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For God has hung the Southern Cross
Above the kneeling hill.

VERA CRUZ

I see them in the storm-washed light,
Like ebony against the sand;
The wrecks of ships lost long ago
From many a mellow land.

Oh, may the sand soon cover them,
And all their sorrow be unlearned!
They are too like those dreams of mine
That nevermore returned.

SAN LUIS POTOSI

Oh, for the comet's trail
Across the purple sky,
So far we could not hear
The glory rushing by!

It will not come again

For more than ninety years, When we shall have forgotten

All our tears!

Grace Hazard Conkling

LOVE UNTOLD

I cannot tell®

How much I love you.

A haunting legend frightens me.

The men who dared for Helen
Knew sacredly

What I have learned and fear:
The swan that sings its soul

Must die, my dear,

Must die.

I cannot tell

How much I love you.

But

There was a Man

Once, long ago,

Who loved you so divinely,

That he hung upon a cross

And died

Died shamefully-for you.

My darling, would you understand?

I cannot tell

How much I love you, sweet-my-dear, Unless I die

Unless I die.

PEOPLE

I cannot understand people.
They are so strange.

I had a sweetheart

Who seemed to love me.

I gave her roses, sweets, and gems.
I gave her all I had-my heart-
And she broke it.

I cannot forgive her.
Women are heartless.

God had a world

That should have loved Him.
He gave it beauty, light, and life.
He gave it all He had-His Son-
And it crucified Him.

People are strange.

I cannot understand them.

But God

He loves them.

Earl Marlatt

NEW LIFE

WITH CHILD

Ah, I am heavy now and patient,

Moving as the dumb, tamed animals move, ploddingly,
Burdened, burdened;

Knowing ahead of me the iron pain-yet am I dumb and

patient.

A stillness is thick and heavy upon me

Waiting

Inevitably you unfold within me.

Sudden I am smitten with terror

How shall I carry the burden of a soul!

ATTACK

My nerves are riding a race-horse.

I shall storm, storm through the gates of pain, I shall win victory.

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They have me again in the birth-room,

Where all night long I lay in a rhythm of agony,

Horrible hell-rhythm of birth-giving!

Pain.

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There is a single white, sweet star in the sky.
It is afloat in illimitable peace.

I have achieved it, I have set it in the sky-
My baby!

WITHIN MY ARMS

Little tugger,

Little drawer of milk,

Feeding from me as your life drew through mine in the

darkness,

What flows again from you to me, seeker?

Currents are about us

Do you think it you tugging,

My breast that is being tugged!

Ah, little beloved,

We do not know rightly

In what stream we are drifting!

Florence Kiper Frank

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