Captain Craig: A Book of Poems

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Macmillan, 1915 - 182 pages

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Page 122 - Dear friend, when you find this, I shall be dead. You are too far away to make me stop. They say that one drop — think of it, one drop! — Will be enough; but I'll take five instead. "You do not frown because I call you friend; For I would have you glad that I still keep Your memory, and even at the end — Impenitent, sick, shattered — cannot curse The love that flings, for better or for worse, This worn-out, cast-out flesh of mine to sleep.
Page 90 - Isaac, and it pleased him very much; And that pleased me — for I was twelve years old. At the end of an hour's walking after that The cottage of old Archibald appeared. Little and white and high on a smooth round hill It stood, with hackmatacks and apple-trees Before it, and a big barn-roof beyond; And over the place — trees, houses, fields and all — Hovered an air of still simplicity And a fragrance of old summers — the old style That lives the while it passes. I dare say That I was lightly...
Page 45 - I'll not except the scientist who dreamed That he was Adam and that he was Eve At the same time; or yet that other man Who dreamed that he was ^Eschylus, reborn To clutch, combine, compensate, and adjust The plunging and unfathomable chorus Wherein we catch, like a bacchanale through thunder, The chanting of the new Eumenides, Implacable, renascent, farcical, Triumphant, and American. He did it, But did it in a dream.
Page 93 - There was a fluted antique water-glass Close by, and in it, prisoned, or at rest, There was a cricket, of the brown soft sort That feeds on darkness. Isaac turned him out, And touched him with his thumb to make him jump, And then composedly pulled out the plug With such a practised hand that scarce a drop Did even touch his fingers.
Page 101 - I approached, But I was yet unseen when a dry voice Cried thinly, with unpatronizing triumph, "I've got you, Isaac; high, low, jack, and the game.' Isaac and Archibald have gone their way To the silence of the loved and well-forgotten. I knew them, and I may have laughed at them; But there's a laughing that has honor in it, And I have no regret for light words now. Rather I think sometimes they may have made Their sport of me;— but they would not do that, They were too old for that. They were old...
Page 1 - I DOUBT if ten men in all Tilbury Town Had ever shaken hands with Captain Craig, Or called him by his name, or looked at him So curiously, or BO concernedly, As they had looked at ashes ; but a few — Say five or six of us — had found somehow The spark in him, and we had fanned it there, Choked under, like a jest in Holy Writ, By Tilbury prudence.
Page 98 - So I lay dreaming of what things I would, Calm and incorrigibly satisfied With apples and romance and ignorance And the still smoke from Archibald's clay pipe. There was a stillness over everything As if the spirit of heat had laid its hand Upon the world and hushed it; and I felt Within the mightiness of the white sun That smote the land around us and wrought out A fragrance from the trees...
Page 93 - That they were Archibald's and not his own. "I never twist a spigot nowadays," He said, and raised the glass up to the light, "But I thank God for orchards." And that glass Was filled repeatedly for the same hand Before I thought it worth while to discern Again that I was young, and that old age, With all his woes, had some advantages.
Page 99 - We'll have a little game of seven-up And let the boy keep count."— "We'll have the game, Assuredly," said Isaac ; "and I think That I will have a drop of cider, also." They marched away together towards the house And left me to my childish ruminations Upon the ways of men. I followed them Down cellar with my fancy, and then left them For a fairer vision of all things at once That was anon to be destroyed again...
Page 95 - Stafford and the rest — But that's an old song now, and Archibald And Isaac are old men. Remember, boy, That we are old. Whatever we have gained, Or lost, or thrown away, we are old men. You look before you and we look behind, And we are playing life out in the shadow — But that's not all of it. The sunshine lights A good road yet before us if we look, And we are doing that when least we know it ; For both of us are children of the sun, Like you, and like the weed there at your feet. The shadow...

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