Of course you do not hear it, child.
It takes a FAIRY ear.
The full moon is a splendid gong
That beats as night grows still.
It sounds above the evening song
Of dove or whippoorwill.
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[Written while a field-worker in the Anti-Saloon League of Illinois.]
They challenge everywhereThe foes of Christ’s Eternal Church.Her incense crowns the air.The heathen knighthood cower and curseTo hear the bugles ring,But spears are set, the charge is on,Wise Arthur shall be king!And Cromwell’s men have come again,I meet them in the street.Stern but in this — no way of thornsShall snare the children’s feet.The reveling…
“Why do you seek the sun,
Your chariot will melt to mist,Your crown will have an ending.”“Nay, sun is but a Bubble,Earth is a whiff of Foam—To my caves on the coast of ThuleEach night I call them home.Thence Faiths blow forth to angelsAnd Loves blow forth to men—They break and turn to nothingAnd I make them whole again:On the crested…
I
There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things to shout about,And knock your old blue devils out.I brag and chant of Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan,Candidate for president who sketched a silver Zion,The one American Poet who could sing outdoors,He brought in tides of wonder, of unprecedented splendor,Wild roses from the plains, that made hearts…
Ah, in the night, all music haunts me here. . . .
And the tremendous Amaranth descendsSweet with the glory of ten thousand dawns?Does it not mean my God would have me say: —‘Whether you will or no, O city young,Heaven will bloom like one great flower for you,Flash and loom greatly all your marts among?’Friends, I will not cease hoping though you weep.Such things I see,…
A BROADSIDE DISTRIBUTED IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS
Over the town;Censers are swinging,Look overhead!Censers are swinging,Heaven comes down.City, dead city,Awake from the dead!Censers, tremendous,Gleam overhead.Wind-harps are ringing,Wind-harps unseen—Calling and calling:—‘Wake from the dead.Rise, little city,Shine like a queen.’Soldiers of ChristFor battle grow keen.Heaven-sent windsHaunt alley and lane.Singing of lifeIn town-meadows greenAfter the toilAnd battle and pain.Incense is pouringLike the spring rainDown on the…
I
Though I have watched so many mourners weepO’er the real dead, in dull earth laid asleep—Those dead seemed but the shadows of my daysThat passed and left me in the sun’s bright rays.Now though you go on smiling in the sunOur love is slain, and love and you were one.You are the first, you I…