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Page 19
Paris, 1919
VI
Two black deer uprise
In ghostly silhouette
Against the frozen skies,
Against the snowy meadow;
The moonlight weaves a net
Of silver and of shadow.
The sky is cold above me,
The icy road below
Leads me from you who love me,
To unknown destinies.
Was that your whistle?--No,
The wind among the trees.
Sheffield, 1917
VII
When in the ultimate embrace
Our blown dust mingles in the wind,
And others wander in the place
Where we made merry;
When in the dance of spring we spend
Our ashen powers with the gale,
What will these tears and joys avail,
The winged kiss, the laughing face,
Where we make merry?
Save that with everlasting grace
Thy soul shall linger in this place,
And haunt with music, or else be
A lyric in the memory.
Boston, 1915
VIII
Tonight it seems to be the same
As when we two would sit
With struggling breath beside the river.
How slowly the moon came
Above the hill; how wet
With shaking silver she arose
Above the hill.
Now in the sultry garden close
I hear the katydid
Strumming his foolish mandolin.
The wind is lying still,
And suddenly amid
The trembling boughs the moon expands into a scarlet flame.
What charm can bid the mind forget,
And sleep in peace forever,
Beyond the ghosts of ancient sin,
Lost laughter, barren tears.
And you, my dear, have slept four thousand years,
Beneath the Pyramid.
Brussels, 1918
IX
If you should come tonight
And say, "I could not go, and leave
You here alone in pain,"
How should I take delight
In that or dare believe,
Lest I deceive myself with dreams again?...
If you should come tonight.
Cambridge, 1916
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