Cross Roads | Page 6

sunkissed
turquoise sky,?And you seem so far above me that I always hurry
by!"
"You are laughing in your shallows, you are somber
in your deeps,?And below your shining surface there's a heart that
never sleeps;?But all day you pass me, dancing, and at evening
time you dream,?And I didn't think you liked me," sang the birchtree
to the stream.
So they got a bit acquainted on a glowing summer
day,?And they found they liked each other (which is often
times the way);?And the river got so friendly, and it ran so very slow,?That the birch-tree shone reflected in the water down
below!
AUTUMN SONG
Let's go down the road together, you and I,
Let's go down the road together,?Through the vivid autumn weather;?Let's go down the road together when the red leaves
fly.?Let's go searching, searching after?Joy and mirth and love and laughter --?Let's go down the road together, you and I.
Let's go hunting for adventure, you and I,
For the romance we are knowing?Waits for us, alive and glowing,?For the romance that has always passed us by.
Let's have done with tears and sighing,?What if summer-time IS dying??Let's go hunting for adventure, you and I.
Let's go down the road together, you and I --
And if you are frightened lest you?Weary grow, my arms will rest you,?As we take the road together when the red leaves fly.
Springtime is the time for mating??Ah, a deeper love is waiting?Down the autumn road that calls us, you and I!
THE CITY --?TOWERS AND CANYONS, AND SLUMS,?MAN BUILT. . . .
AND SOULS,?GOD BUILT!
SCARLET FLOWERS
The window box across the street?Is filled with scarlet flowers;?They glow, like bits of sunset cloud,?Across the dragging hours.?What though the mist be like a shroud?What though the day be dreary??The window box across the street?Is warm, and gay, and cheery!
The window box across the street?Is filled with scarlet flowers;?I almost catch their perfume sweet. . . .?Above the sound of tramping feet,?They sing of country bowers.?Against the house that looms so gray,?They smile in -- well, a friendly way.
A tired shop girl hurries by;?Their color seems to catch her eye;?She pauses, starts, and wistfully?She gazes up. It seems to me?That I can hear her longing sigh. . . .?A little shop girl hurries by.
A newsboy stops to sell his wares;?The crowds brush by him; no one cares?To buy his papers. But above?The scarlet flowers bravely grow?In token of the Father's love. . . .?The crowds brush coldly by below.
A blind man stumbles, groping past;?He cannot see their scarlet shine;?And yet some memory seems to twine?About his soul.
For, oh, he turns?As trusting as a child who yearns?For some vague dream, and smilingly?He lifts the eyes that cannot see. . . .?A blind man stumbles, groping past.
The window box across the street?Is filled with scarlet flowers;?They tell a secret, tender, sweet,?Through all the dreary hours.?And folk who hurry on their way?Dream of some other brighter day. . . .?The window box across the street?Is filled with scarlet flowers.
ON FIFTH AVENUE
I walked down Fifth Avenue the other day?(In the languid summertime everybody strolls down
Fifth Avenue);?And I passed women, dainty in their filmy frocks,?And much bespatted men with canes.?And great green busses lumbered past me,?And impressive limousines, and brisk little "lectrics.
I walked down Fifth Avenue the other day,?And the sunshine smiled at me,?And something, deep in my heart, burst into song.?And then, all at once, I saw her --?A woman with painted lips and rouge-touched
cheeks --?Standing in front of a jeweler's window.?She was looking at diamonds --?A tray of great blue-white diamonds --?And I saw a flame leap out of her eyes to meet them?(Greedy eyes they were, and cold, like too-perfect
jewels);?And I realized, for the first time,?That diamonds weren't always pretty.
And then I SAW THE OTHER ONE:?A thin little girl looking into a florist's shop?At a fragrant mass of violets, dew-purple and fresh.?She carried a huge box on her arm,?And a man, passing, said loudly,?"I guess somebody's hat'll be late today!"?And the thin little girl flushed and hurried on,?But not before I had seen the tenderness in her eyes --?The tenderness that real women show?When they look at vast rolling hills, or flowers, or
very small pink babies.
I walked down Fifth Avenue the other day.?(All the world walks, leisurely, down Fifth Avenue?in the summertime.)
FROM A CITY WINDOW
The dust is thick on the city street,
The smoke on the city sky?Hangs dense and gray at the close of day --
And the city crowds surge by?With heavy feet through the summer heat
Like a sluggish sullen tide; ...?But hand in hand through a magic land
We are wandering side by side.
For somewhere, dear, there's a magic land
On the shores of a silver sea;?And there is a boat with turquoise sails --
With sails that are wide and free;?A boat that is whirling through the spray,
That is coming for you and me!
Somewhere, dear, there's a singing breeze
That creeps through the laughing air?To the wide-flung boughs of a blue-black