I do not mind the stars; the only thing
Alive, the moon, perched full upon her wing, Is drifting languidly over the hill.
Alive, the moon, perched full upon her wing, Is drifting languidly over the hill.
Contemporary Verse - v01-02
coming!
make way for me!
"
Far and faint, yet each moment clearer, Straight as an arrow down the sound,
An old-time freighter is drawing nearer, "City of Taunton" westward bound.
"B-o-o-m" and "B-o-o-m" from afar she hears us, She will pass on our starboard bow,
Out of the drifting fog she nears us, With rush of waters she's passing now.
Then farther, fainter, till she is lost, Forging to westward through the night;
Westward her deep-voiced tones are tossed,
And the ghostly glare of her great searchlight.
While to the eastward holding straight,
With rhythmical thrust and mighty drive,
Every inch of her palpitate, Keenly, powerfully alive,
The "Commonwealth" speeds over the sound As a strong swimmer breasts the sea,
Alert and sure, through a world around,
Wrapped in silence and mystery.
'
And I saw long ships, with their smokestacks leaning
In the white scud and the white foam and the smoky swift spray!
AS I CAME DOWN IN THE HARBOR By Louis Ginsberg
As I came down in the harbor, I saw ships careening — Tall ships with taut sails, bulging slowly away;
As I came down in the harbor, like far swallows flying, Delicate were the sails I saw, poised faint and dim !
. And who —Oh who will it be that will know how my heart went crying With the far ships and to far Spain beneath the sky's frail rim !
THREE POEMS By Mary Morris Duane
In My Need
Once in my need you gave to me A radiant smile,
And I made pause to bide in little while.
Perchance was passing thought, trick of eyes;
But on such hidden wings The gods arise.
Happiness
"O, Happiness, thou fickle maid, gay farewell to thee—"
But Happiness, that fickle maid, Came smiling back to me
Dreamt
dreamt that thou didst come
When was dead and lay pale violets About my head; —
And on my folded hands,
Where once did live
Thy kiss, — felt thy tears
And heard, "Forgive! 1'
1
A itAA I is
I I it a
!
it,
SONNETS By Samuel Roth
Trifles
The road is clear tonight, and all is still.
I do not mind the stars; the only thing
Alive, the moon, perched full upon her wing, Is drifting languidly over the hill.
I think if the eternal grasp should will
To loose one moment in the iron ring
Of law and place, she too would fall and cling To the dead ashes, and she would not thrill. Nor would I stir to see the death, were't not That in the circle of this very moon
And in this hill's shade sleep my heart and you. Such loves have been, I know, and are forgot, Death comes to all and never comes too soon, Yet in these trifles, dear, let us be true.
If I Should Speak
If I should speak you would not understand. You'd only hear my voice and see my eyes And the remembrance of old ecstasies Awakening within you solemn-grand
Would flood my words; you would forget my hand Lay tremulous on yours, you would arise
And go from me as night when silence dies
And dawn and shouting harrow all the land. How can you understand that this my heart
Is but a sparrow in an eagle's nest?
So far it is from both the sky and land,
It cannot rise, it dare not fall, so lives apart
From fear of conquest and from hope of rest. . . I will not speak; you could not understand.
'4
THE GOOSE GIRL'S SONG By Laura Benet
Last morn as I was bleaching the queen's linen On the moor-grass sere and dry,
A breath of summer breeze it blew my apron To the four parts of the sky;
And as I started up tiptoe with wonder And gazed towards the town,
A little round well opened to my footsteps With water clear and brown.
'
Oh the well sweet, the well deep, the zvell with the water so fine! "
Last eve, as I was leading the king's children From the pasture where they played,
A fairy bugle sounded from an oak-tree Where tired elves had strayed;
And as it thrilled across the purple uplands And dropped to one soft note,
A golden birdie darted from the branches With white and silver throat.
Oh the bird white, the bird light, the bird with the fairy voice! "
Last night, as I was combing out my tresses In the turret chamber grey,
I saw a fairy ship, a-sailing, sailing, Through the crimson sunset gay;
And common people say it is the new moon, But full well do I ken
It is the sail the pixies are a-speeding To bear me off from men.
