The World that God Destroyed, and Other Poems

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Yale University Press, 1911 - American poetry - 173 pages
 

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Page 111 - Fluttered above its ramparts; none could tell If this were tyrant's hold or Freedom's shrine. Southward a heap of grassy mounds proclaimed Where once had been a city; homes and baths, Soft haunts of luring sin, and dungeons dread, And churches towering Godward, — all were now But tangled hillocks and the mantling brier. The upas dripped its poison on the ground Harmless; the silvery veil of fog went up From moldering fen and cold, malarial pool, But brought no taint and threatened ill to none....
Page 146 - O'er the buried bride of the Northern Pole. And there when the winds blow wild and bleak From ancient glacier and icy shoal, The tear drops freeze on the withered cheek Of a lonely watcher, — 'tis Imranole. His hair streams white on the howling blast, And his beard waves white, like a floating scroll ; And I know his grief by a sorrow past, And the silent bond of a kindred soul.
Page 112 - ... pool, But brought no taint and threatened ill to none. Far off adown the mountain's craggy side From time to time the avalanche thundered, sounding Like sport of giant children, and the rocks Whereon it smote reechoed innocently. Then in a pause of silence Lucifer Struck music from the harp again and sang. "I am the shadow that the sunbeams bring, I am the thorn from which the roses spring; Without the thorn would be no blossoming, Nor were there shadow if there were no gleam. I am a leaf before...
Page 146 - ... Never a whisper nor mortal sound Was heard in those caves of the Northern Pole, Where the maiden sat as the years rolled round, Taught and tended by gnome and troll, Till her terror died, and a mighty love Over her heart like music stole; And the bridal lamps gleamed bright above, As she knelt by her lover, soul to soul.
Page 145 - All bright with silver and veined with gold Were those caverns hammered by gnome and troll; But lonely ever and wintry cold Was the heart of the elfin Imranole.
Page 111 - Struck music from the angel's harp and sang. I am the shadow that the sunbeams bring, I am the thorn from which the roses spring ; Without the thorn would be no blossoming, Nor were there shadow if there were no gleam. I am a leaf before a wind that blows, I am the foam that down the current goes ; I work a work on earth that no man knows, And God works too, — I am not what I seem.
Page 110 - Nor saviour here art thou, nor tempter I, For all the race of man are things gone by; None curse me here beneath this empty sky; Why dost thou linger, why am I abhorred? Nor good nor evil dwells in stones and herbs...
Page 145 - Now tell me why is your hair so white, You stern old man from across the way; And why did you wait so long to-night By the grassy grave where the roses lay?
Page 157 - We look before and after, and pine for what is not. Our prerogative is also our burden. "We look before and after." And what do we see? Behind me stands the flaming sword The Vales of Eden trod no more; And bitter, dark, and unexplored, The alien deserts wait before. We have grown out of barbarism by knowledge of cause and consequence. Our ability to predict the future is the unit measure of our civilization. What we predict is the measure of its quality. Hajji, the Turk of legend and fable, was...
Page 61 - Beneath that awful gleam. The crawling brine Had filled their streets; and waves like batteringrams Demolished home and fane. On beetling roofs, Yet stedfast, jutting dark against the fire, Moved frantic forms, whose cry methought I heard Through stormy miles between.

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