COME not again, dear sun, Unless you bring Ardour less weary a little, Sweet hope not so brittle And quiet from the groves My heart so loves -- The quiet where, with spread and spotted wing, The brown quail run. Hang there awhile, low moon; I fear the day, Roads and the panniered asses, The silly wayside lasses, The laugh of the fool that gapes Tramping his tub of grapes; Hang there a little while, awhile I pray For quiet, soon. I have loved girls and lost -- Love God and lose. Have not the foaming horses Raging the chariot courses, Panthers and dungeoned apes Twisted the shapes Of passion? There is nothing left to choose At nothing's cost. Some singing, some o'ercast, Some without lamps, Around the seventh column, Turbaned and solemn, Full-burdened, black and brown, The slaves go down; So the procession of my prophets tramps Endlessly past. What's night to me or day? Storm or soft airs? The gleam of ponded fishes? The wells of wishes? 'Tis peace, dear peace, I need And a heart freed: For love, vain love, tortures in gold-spun snares My spirit away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SAVING WAY by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOR ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE by MALCOLM COWLEY MY HAPPINESS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE HARD TIMES IN ELFLAND; A STORY OF CHRISTMAS EVE by SIDNEY LANIER GOD AND MY COUNTRY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |