave the veil to Ishtar: - On earth a pear tree trembles into bloom, - The poplar weaves a web of changeful green and silver, - Lord Tammuz comes back from his dusty tomb. - - At the second gate they sped her on the journey, - They gave her bracelets for her hands and slender feet: - Through the reeds the wind goes piping, piping, - The flutes of Tammuz are piping shrill and sweet. - - And the jewelled circlet they bound about her waist. - Can a ruby make the Daughter of the Moon more fair? - Like bright spears in battle are the young men, - And the maidens braid the pomegranate blossoms in their hair. - - About the breasts of Ishtar they bound the sumptuous ornaments. - The necklace they surrendered, and caused her to depart. - And the cedar knows the Lady’s strength and her dominions, - For the Dweller in the Morning Star makes strong the cedar’s heart. - - At the sixth gate they brought to Lady Ishtar - The ear-rings, lovely as the silver-threaded rain; - On the housetops there is the pleasant sound of showers, - And on the slopes the green swords of grain. - - At the seventh gate they crowned the Queen of Heaven, - She has brought back Tammuz from the house of death. - The winter is past, the rain is gone and over, - And sweet is the vineyard in the south wind’s breath. - - - - -DISCOVERY - - - A bird to me was just a bird, - A feathered thing one often heard - Piping in the early dawn - In the lilacs on the lawn. - But from you I learned to see - All the beauty there can be - In the birds—the deep wood note - Throbbing in the veery’s throat, - A cardinal adventuring by - As if a poppy tried to fly. - God speaks indeed from bush and tree - Since you discovered birds for me. - - - - -POMEGRANATES - - - In city streets the blue dusk falls. - The lights prick out. Folks hurry by. - Buses are thronged. Sleek motors flash. - “Extra—ship sunk!” the newsboys cry. - - Before a little shop I pause - Where Pietro sells, strange, precious fruit, - Great globes of scarlet, heaps of gold - Barbaric as a pirate’s loot. - - I see pomegranates glowing there, - And I forget the strident night, - I hear the song of Solomon— - “Return, return, O Shulamite. - - Thy lips are like a scarlet thread, - O prince’s daughter, thou art fair; - Thy garments are perfumed with myrrh, - With aloes drips thy braided hair.” - - Dim fragrant gardens close me in, - The city as a dream has gone, - And from the South I feel the winds - Blow soft from cedared Lebanon. - - - - -TO BOTTICELLI’S VENUS - - - In the early dawning before the sun had risen - The wind piped mournfully along the lonely sand, - The sea lay desolate, sunless, desolate, - There was no light upon the deep or light upon the land. - - Before the sun had risen in the cold green twilight - Came a Lady from the foam, a Lady wistful eyed, - The crinkled waves beneath her feet ran eagerly before her, - She drifted in from alien seas at the turn of the tide. - - Light came into the world with her. I knelt before her beauty, - Her pure and awful nakedness unaware of shame, - Her slender fingers hiding the apple of her bosom, - Her red gold hair unfilleted blown like a windy flame. - - Softly blew the winds about her, softly fell the blossoms, - But in her face was sorrow for the long years to be: - The kiss beneath the olives, the anguish of betrayal, - Her grief was for the wounds of Love, Our Lady of the Sea. - - - - -HAGAR - - - The desert trembles in the heat - The water pools are bitter. - Boy, we follow the camel track; - Sarah rides in a scarlet litter. - - Here is the water, Ishmael, - The bread your father gave. - Sarah crumbles a wheaten cake, - Her cup is filled by an eager slave. - - Tonight our tent is hung with stars. - In comfort Sarah rests. - Abram dreams of the bondwoman, - Of Hagar’s brown breasts. - - Lord Osiris hear me! - Isis, Heavenly One! - All men’s hands are against me, - But mine was the first-born son. - - - - -THE PIPER - - - You laid your slender fingers, - Your fingers long and brown, - Upon the pipes, and lured me - Far from the stolid town. - - You piped me to the greenwood, - And there, when grace was said, - We brake and ate together - The fairy’s secret bread. - - Oh then my ears were opened - And magically I heard - The small leaves talk together, - The gossip of a bird. - - Bewitched? There is no telling: - But always, till I’m dead, - I’ll hear your silver piping - And eat your fairy bread. - - - - -THE JUDAS TREE - - - Winter to my tree has lent - Beauty clean and innocent, - Here no purple flowers blow, - But crystal blossoms of the snow, - Every crooked bough is set - With starry petals delicate. - - Judas flung the silver down, - And hanged himself beyond the town: - Spring returns. The traitor blood - Quickens in each scarlet bud. - Frost and snow remember not— - Mercy on Iscariot. - - - - -WAITING - - - I will be silent, - But in the hush - My heart will sing - Like a hermit thrush. - - I will be silent - I’ll say no word, - My love shall burn - Like a flame unstirred. - - I will be silent, - My joy I’ll hide, - And wait as the sand - For the turn of tide. - - - - -THE LAST FURROW - -(ON EDWARD CALVERT’S WOODCUT) - - - And suddenly my field was Heaven: - I saw a shepherd stand - On the edge of my ploughed land, - And every dusty furrow shone with gold. - And every leaf and blade of grass - Whose common loveliness I had let pass - Now did unfold - New beauties to my sight. - God was that Shepherd garmented in light. - - And there was singing: - In a beechen wood - Three maidens stood - And with their music praised God - In a sweet and pleasant hymn. - They danced, three maidens white and slim - A measure, delicately trod. - He loves no sad austerities, - God is well praised by nymphs beneath the trees. - - My field was Heaven. - An angel sped - With a bright bolt, and pierced the Serpent’s head, - Satan is under heel. Good beasts, enthralled, - Velvet mole, and leathern wing, - Worm with fiery sting, - And every noisome slug that crawled - Are all set free. God is not in some alien place. - In my ploughed field