Joy hast thou not withheld, nor love denied, Nor any beauty dimmed on earth or sky, Yet by thy will I roam unsatisfied. But couldst thou hear again that earliest plea, Again my choice would flout the lesser gift, And willing take this task thou grantest me-- To search the heart and secret of the whole, To twine the eager hues of varied days, And to its bright perfection weave a soul. VIVISECTION We saw unpitying skill In curious hands put living flesh apart, Till, bare and terrible, the tiny heart Pulsed, and was still. We saw Grief’s sudden knife Strip through the pleasant flesh of soul-disguise-- Lay for a second’s space before our eyes A naked life. THE STRANGER She sat so quiet day by day, The sweet withdrawal of a nun, With busy hands and downward eyes-- The shyest thing beneath the sun. Nor knew we, tossing each to each Our rapid speech, our careless words, That through them, always, half-afraid, Her thoughts had gone like seeking birds, Plucking a twig, a shining straw, A happy thread with silken gleams, To carry homeward to her heart, And weave a hidden nest of dreams. THE CONSTANT ONES The tossing trees had every flag unfurled To hail their chief, but now the sun is set, And in the sweet new quiet on the world The king is dead, the fickle leaves forget. A placid earth, an air serene and still; In misty blue the gradual smoke is thinned-- Only the grasses, leaning to his will, The grasses hold a memory of wind. INSTINCT To Reason with the praise of one I go To fall back, silent, at her whispered “No.” And always of the other says she, “Trust-- He doeth thus and thus, O thou unjust!” Yet meet one eye to eye and queries end-- An eager hand goes out to greet a friend, And let the other please me, soon or late Wakes with a hiss the little snake of hate. SAN FRANCISCO NEW YEAR’S, 1907 Said the Old Year to the New: “They will never welcome you As they sang me in and rang me in upon my birthday night-- All above the surging crowd, bells and voices calling loud-- A throng attuned to laughter and a city all alight. “Kind had been the years of old, drowsy-lidded, zoned with gold; They swept their purples down the bay and sped the homeward keel; The years of fruits and peace, smiling days and rich increase-- Too indolent with wine and sun to grasp the slaying steel. “As my brothers so I came, panther-treading, silken, tame; The sword was light within my hand, I kept it sheathed and still-- The jeweled city prayed me and the laughing voices stayed me-- A little while I pleased them well and gave them all their will.