A Woman of Thirty | Page 4

The Golden Stag
To Anne Knish
Lolita
Spectrum of Mrs. Q

Epitaph
A Sixpence
Three Spectra
Two Commentaries
A
Womanly Woman
Lolita Now is Old
The Shining Bird
The King
Sends Three Cats to Guinevere
Ode in the New Mode
Night

I. The Old Woman
(A Morality Play)
The Old Woman
(A Morality Play)
Characters:
The Woman
The House
The Doctor
The Deacon

The Landlady
Doctor:
There is an old woman
Who ought to die--
Deacon:
And nobody knows
But what she's dead--
Doctor:
The air will be cleaner
When she's gone--
Deacon:
But we dare not bury her
Till she's dead--
Landlady:
Come, young doctor
From the first floor front,
Come,
dusty deacon,
From the fourth floor back,
You take her heels
And
I'll take her head--
Doctor and Deacon:
We'll carry her
And bury her
If she's dead!
House:
They roll her up
In her old, red quilt,
They carry her down

At a horizontal tilt,
She doesn't say "Yes"
And she doesn't say
"No,"
She doesn't say, "Gentlemen,
Where do we go?"
Doctor:
Out in the lot
Where ash-cans die,
There, old woman,

There shall you lie!
Deacon:
Let's hurry away
And never look behind
To see if her
eyes
Are dead and blind,
To see if the quilt
Lies over her face--

Perhaps she'll groan
Or move in her place!
House:
The room is empty
Where the old woman lay,
And I no
longer
Smell like a tomb--
Landlady:
Doctor, deacon,
Can you say
Who'll pay rent
For the

old woman's room?

House:
The room is empty
Down the hall,
There are mice in the
closet,
Ghosts in the wall--
A pretty little lady
Comes to see--
Woman:
Oh, what a dark room,
Not for me!
Landlady:
The room is large
And the rent is low,
There's a deacon
above
And a doctor below--
Deacon:
When the little mice squeak
I shall pray--
Doctor:
I'll psycho-analyse
The ghosts away--
Landlady:
The bed is large
And the mattress deep,
Wrapped in a
feather-bed
You shall sleep--
Woman:
But here's the door
Without a key!
An unlocked room

Won't do for me!
Doctor:
Here's a bolt--
Deacon:
And here's a bar--
Landlady:
You'll sleep soundly
Where you are!
Woman:
Good night, gentlemen,
It's growing late,
Good night,
landlady,
Pray don't wait!
I'm going to bed,
I'll bolt the door

And sleep more soundly
Than ever before!
Deacon:
Good night, madam,
I'll steal away--
Doctor:
Glad a pretty lady
Has come to stay!
House:

She lights a candle--
What do I see!
That cloak looks like


A quilt to me!
She climbs into bed
Where long she's lain,
She's
come back home,
She won't leave again.
She's found once more

Her rightful place,
Same old lady
With a pretty new face.
Let the
deacon pray
And the doctor talk,
The mice will squeak
And the
ghosts will walk.
There's a crafty smile
On the landlady's face,

The old woman's gone,
But she's filled her place!
Landlady:
It's nothing to me
If the old woman's dead,
There's
somebody sleeping
In every bed!
II. Love Poems in Summer
Singalese Love Songs
I
Your eyes are beautiful beggars,
Careless singing minstrels,
Who
will not starve
Nor sleep cold under the sky
If they receive no
largess
Of mine.
Once lived a woman
Of great charity--
At last
Her own children
Begged for bread.
II
I would make you love me
That you might possess
Desire--
For to your heart
Beauty is a burned-out torch,
And Faith, a blind
pigeon,
Friendship, a curious Persian myth,
And Love, blank
emptiness,
Bearing no significance
Nor any reality.
Only Weariness is yours:
I would make you love me
That you
might possess
Desire.
III

Is my love
Of flesh or spirit?
I only know to me
Your eyes are
wholly you.
Our glances dart
Like the flash of a bird
Gone, before the colour of
his wing
Is seen.
I have not bathed my soul
In your eyes,
My soul would drown.
IV
I have starved to know your lips
Yet my soul
Does not die of want.
For only dreams are real,
And fulfilment is an illusion,
There is but
one fulfilment,
Blind Nature's way--
My arms reach toward illusion,
And I would carry mist against my
heart,
Not the warm, heavy head
Of a sleeping child.
Starving, I hold my dream.
V
What do you seek,
Beloved?
When you have had
All of me
There will remain for you
One
beautiful desire the less.
You think you seek my love
But you seek
My denial.
Hunger, Want,
Is the only pain
I would not spare you--
Alas, that
too
Will die!
The Silent Pool
Your smile is a heron, flying
Over waters cool,
My thoughts of you
are blue Iris!
Today is the silent pool
Which shining heron and Iris
blue
Are mirrored on.

Tomorrow
Will still reflect the Iris--
My thoughts of you;
But the
heron will be gone.
Nocturne
It is enough
To feel your beauty
With the lingers
Of my heart,
Your beauty, like the starlight,
Filling night so gently, that it dreams

Unwakened.
I should feel your beauty against my face
Though I were blind.
Theme Arranged for Organ
I. PRELUDE
What would you have of me, my friend, in truth,
A breath of
understanding, or a glance
Into your soul's dark places? Can a word

Aid in your brave attempt to smother youth?
Of what avail that
trifling circumstance,
In such a tumult could my voice be heard?
Before your bitter need my lips are dumb
So little can I give you.
Should I come
To feed a starving Titan with a crumb?
II. INTERLUDE
Alas, I am too foolish or too wise,
Too soon am blinded or I see too
far!
How can I follow with expectant feet,
What is the beacon light
that holds your eyes,
Can this blind alley lead to any star
And
through this dark confusion, what retreat?
For heaven is awed when comets crash to earth,
But