He springs renewed from a lusty bed He drowses, for April flames outspread The strength of men is for husbandry Of woman's flesh: Worker, soldier, magistrate Of city or realm; Artist, builder, wrestling Fate Lest it overwhelm The brood or the race, or the cherished state. They sing at the helm When the waters roar and the waves are great, And the gale is fresh. There are two miracles, women and men— Yea, four there be: A woman's flesh, and the strength of a man, And a babe from the womb in a little span Their rapturous arms entwine and cling He hunts for her face for his wondering, A woman's flesh is soil, but the spring SONG OF WOMEN How beautiful is the flesh of women- My wonder is a flame which burns, A flame which rests; It is a flame which no wind turns, And a flame which quests. I know a woman who has red lips, Her throat is tied narcissus, it dips From her white-rose chin. Her throat curves like a cloud to the land Where her breasts begin I close my eyes when I put my hand On her breast's white skin. The flesh of woman is like the sky When bare is the moon: Rhythm of backs, hollow of necks, And sea-shell loins. I know a woman whose splendors vex Where the flesh joins A slope of light and a circumflex Of clefts and coigns. She thrills like the air when silence wrecks An ended tune. These are things not made by hands in the earth: Water and fire, The air of heaven, and springs afresh, And love's desire. And a thing not made is a woman's flesh, She tightens the strings on the lyric lyre, And she drips the wine. Her breasts bud out as pink and nesh For fire and water and air are flesh, SONG OF THE HUMAN SPIRIT How beautiful is the human spirit It takes no thought of the chary dole. Of the light of day. It labors and loves as it were a soul Whom the gods repay With length of life and à golden goal At the end of the way. There are souls I know who arch a dome, And tunnel a hill. They chisel in marble and fashion in chrome, And measure the sky. They find the good and destroy the ill, And they bend and ply The laws of nature out of a will While the fates deny. I wonder and worship the human spirit Numbers and symbols, and how they reach A harp, a battle-ship, thought and speech, It ponders its nature to turn and teach, The human spirit is God, no doubt, In flesh made the word: Jesus, Beethoven and Raphael, And the souls who heard Beyond the rim of the world the swell Of an ocean stirred By a Power on the waters inscrutable. There are souls who gird Their loins in faith that the world is well, In a faith unblurred. How beautiful is the human spirit The flesh made the word! Edgar Lee Masters THE PRICE What is it you buy with so much blood And so much sorrow? A thing but darkly understood- Why is it you sow with blasting flame To reap with passion? When was it then that a good thing came In an easy fashion? Have you not also fallen and sinned? We are but as straws that show the wind, Iniquity, iniquity, Though much befriended, Yet it shall perish utterly; It shall be ended! Do you see then an end of wars, We see the reticent ranks of stars Shine on our sleeping. |