Unimaginably clear.

There is no sky, no distance;

The friendly wood leans near.

In wet, luxurious moss I plant my feet,
Unimaginably white;

It pleases me to think of my white body here,
Released in fair water, to charm

A delicate lover.

Jeune Fille

PASTEL

She has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness,
Like pale streams winding far and hills withdrawn
From the bright reaches of the noon. Dawn
Is her lifting fancy, but her heart

Is orchard boughs and dusk and quietness.

A GALLANT WOMAN

She burst fierce wine

From the tough skin of pain,

Like wind that wrings from rigid skies

A scant and bitter gleam,

Long after the autumnal dusk

Has folded all the valleys in.

SCHERZO

The elder's bridal in July,

Bright as a cloud!

A ripe blonde girl,

Billowing to the ground in foamy petticoats,

With breasts full-blown

Swelling her bodice.

But later

When the small black-ruddy berries.

Tempt the birds to strip the stems,

And the leaves begin to yellow and fall off
While late summer's still in its green,

Then you look lank and used-up,

Elder;

Your big bones stick out,

You're the kind of woman

Wears bleak at forty.

I'll take my constant pleasure

In a willow-tree that ripples silver

All the summer.

And when the winter comes in greasy rags

Like a half-naked beggar,

Lets out the plaited splendor

Of her bright and glancing hair.

Clara Shanafelt

POEMS OF HAPPINESS

VISION

I entered the Cathedral

Enter erot
separately

роши und

Not a Gothic one, with broadly spreading arches,

But with dwarfed limbs, tortured

By economy.

It was draped in feeble mourning,

And a purple memorial to a ponderous bishop

Hung before the altar of Christ.

To the right was a candle-lit shrine,

Of raw colors.

Before it knelt a man

Eyes closed, hands raised, lips moving

A passion of prayer.

Perhaps he had been caught in a crimeWas smitten with disease-owed money, And was afraid.

Perhaps perhaps―

On his soul

And on the world.

Then he took his paper

And his hat,

And went to catch the trolley.

Oh, my dim eyes!—

How often divinity wears

A derby hat,

And carries

A sporting extra!

FAIR WEATHER AND I HAPPY

The sky, yesterday heavy as earth, Made me alone bear its weight. Today it flies-floats

High as Thy mercies:

And where the light is most glorious

There am I-at the zenith

Singing with the sun.

HAPPINESS

A blue sky, with the morning's freshness in it;
A live wind on the hill-top blowing free;
The thin clear pipe of some close-perching linnet:
Beyond the hills the sunlight on the sea.

Though sometimes you have to scream
At Baby-

To make him pay attention

If he is playing, and you want him to come.

After grace is over

I feel quite new

And very clean.

Rosalind Mason