Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO THE NORTH, by FANNIE STEARNS DAVIS GIFFORD



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO THE NORTH, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: I give three calls to the north
Last Line: Come forth!
Alternate Author Name(s): Davis, Fannie Stearns
Subject(s): North, The


I GIVE three calls to the North.

Come forth!
Come forth!
Come forth!

Out of the black fir-forests, where snow
Hides in the hollow places; where blow
Late spring winds; and the rivers run
Ice-green, laughing with late spring sun;
Out of the sharp white nights, too still,
(Star upon star, as hill upon hill)
Oh, like the fierce-foot rivers, set free,
Come and awaken and trouble me!

(Name that I cannot cry,
Face that my dreams deny,
Feet that strode swift, -- and yet
Should I one hour forget?
Shot from your life to mine,
Blazing and barbed, the Sign?)

I give three calls to the North.

Come forth!
Come forth!
Come forth!

Here in my garden green
Lilacs whisper and lean.
Deep the grass at my door.
Shadows and songs fly o'er.
Out in the village street
Clatter of wheels and feet;
Children laughing, the chime
From the church-tower telling the time;
Hot May-sweetness, and I
Weeding my rose-beds, cry

Over the bristling hills to the North,
Hear me! Come forth! Come forth!

Can you not run down a mountain-side
Like a rude green river's rock-roughened tide?
Fly over forests of black-peaked firs
Like an eagle, proudest of voyagers?
Sweep like a notable wind to me,
Laughing and cold-lipped, to set me free?

How can I wait so long?
Till the bob-o'-link slackens his song;
Till the roses have blossomed and blown,
And the little round apples have grown
Green on my twisted tree?
Can you not set me free
Now, while I cry to you?
Now, while the sweet nights through
I lie in the dark and feel
Life like a mad flame reel

Over the floors of my heart?
Now, while the wild dreams start
Clamoring out of the night and noon,
Under the clear sun, under the moon,
Clamoring, while I go
Soberly to and fro?

How can I wait? I stand
And cry to you. Heart and hand
Reaches to you. Give heed!
I, in my garden, bleed
Small dark blood-drops of need.

-- Great bees blunder and croon, --
Church-bell chiming high noon, --

O, like the fierce-foot rivers, set free,
Come! and awaken and trouble me!
Come! For I need you mortally!

I give three calls to the North.

Come forth!
Come forth!
Come forth!





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