Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


THE PILLOW by CLINTON SCOLLARD

First Line: OUT OF THE EARTH HAVE I MADE ME A PILLOW
Last Line: WHEN, AT THE LAST, ON HER BREAST THEY HAVE LAID ME!
Subject(s): JUNE; PILLOWS;

OUT of the earth have I made me a pillow,
Smoothed it and mossed it and grassed it well over;
Under the tremulous leaves of the willow,
Lo, it is there I have made me a pillow,
Down where the rillet runs by like a rover,
And bees quaff deep from the sweet white clover!

Sooth, there is much both to learn and to listen to, --
Twitter of wren and the warble of thrushes!
Bosom and throat how they quiver and glisten, too!
Mellower music nowhere will you listen to;
Trills that are golden and silvery gushes,
And the brook meanwhile making love to the rushes.

Day-time or night-time, noon-time or moon-time,
Ever there's something to lure me and hold me;
You know the charm that there is in the Junetime!
(Day-time or night-time, noon-time or moon-time!)
Such is the magic that seems to enfold me,
Play on my spirit, re-fashion, re-mould me.

Bough-sway above me, and reed-sway below me,
And gentle leaf-laughter around and about me;
Crickets, cicadas and katydids know me;
Tinkles and trebles above and below me!
Just the old earth-joy the clear voices shout me;
If there is happier haven I doubt me!

Yea, on the breast of the loving all-mother,
Lo, it is there I a pillow have made me!
Soothe can she, lull can she, more than another, --
She, the all-bountiful, beautiful mother!
Oh, that her peace, with its healing, may aid me,
When, at the last, on her breast they have laid me!



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