These bones, how they grind in the granite of frost and are nothing!
This skull, how it yawns for a flicker of time in the darkness
Yet laughs not and sees not! It is crushed by a hammer of sunlight,
And the hands are destroyed.... Press down through the leaves of the
jasmine,
Dig through the interlaced roots--nevermore will you find me;
I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me....
Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing?
Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun?
Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble
In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?...
Listen!... It says: "I lean by the river. The willows
Are yellowed with bud. White clouds roar up from the south
And darken the ripples; but they cannot darken my heart,
Nor the face like a star in my heart!... Rain falls on the water
And pelts it, and rings it with silver. The willow trees glisten,
The sparrows chirp under the eaves; but the face in my heart
Is a secret of music.... I wait in the rain and am silent."
Listen again!... It says: "I have worked, I am tired,
The pencil dulls in my hand: I see through the window
Walls upon walls of windows with faces behind them,
Smoke floating up to the sky, an ascension of seagulls.
I am tired. I have struggled in vain, my decision was fruitless,
Why then do I wait? with darkness, so easy, at hand!...
But to-morrow, perhaps.... I will wait and endure till
to-morrow!..."
Or again: "It is dark. The decision is made. I am vanquished
By terror of life. The walls mount slowly about me
In coldness. I had not the courage. I was forsaken.
I cried out, was answered by silence.... Tetelestai!..."
V
Hear how it babbles!--Blow the dust out of your hand,
With its voices and visions, tread on it, forget it, turn homeward
With dreams in your brain.... This, then, is the humble, the
nameless,--
The lover, the husband and father, the struggler with shadows,
The one who went down under shoutings of chaos! The weakling
Who cried his "forsaken!" like Christ on the darkening hilltop!...
This, then, is the one who implores, as he dwindles to silence,
A fanfare of glory.... And which of us dares to deny him!
EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY
EIGHT SONNETS
I
When you, that at this moment are to me
Dearer than words on paper, shall depart,
And be no more the warder of my heart,
Whereof again myself shall hold the key;
And be no more, what now you seem to be,
The sun, from which all excellencies start
In a round nimbus, nor a broken dart
Of moonlight, even, splintered on the sea;
I shall remember only of this hour--
And weep somewhat, as now you see me weep--
The pathos of your love, that, like a flower,
Fearful of death yet amorous of sleep,
Droops for a moment and beholds, dismayed,
The wind whereon its petals shall be laid.
II
What's this of death, from you who never will die?
Think you the wrist that fashioned you in clay,
The thumb that set the hollow just that way
In your full throat and lidded the long eye
So roundly from the forehead, will let lie
Broken, forgotten, under foot some day
Your unimpeachable body, and so slay
The work he most had been remembered by?
I tell you this: whatever of dust to dust
Goes down, whatever of ashes may return
To its essential self in its own season,
Loveliness such as yours will not be lost,
But, cast in bronze upon his very urn,
Make known him Master, and for what good reason.
III
I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;
And you must welcome from another part
Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear.
No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell
Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing;
And I have loved you all too long and well
To carry still the high sweet breast of spring.
Wherefore I say: O love, as summer goes,
I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums,
That you may hail anew the bird and rose
When I come back to you, as summer comes.
Else will you seek, at some not distant time,
Even your summer in another clime.
IV
Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow
The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow
Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath
Its friendly weathers down, far underneath
Shall be such bitterness of an old woe.
That April should be shattered by a gust,
That August should be leveled by a rain,
I can endure, and that the lifted dust
Of man should settle to the earth again;
But that a dream can die, will be a thrust
Between my ribs forever of hot pain.
V
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts to-night, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply;
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain,
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.
VI
Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare.
Let all who prate of Beauty hold their peace,
And lay them prone upon the earth and cease
To ponder on themselves, the while they stare
At nothing, intricately drawn nowhere
In shapes of shifting lineage; let geese
Gabble and hiss, but heroes seek release
From dusty bondage into luminous air.
O blinding hour, O holy, terrible day,
When first the shaft into his vision shone
Of light anatomized! Euclid alone
Has looked on Beauty bare. Fortunate they
Who, though once only and then but far away,
Have heard her massive sandal set on stone.
VII
Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word!
Give back my book and take my kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard?--
"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink.
Oh, I shall love you still and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more;
I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me.
VIII
Say what you will, and scratch my heart to find
The roots of last year's roses in my breast;
I am as surely riper in my mind
As if the fruit stood in the stalls confessed.
