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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

IN THE FAR YEARS by WILSON PUGSLEY MACDONALD

First Line: WHAT HAVE I TO GIVE?
Last Line: SINGING A SWEET CAROL.
WHAT have I to give?
Nothing that you can take.
You have no lips for that bread
Which my hands can make;
That pure, living bread
Which the gods break.

It is a strong bread
That few mortals favor;
But somewhere in the far years
You will catch its flavor:
Like a sweet incense
Will rise its old savor.

But not for you; another,
Clad in white apparel,
Will catch up her dark hair
In a clasp of beryl
And carry that bread past your door,
Singing a sweet carol.



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