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IN A GALE |
And now I know that I should pray,
That Thou would'st call Thy storm away
And on my knees should supplicate
(For other women watch and wait
Lord, show them pity evermore!
But I can neither weep nor pray, For oh, my dear is safe ashore,
And I go singing all the day.
Underneath the night sky, and out upon the heath, It makes a man feel lonesome, and scared at a breath. Maybe, in the open you're nearer up to God, But set my feet in well worn paths that other feet have trod/
Underneath the night sky the ghosts begin to creep— Ghosts that cry of evil things long laid to sleep, Little ghosts that whisper of a cold eternity. Oh, give me friends and fireside to warm my soul and me! Cecily Fryer
Crimson as ever skin pomegranate wore,
Were those soft, blushing cheeks of thine that flush no more— Alas!—since they no more are mine, Eleanore.
White as the gieaming seeds within the cloven core
Which now withhold their benison and blessing, nor
Gold as the gold upon the stem, or louis d'or—
Sharper and sweeter were the lips I hungered for
Scarlet and rich, red as a rose, forevermore
Ah, no! I'll not think that of thee. I set more store
Ripe was the scarlet fruit that fell. The branch that bore Must wait for winter snows. Ah, well, Eleanore,
Perhaps the spring will come again, but nevermore
That first, full love that ripened red, although we pour
Will never grow again. Alas! All that is o'er,
Crimson as ever fruit that grew and branches bore
Which spring will yet bring forth for me; but that's no SCOre Whereon my heart can happy be, Eleanore.
Fair was the fruit I gathered first: now, as before,
Love lasts like a lily,
I sit in the shade of a tree and sing
I am akin to this old tree,
Akin to all these growing things
My eager spirit sunward springs;
And deep I sink my roots, and deeper,
With each soft breath of the wee sleeper!
Out of the night I hear a voice,
The swift, white arms of the reaching waves
The foam hands grasp in the emptiness,
I lean to the night, I lean to the sea,
Where the barren stretch of the moon-laced waves
There is no comfort in the dark,
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