..
Come away from that tree
And its shadow grey as a stone...
Bathe in the pools of light
On the hillside shimmering--
Shining and wetted and warm in the sun-spray falling like golden rain--
But do not linger and look
At that bleak thing under the tree.
THE STAR
Last night
I watched a star fall like a great pearl into the sea,
Till my ego expanding encompassed sea and star,
Containing both as in a trembling cup.
THE TIDINGS
(Easter 1916)
Censored lies that mimic truth...
Censored truth as pale as fear...
My heart is like a rousing bell--
And but the dead to hear...
My heart is like a mother bird,
Circling ever higher,
And the nest-tree rimmed about
By a forest fire...
My heart is like a lover foiled
By a broken stair--
They are fighting to-night in Sackville Street,
And I am not there!
End of Project Gutenberg's The Ghetto and Other Poems, by Lola Ridge
Pages:
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50