Young Adventure | Page 8

no
speck Blotted the clear expanse, and the full moon Rose in much light,
and all night long I saw Her ordered progress, till, in midmost heaven,
There came a terrible silence, and the mice Crept to their holes, the
crickets did not chirp, All the small night-sounds stopped -- and clear
pure light Rippled like silk over the universe, Most cold and bleak; and
yet my heart beat fast, Waiting until the stillness broke. I know not For
what I waited -- something very great -- I dared not look up to the sky
for fear A brittle crackling should clash suddenly Against the quiet, and
a black line creep Across the sky, and widen like a mouth, Until the
broken heavens streamed apart, Like torn lost banners, and the
immortal fires, Roaring like lions, asked their meat from God. I lay
there, a black blot upon a shield Of quivering, watery whiteness. The
hush held Until I staggered up and cried aloud, And then it seemed that
something far too great For knowledge, and illimitable as God, Rent
the dark sky like lightning, and I fell, And, falling, heard a wild and
rushing wind Of music, and saw lights that blinded me With white,
impenetrable swords, and felt A pressure of soft hands upon my lips,
Upon my eyelids -- and since then I cough At times, and have strange
thoughts about the stars, That some day -- some day -- Come, I must be
quick! My master will be back soon. Let me light Thin blue Arabian
pastilles, and sit Like a dead god incensed by chanting priests, And
watch the pungent smoke wreathe up and up, Until he comes -- though

he may rage because They cost good money. Then I shall walk home
Over the moor. Already the moon climbs Above the world's edge. By
the time he comes She will be fully risen. -- There's his step!

II.
Miscellaneous.

Rain after a Vaudeville Show

The last pose flickered, failed. The screen's dead white Glared in a
sudden flooding of harsh light Stabbing the eyes; and as I stumbled out
The curtain rose. A fat girl with a pout And legs like hams, began to
sing "His Mother". Gusts of bad air rose in a choking smother; Smoke,
the wet steam of clothes, the stench of plush, Powder, cheap perfume,
mingled in a rush. I stepped into the lobby -- and stood still Struck
dumb by sudden beauty, body and will. Cleanness and rapture --
excellence made plain -- The storming, thrashing arrows of the rain!
Pouring and dripping on the roofs and rods, Smelling of woods and
hills and fresh-turned sods, Black on the sidewalks, gray in the far sky,
Crashing on thirsty panes, on gutters dry, Hurrying the crowd to shelter,
making fair The streets, the houses, and the heat-soaked air, -- Merciful,
holy, charging, sweeping, flashing, It smote the soul with a most iron
clashing! . . . Like dragons' eyes the street-lamps suddenly gleamed,
Yellow and round and dim-low globes of flame. And, scarce-perceived,
the clouds' tall banners streamed. Out of the petty wars, the daily shame,
Beauty strove suddenly, and rose, and flowered. . . . I gripped my coat
and plunged where awnings lowered. Made one with hissing blackness,
caught, embraced, By splendor and by striving and swift haste -- Spring
coming in with thunderings and strife -- I stamped the ground in the
strong joy of life!

The City Revisited

The grey gulls drift across the bay Softly and still as flakes of snow
Against the thinning fog. All day I sat and watched them come and go;
And now at last the sun was set, Filling the waves with colored fire Till

each seemed like a jewelled spire Thrust up from some drowned city.
Soon From peak and cliff and minaret The city's lights began to wink,
Each like a friendly word. The moon Began to broaden out her shield,
Spurting with silver. Straight before The brown hills lay like quiet
beasts Stretched out beside a well-loved door, And filling earth and sky
and field With the calm heaving of their breasts.
Nothing was gone, nothing was changed, The smallest wave was
unestranged By all the long ache of the years Since last I saw them,
blind with tears. Their welcome like the hills stood fast: And I, I had
come home at last.
So I laughed out with them aloud To think that now the sun was broad,
And climbing up the iron sky, Where the raw streets stretched sullenly
About another room I knew, In a mean house -- and soon there, too,
The smith would burst the flimsy door And find me lying on the floor.
Just where I fell the