I saw the brightness of his face. - - - - -HORSE CHESTNUTS - - - In April my horse chestnuts - Were beautiful to see! - Tapers set on every bough - Like candles on a tree. - But now in late October - With frosty nights and cold - There is more poignant beauty - In their dim tarnished gold. - - - - -THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER - - - Then Jesus said, “I thirst”, and there was one - Who filled a spunge, and put it to His mouth— - An unknown Roman soldier—his the joy - In the three hours to quench that sacred drouth. - - They had been dicing, and the seamless coat - Had fallen to him. Now the thick darkness came - Over the land. He watched the Crucified - Wondering, in doubt, this soldier without name. - - “Bacchus! The Jew knew how to die. The nails - Were blunt. He neither railed nor cursed. - Even the sturdy thief had called him ‘Lord’”. - At the ninth hour there came the cry, “I thirst”. - - The Roman held the vinegar to his lips, - And looked with pity on His dying Face. - O Unknown Soldier, pray for me to give - My love’s poor wine, and give it with such grace. - - - - -THE FALLOW FIELDS - - - Let the fields lie fallow - Bare and brown. - Let the great winds stride over them - And the snow come down. - - Let them lie open to the sun - To the patient rain, - And the dews whiten them - E’er they yield again. - - Plough in the sturdy weed, - The common flower, - Let their wild vigor yield - A lusty dower. - - Then after sun and snow - After dew and sleet - From the earth will spring the green - Flame of the wheat. - - - - -THE PATTERAN - - - I’m married to a proper wife, - My home is clean and neat, - But I hear the gypsies calling me, - I love the dancing feet. - - I long to up and follow them - Over the rolling moor; - I sicken of my own hearth-fire, - The lilacs by the door. - - I long to see the sweep of stars - Wheel nightly overhead; - I want the four strong winds to be - The four posts of my bed. - - I long to wake at dawn - When all the world is grey and cool, - And slip into the lonely depth - Of a mountain pool. - - Three meals my wife sets for me— - Enough for any man. - But on her freshly sanded floor - I see the patteran. - - - - -TO A MUSICIAN - - - I thought that only God could make the rain, - But when you laid your hands upon the keys - The room was full of gentle harmonies— - An eager shower pattering on the pane, - The hushed and wistful tread - Of rain at night that marches overhead, - The kind, grey rain that stills the windy trees. - - I thought that only God could make a star, - But I have heard your fingers build the sky, - Have watched the yellow dusk of autumn die - And night creep up the east immense and far, - Then glittering and bright, - I’ve seen the Hunter girt with silver light, - Orion with his shining hounds sweep by. - - I thought that only God could make the sea, - But in your music the unbounded deep - Is gathered up as in a treasure heap— - Calm spaces, rocks where singing tides run free, - The cloudy-emerald foam - Ships on the world’s dim verge, far, far from home, - And pools unrippled where the hushed winds sleep. - - - - -TEMPO - - - My body could play delicate tunes, - Music exquisite and thin, - But I must keep it in its case - Like a violin. - - A Scherzo prances in my blood, - Mercurial and quick; - I pirouette—the box snaps tight - With a malicious click. - - A Saraband is not for me, - It makes the varnish crack. - I must play a grave, grave tune - Slow and elegiac! - - - - -TO SCRIABINE: L’EXTASE - - - Not with the drums, the throbbing scarlet drums, - Not with the voice of a silver flute, - Not with the brazen clangour of cymbals, - Nor the trumpets slitting the silence; - Not with the maelstrom of sound - Monstrous, prodigious, - Comes ecstasy. - But with stillness - As when a flame burns unflickering - In far, empty places; - With the quiet of a leaf falling in the forest; - With the hush of the elevation of the Host. - - - - -ADAM ASLEEP - - - Far away I hear the voices of four rivers flowing, - Wings in the thicket, and the four winds blowing. - Adam sleeps in Eden. In this still place - I lie within his circling arm and look upon his face. - - God walks in the garden when the day is cool, - But the face of Adam is far more beautiful; - He is like the splendour of the sun at noon, - And the slope of his body like the white young moon. - - Of what is he dreaming as he lies at rest? - Of God in the Garden? Or Lilith’s breast? - Adam sleeps in Eden, but down in the brake - I watch the cool glitter of a painted snake. - - - - -AN OLD HOUSE - - - I love an old house, - It is like an aged face, - The worn lines, - The strange, defeated grace. - - Sorrow looks through these windows - Through the crooked glass. - And the sill is hollow - Where Death’s feet pass. - - But there is yet a beauty, - A triumph, a haughty thrust; - The meek defiance of ancient loveliness - Before the dust is dust. - - - - -MOONRISE - - - Like a white lotus flower the moon unfolds - Her luminous petals and the stars grow pale. - Vague mists withdraw, grey shadows o’er the water - Shadows of twilight tremulous and frail. - The flutes of dusk are still; new worlds unveil; - God for such moments made the nightingale. - - And yet, O Philomel, thou couldst not chant - From the cool shadow of a cedar tree, - So high a lay as this I hear in rapture, - The song his utter silence sings to me. - Of the brown earth is thy winged melody. - But God is in this wordless ecstasy. - - - - -CAGED - - - I have a caged bird, - He beats the bars; - Wild and bright his eyes, - On his breast, scars. - - An oriole whistles; - My bird has not a note, - Though I can see the song - Trembling in his throat. - - Other birds fly south - To the green pampas floor, - But in the blue air - Mine spreads his wings no more. - - I have a caged bird, - He neither flies nor sings, - But when the house is still - I hear the beat of wings. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Hoofs of Pegasus, by M. 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