Far and faint, yet each moment clearer, Straight as an arrow down the sound,
An old-time freighter is drawing nearer, "City of Taunton" westward bound.
"B-o-o-m" and "B-o-o-m" from afar she hears us, She will pass on our starboard bow,
Out of the drifting fog she nears us, With rush of waters she's passing now.
Then farther, fainter, till she is lost, Forging to westward through the night;
Westward her deep-voiced tones are tossed,
And the ghostly glare of her great searchlight.
While to the eastward holding straight,
With rhythmical thrust and mighty drive,
Every inch of her palpitate, Keenly, powerfully alive,
The "Commonwealth" speeds over the sound As a strong swimmer breasts the sea,
Alert and sure, through a world around,
Wrapped in silence and mystery.
'
And I saw long ships, with their smokestacks leaning
In the white scud and the white foam and the smoky swift spray!
AS I CAME DOWN IN THE HARBOR By Louis Ginsberg
As I came down in the harbor, I saw ships careening — Tall ships with taut sails, bulging slowly away;
As I came down in the harbor, like far swallows flying, Delicate were the sails I saw, poised faint and dim !
. And who —Oh who will it be that will know how my heart went crying With the far ships and to far Spain beneath the sky's frail rim !
THREE POEMS By Mary Morris Duane
In My Need
Once in my need you gave to me A radiant smile,
And I made pause to bide in little while.
Perchance was passing thought, trick of eyes;
But on such hidden wings The gods arise.
Happiness
"O, Happiness, thou fickle maid, gay farewell to thee—"
But Happiness, that fickle maid, Came smiling back to me
Dreamt
dreamt that thou didst come
When was dead and lay pale violets About my head; —
And on my folded hands,
Where once did live
Thy kiss, — felt thy tears
And heard, "Forgive! 1'
1
A itAA I is
I I it a
!
it,
SONNETS By Samuel Roth
Trifles
The road is clear tonight, and all is still.
I do not mind the stars; the only thing
Alive, the moon, perched full upon her wing, Is drifting languidly over the hill.
I think if the eternal grasp should will
To loose one moment in the iron ring
Of law and place, she too would fall and cling To the dead ashes, and she would not thrill. Nor would I stir to see the death, were't not That in the circle of this very moon
And in this hill's shade sleep my heart and you. Such loves have been, I know, and are forgot, Death comes to all and never comes too soon, Yet in these trifles, dear, let us be true.
If I Should Speak
If I should speak you would not understand. You'd only hear my voice and see my eyes And the remembrance of old ecstasies Awakening within you solemn-grand
Would flood my words; you would forget my hand Lay tremulous on yours, you would arise
And go from me as night when silence dies
And dawn and shouting harrow all the land. How can you understand that this my heart
Is but a sparrow in an eagle's nest?
So far it is from both the sky and land,
It cannot rise, it dare not fall, so lives apart
From fear of conquest and from hope of rest. . . I will not speak; you could not understand.
'4
THE GOOSE GIRL'S SONG By Laura Benet
Last morn as I was bleaching the queen's linen On the moor-grass sere and dry,
A breath of summer breeze it blew my apron To the four parts of the sky;
And as I started up tiptoe with wonder And gazed towards the town,
A little round well opened to my footsteps With water clear and brown.
'
Oh the well sweet, the well deep, the zvell with the water so fine! "
Last eve, as I was leading the king's children From the pasture where they played,
A fairy bugle sounded from an oak-tree Where tired elves had strayed;
And as it thrilled across the purple uplands And dropped to one soft note,
A golden birdie darted from the branches With white and silver throat.
Oh the bird white, the bird light, the bird with the fairy voice! "
Last night, as I was combing out my tresses In the turret chamber grey,
I saw a fairy ship, a-sailing, sailing, Through the crimson sunset gay;
And common people say it is the new moon, But full well do I ken
It is the sail the pixies are a-speeding To bear me off from men.