Laugh at the unshed leaf, say what you will,
Call me in all things what I was before,
A flutterer in the wind, a woman still;
I tell you I am what I was and more.
My branches weigh me down, frost cleans the air,
My sky is black with small birds bearing south;
Say what you will, confuse me with fine care,
Put by my word as but an April truth,--
Autumn is no less on me that a rose
Hugs the brown bough and sighs before it goes.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
BIBLIOGRAPHY
(The following lists include poetical works only)
AMY LOWELL
A Dome of Many-Colored Glass Houghton Mifflin Co. 1912
Sword Blades and Poppy Seed The Macmillan Company 1914
Men, Women and Ghosts The Macmillan Company 1916
Can Grande's Castle The Macmillan Company 1918
Pictures of the Floating World The Macmillan Company 1919
Legends Houghton Mifflin Co. 1921
Fir-Flower Tablets Houghton Mifflin Co. 1921
ROBERT FROST
A Boy's Will Henry Holt and Company 1914
North of Boston Henry Holt and Company 1915
Mountain Interval Henry Holt and Company 1916
CARL SANDBURG
Chicago Poems Henry Holt and Company 1916
Cornhuskers Henry Holt and Company 1918
Smoke and Steel Harcourt, Brace and Co. 1930
Slabs of the Sunburnt West Harcourt, Brace and Co. 1922
VACHEL LINDSAY
Rhymes to be Traded for Bread Privately Printed; 1912
Springfield, Ill.
General William Booth Enters Into Mitchell Kennerley 1913
Heaven
The Congo and Other Poems The Macmillan Company 1915
The Chinese Nightingale The Macmillan Company 1917
The Golden Whales of California The Macmillan Company 1920
JAMES OPPENHEIM
Monday Morning and Other Poems Sturgis & Walton Co. 1909
Songs for the New Age The Century Company 1914
War and Laughter The Century Company 1915
The Book of Self Alfred A. Knopf 1917
The Solitary B. W. Huebsch 1919
The Mystic Warrior Alfred A. Knopf 1921
ALFRED KREYMBORG
Mushrooms Alfred A. Knopf 1916
Plays for Poem-Mimes The Others Press 1918
Plays for Merry Andrews The Sunwise Turn 1920
Blood of Things Nicholas L. Brown 1921
SARA TEASDALE
Sonnets to Duse The Poet Lore Co. 1907
Helen of Troy G. P. Putnam's Sons 1911
Rivers to the Sea The Macmillan Company 1915
Love Songs The Macmillan Company 1917
Flame and Shadow The Macmillan Company 1920
LOUIS UNTERMEYER
The Younger Quire Moods Publishing Co. 1911
First Love Sherman French & Co. 1911
Challenge The Century Company 1914
"--and Other Poets" Henry Holt and Company 1916
The Poems of Heinrich Heine Henry Holt and Company 1917
These Times Henry Holt and Company 1917
Including Horace Harcourt, Brace and Co. 1919
The New Adam Harcourt, Brace and Co. 1920
Heavens Harcourt, Brace and Co. 1922
JOHN GOULD FLETCHER
Fire and Wine Grant Richards (London) 1913
The Dominant City Max Goschen (London) 1913
Fool's Gold Max Goschen (London) 1913
The Book of Nature Constable & Co. (London) 1913
Visions of the Evening Erskine Macdonald (London) 1913
Irradiations Houghton Mifflin Co. 1915
Goblins and Pagodas Houghton Mifflin Co. 1916
Japanese Prints The Four Seas Company 1918
The Tree of Life The Macmillan Company 1919
Breakers and Granite The Macmillan Company 1921
JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER
Growing Pains B. W. Huebsch 1918
Dreams Out of Darkness B. W. Huebsch 1921
H. D.
Sea Garden Houghton Mifflin Co. 1916
Hymen Henry Holt and Co. 1921
CONRAD AIKEN
Earth Triumphant The Macmillan Company 1914
Turns and Movies Houghton Mifflin Co. 1916
The Jig of Forslin The Four Seas Company 1916
Nocturne of Remembered Spring The Four Seas Company 1917
The Charnel Rose The Four Seas Company 1918
The House of Dust The Four Seas Company 1920
Punch: the Immortal Liar Alfred A. Knopf 1921
EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY
Renascence Mitchell Kennerley 1917
A Few Figs from Thistles Frank Shay 1920
The Lamp and the Bell Frank Shay 1921
Aria Da Capo Mitchell Kennerley 1921
Second April Mitchell Kennerley 1921