poems25

MY LOST YOUTH
I remember the gleams and glooms that dart
Across the school-boy�s brain;
The song and the silence in the heart,
That in part are prophecies, and in part,
Are longings wild and vain.

There are things of which I may not speak;
There are dreams that cannot die;
There are thoughts that make the strong man weak,
And bring a pallor into the cheek,
And a mist before the eye.

And the woods are fresh and fair,
And with joy that is almost pain
My heart goes back to wander there,
And among the dreams of the days that were,
I find my lost youth again,
And the strange and beautiful song,
Is sighing and whispering still:
�A boy�s will is the wind�s will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.�
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LIVE OAK GROWING
I saw in Louisiana, a live-oak growing,
All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches,
Without any companion it grew there
   uttering joyous leaves of dark green,
And it�s look, rude, unbending, lusty,
   made me think of myself.
But I wondered how it could utter joyous leaves standing
   alone there without it�s friend near, for I knew I could not.
And I broke off a twig with a certain number
   of leaves upon it, and twinned around it a little moss,
And brought it away, and I have placed it in sight in my room,
It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends,
(For I believe lately I think of little else than of them)
Yet it remains to me a curious token,
   it makes me think of manly love;
For all that, and though the live-oak glistens
   there in Louisiana solitary in a flat space,
Uttering joyous leaves all it�s life without a friend or lover near,
I know very well I could not.
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BYE THE SEA
I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;
The mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me.

But no man moved me �til the tide
Went past my simple shoe,
And past my apron and my belt,
And past my bodice too.

And made as he would eat me up
As wholly as a dew
Upon a dandelion�s sleeve -
And then I started too.

And he - he followed close behind:
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl.

Until we met in the solid town,
No man he seemed to know;
And bowing with a mighty look
At me, the sea withdrew.