Child Sun
Child Sun
Why will you play Peep Bo
Now in, now out
The workroom window so?
True 'tis
That there are children here;
But they've no time
To play Peep Bo, my dear.
Flowers And Light
Flowers have uncountable ways of pretending to be
Not solid, but moonlight or sunlight or starlight with scent.
Primroses strive for the colour of sunshine on lawns
Dew-besprent.
Freesias are flames wherein light more than heat is desired,
As candles on altars burn amethyst, golden and white.
Wall-flowers are sun streaked with shade. Periwinkles blue noon
At the height.
He Has Picked Grapes In The Sun.
He has picked grapes in the sun. Oh it seems
Like a fairy tale,
Like a tale of dreams.
'He in his slender youth, with vines, with sun,
Under a blazing sky'—
The tale might run.
There's beauty for eye and mind, for sight and thought,
Here on the surface.
Plunge. This beauty's nought.
Vision succeeds to dream. Deep in his heart
Fierier beauty lives
Than this surface art.
He has no song to sing of fragrant soil
Who in his heart revolts
At unlovely toil.
He has known the real, the truth of it. It seems
Misery eats the heart
Out of fairest dreams.
He in his slender youth, at strife, in vain
Offers his life to set
The world right again.
