_I once pierced the flesh
of the wild-deer,
now am I afraid to touch
the blue and the gold-veined hyacinths?
of the wild-deer,
now am I afraid to touch
the blue and the gold-veined hyacinths?
Imagists
Yet though the whole wind
slash at your bark,
you are lifted up,
aye--though it hiss
to cover you with froth.
SEA IRIS
I
Weed, moss-weed,
root tangled in sand,
sea-iris, brittle flower,
one petal like a shell
is broken,
and you print a shadow
like a thin twig.
Fortunate one,
scented and stinging,
rigid myrrh-bud,
camphor-flower,
sweet and salt--you are wind
in our nostrils.
II
Do the murex-fishers
drench you as they pass?
Do your roots drag up colour
from the sand?
Have they slipped gold under you;
rivets of gold?
Band of iris-flowers
above the waves,
You are painted blue,
painted like a fresh prow
stained among the salt weeds.
SEA ROSE
Rose, harsh rose,
marred and with stint of petals,
meagre flower, thin,
sparse of leaf.
more precious
than a wet rose,
single on a stem--
you are caught in the drift.
Stunted, with small leaf,
you are flung on the sands,
you are lifted
in the crisp sand
that drives in the wind.
Can the spice-rose
drip such acrid fragrance
hardened in a leaf?
OREAD
Whirl up, sea--
Whirl your pointed pines,
Splash your great pines
On our rocks,
Hurl your green over us,
Cover us with your pools of fir.
ORION DEAD
[_Artemis speaks_]
The cornel-trees
uplift from the furrows,
the roots at their bases
strike lower through the barley-sprays.
So arise and face me.
I am poisoned with the rage of song.
_I once pierced the flesh
of the wild-deer,
now am I afraid to touch
the blue and the gold-veined hyacinths? _
_I will tear the full flowers
and the little heads
of the grape-hyacinths.
I will strip the life from the bulb
until the ivory layers
lie like narcissus petals
on the black earth. _
_Arise,
lest I bend an ash-tree
into a taut bow,
and slay--and tear
all the roots from the earth. _
The cornel-wood blazes
and strikes through the barley-sprays,
but I have lost heart for this.
I break a staff.
I break the tough branch.
I know no light in the woods.
I have lost pace with the winds.
JOHN GOULD FLETCHER
JOHN GOULD FLETCHER
THE BLUE SYMPHONY
I
The darkness rolls upward.
The thick darkness carries with it
Rain and a ravel of cloud.
The sun comes forth upon earth.
Palely the dawn
Leaves me facing timidly
Old gardens sunken:
And in the gardens is water.
Sombre wreck--autumnal leaves;
Shadowy roofs
In the blue mist,
And a willow-branch that is broken.
O old pagodas of my soul, how you glittered across green trees!
Blue and cool:
Blue, tremulously,
Blow faint puffs of smoke
Across sombre pools.
