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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] The wind is blowing freshly up from far, uncharted caves, And sending sparkling kisses o'er the brows of virgin waves, While routed dawnmists shiveroh, far and fast they flee, Pierced by the shafts of sunrise athwart the merry sea! Behind us, fair, lightsmitten hills in dappled splendor lie, Before us the wide ocean runs to meet the limpid sky Our hearts are full of poignant life, and care has fled afar As sweeps the whitewinged fishing fleet across the harbor bar. [Page 35] The sea is calling to us in a blithesome voice and free, There's keenest rapture on its breast and boundless liberty! Each man is master of his craft, its gleaming sails outblown, And far behind him on the shore a home he calls his own. Salt is the breath of ocean slopes and fresher blows the breeze, And swifter still each bounding keel cuts through the combing seas, Athwart our masts the shadows of the dipping seagulls float, And all the waterworld's alive when the fishing boats go out. Lucy Maud Montgomery www.PoemHunter.com The World's Poetry Archive 102 Which Has More Patience -- Man or Woman? As my letter must be brief, I'll at once state my belief, And this it is that, since the world began, And Adam first did say, "'Twas Eve led me astray," A woman hath more patience than a man. If a man's obliged to wait For some one who's rather late, No mortal ever got in such a stew, And if something can't be found That he's sure should be around, The listening air sometimes grows fairly blue. Just watch a man who tries To soothe a baby's cries; Or put a stove pipe up in weather cold, Into what a state he'll get; How he'll fuss and fume and fret And stamp and bluster round and storm and scold! Some point to Job with pride, As an argument for their side! Why, it was so rare a patient man to see, That when one was really found, His discoverers were bound To preserve for him a place in history! And while I admit it's true That man has some patience too, And that woman isn't always sweetly calm, Still I think all must agree On this central fact that she For central allround patience bears the palm. Lucy Maud Montgomery www.PoemHunter.com The World's Poetry Archive 103 While the Fates Sleep Come, let us to the sunways of the west, Hasten, while crystal dews the rosecups fill, Let us dream dreams again in our blithe quest O'er whispering wold and hill. Castles of air yon wimpling valleys keep Where milkwhite mist steals from the purpling sea, They shall be ours in the moon's wizardry, While the fates, wearied, sleep. The viewless spirit of the wind will sing In the soft starshine by the reedy mere, The elfin harps of hemlock boughs will ring Fitfully far and near; The fields will yield their trove of spice and musk, And balsam from the glens of pine will fall, Till twilight weaves its tangled shadows all In one dim web of dusk. Let us put tears and memories away, While the fates sleep time stops for revelry; Let us look, speak, and kiss as if no day Has been or yet will be; Let us make friends with laughter 'neath the moon, With music on the immemorial shore, Yea, let us dance as lovers danced of yore The fates will waken soon! Lucy Maud Montgomery www.PoemHunter.com The World's Poetry Archive 104 With Tears They Buried You Today With tears they buried you today, But well I knew no turf could hold Your gladness long beneath the mould, Or cramp your laughter in the clay; I smiled while others wept for you Because I knew. And now you sit with me tonight Here in our old, accustomed place; Tender and mirthful is your face, Your eyes with starry joy are bright Oh, you are merry as a song For love is strong! They think of you as lying there Down in the churchyard grim and old; They think of you as mute and cold, A wan, white thing that once was fair, With dim, sealed eyes that never may Look on the day. But love cannot be coffined so In clod and darkness; it must rise And seek its own in radiant guise, With immortality aglow, Making of death's triumphant sting A little thing. Ay, we shall laugh at those who deem Our hearts are sundered! Listen, sweet, The tripping of the wind's swift feet Along the byways of our dream, And hark the whisper of the rose Wilding that blows. Oh, still you love those simple things, And still you love them more with me; The grave has won no victory; It could not clasp your shining wings, It could not keep you from my side, Dear and my bride! Lucy Maud Montgomery www.PoemHunter.com The World's Poetry Archive 105 You Only a long, lowlying lane That follows to the misty sea, Across a bare and russet plain Where wild winds whistle vagrantly; I know that many a fairer path With lure of song and bloom may woo, But oh ! I love this lonely strath Because it is so full of you. Here we have walked in elder years, And here your truest memories wait, This spot is sacred to your tears, That to your laughter dedicate; Here, by this turn, you gave to me A gem of thought that glitters yet, This tawny slope is graciously By a remembered smile beset. Here once you lingered on an hour When stars were shining in the west, To gather one pale, scented flower And place it smiling on your breast; And since that eve its fragrance blows For me across the grasses sere, Far sweeter than the latest rose, That faded bloom of yesteryear. For me the sky, the sea, the wold, Have beckoning visions wild and fair, The mystery of a tale untold, The grace of an unuttered prayer. Let others choose the fairer path That winds the dimpling valley through, I gladly seek this lonely strath Companioned by my dreams of you. Lucy Maud Montgomery www.PoemHunter.com The World's Poetry Archive 106 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |