Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE LOVER'S INTERDICT, by ALICE CARY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Stop, traveler, just a moment at my gate Last Line: Crush you among the echoes of the song. Subject(s): Love; Travel | ||||||||
STOP, traveler, just a moment at my gate, And I will give you news so very sweet That you will thank me. Where the branches meet Across your road, and droop, as with the weight Of shadows laid upon them, pause, I pray, And turn aside a little from your way. You see the drooping branches over-spread With shadows, as I told you -- look you now To the high elm-tree with the dead white bough Loose swinging out of joint, and there, with head Tricked out with scarlet, pouring his wild lay, You see a blackbird: turn your step that way. Holding along the honeysuckle hedge, Make for the meadows lying down so low; Ah! now I need not say that you must go No farther than that little silver wedge Of daisy-land, pushed inward by the flood Betwixt the hills -- you could not, if you would. For you will see there, as the sun goes down, And freckles all the daisy leaves with gold, A little maiden, in their evening fold Penning two lambs -- her soft, fawn-colored gown Tucked over hems of violet, by a hand Dainty as any lady's in the land. Such gracious light she will about her bring, That, when the day, being wedded to the shade, Wears the moon's circle, blushing, as the maid Blushes to wear the unused marriagering, And all the quickened clouds do fall astir With daffodils, your thoughts will stay with her. No ornaments but her two sapphire eyes, And the twin roses in her cheeks that grow, The nice-set pearls, that make so fine a show When that she either softly smiles or sighs, And the long tresses, colored like a bee -- Brown, with a sunlight shimmer. You will see, When you have cased to watch the airy spring Of her white feet, a fallen beech hard by, The yellow earth about the gnarled roots dry, And if you hide there, you will hear her sing That song Kit Marlowe made so long ago -- "Come live with me, and be my love," you know. Dear soul, you would not be at heaven's high gate Among the larks, that constellated hour, Nor locked alone in some green-hearted bower Among the nightingales, being in your fate, By fortune's sweet selection, graced above All grace, to hear that -- Come, and be my love! But when the singer singeth down the sweets To that most maiden-like and lovely bed -- All out of soft persuasive roses spread -- You must not touch the fair and flowery sheets Even in your thought! and from your perfect bliss I furthermore must interdict you this: When all the wayward mists, because of her, Lie in their white wings, moveless, on the air, You must not let the loose net of her hair Drag your heart to her! nor from hushed breath stir Out of your sacred hiding. As you guess She is my love -- this woodland shepherdess. The cap, the clasps, the kirtle fringed along With myrtles, as the hand of dear old Kit Did of his cunning pleasure broider it, To ornament that dulcet piece of song Immortalled with refrains of -- Live with me! These to your fancy, one and all are free. But, favored traveler, ere you quit my gate, Promise to hold it, in your mind to be Enamored only of the melody, Else will I pray that all yon woody weight Of branch and shadow, as you pass along, Crush you among the echoes of the song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RICHARD, WHAT'S THAT NOISE? by RICHARD HOWARD LOOKING FOR THE GULF MOTEL by RICHARD BLANCO RIVERS INTO SEAS by LYNDA HULL DESTINATIONS by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN THE ONE WHO WAS DIFFERENT by RANDALL JARRELL THE CONFESSION OF ST. JIM-RALPH by DENIS JOHNSON SESTINA: TRAVEL NOTES by WELDON KEES WHERE THE TRACK VANISHES by GALWAY KINNELL A SPINSTER'S STINT by ALICE CARY |
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