The Second Book of Modern Verse | Page 8

come again, the world is as of old.
Once
more I feel about my breast the heartening splendors fold. Now I am
back in that good place from which my footsteps came, And I am
hushed of any grief and have laid by my shame.

I know not by what road I came -- oh wonderful and fair!
Only I
know I ailed for thee and that thou wert not there.
Then suddenly
Time's stalwart wall before thee did divide,
Its solid bastions dreamed
and swayed and there was I inside.
It is thy nearness makes thee seem so wonderful and far.
In that deep
sky thou art obscured as in the noon, a star.
But when the darkness of
my grief swings up the mid-day sky, My need begets a shining world.
Lo, in thy light am I.
All that I used to be is there and all I yet shall be.
My laughter
deepens in the air, my quiet in the tree.
My utter tremblings of delight
are manna from the sky,
And shining flower-like in the grass my
innocencies lie.
And here I run and sleep and laugh and have no name at all. Only if
God should speak to me then I would heed the call.
And I forget the
curious ways, the alien looks of men,
For even as it was of old, so is
it now again.
Still every angel looks the same and all the folks are there That are so
bounteous and mild and have not any care.
But kindest to me is the
one I would most choose to be.
She is so beautiful and sheds such
loving looks on me.
She is so beautiful -- and lays her cheek against my own.
Back -- in
the world -- they all will say, "How happy you have grown." Her breath
is sweet about my eyes and she has healed me now, Though I be
scarred with grief, I keep her kiss upon my brow.
All day, sweet land, I fight for thee outside the goodly wall, And 'twixt
my breathless wounds I have no sight of thee at all! And sometimes I
forget thy looks and what thy ways may be!
I have denied thou wert
at all -- yet still I fight for thee.
Four Sonnets. [Thomas S. Jones, Jr.]

I
Sanctuary
How may one hold these days of wonderment
And bind them into
stillness with a thong,
Ere as a fleeting dream they pass along
Into
the waste of lovely things forspent;
How may one keep what the
Great Powers have sent,
The prayers fulfilled more beautiful and
strong
Than any thought could fashion into song
Of all the rarest
harmonies inblent?
There is an Altar where they may be laid
And sealed in Faith within
Its sacred care, --
Here they are safe unto the very end;
For these are
of the things that never fade,
Brought from the City that is built
four-square,
The gifts of Him who is the Perfect Friend.
II
The Last Spring
The first glad token of the Spring is here
That bears each time one
miracle the more,
For in the sunlight is the golden ore,
The joyous
promise of a waking year;
And in that promise all clouds disappear

And youth itself comes back as once before,
For only dreams are real
in April's store
When buds are bursting and the skies are clear.
Fair Season! at your touch the sleeping land
Quickens to rapture, and
a rosy flame
Is the old signal of awakening;
Thus in a mystery I
understand
The deepest meaning of your lovely name --
How it will
be in that perpetual Spring!
III
The Garden
Behind the pinions of the Seraphim,
Whose wings flame out upon the

swinging spheres,
There is a Voice that speaks the numbered years

Until that Day when all comes back to Him;
Behind the faces of the
Cherubim,
Whose smiles of love are seen through broken tears,

There is a Face that every creature fears,
The Face of Love no veil
may ever dim.
O Angels of Glad Laughter and of Song,
Your voices sound so near,
the little wall
Can scarcely hide the trees that bend and nod;
Unbar
the gate, for you have waited long
To show the Garden that was made
for all, --
Where all is safe beneath the Smile of God.
IV
The Path of the Stars
Down through the spheres that chant the Name of One
Who is the
Law of Beauty and of Light
He came, and as He came the waiting
Night
Shook with the gladness of a Day begun;
And as He came,
He said: Thy Will Be Done
On Earth; and all His vibrant Words were
white
And glistering with silver, and their might
Was of the glory
of a rising sun.
Unto the Stars sang out His Living Words
White and with silver, and
their rhythmic sound
Was as a mighty symphony unfurled;
And
back from out the Stars like homing birds
They fell in love upon the
sleeping ground
And were forever in a wakened world.
Chanson of the Bells of Oseney. [Cale Young Rice]