She caught and kept his first vague flickering smile, The faint upleaping of his spirit's fire; And for a long sweet while In her was all he asked of earth or heaven-- But in the end how far, Past every shaken star, Should leap at last that arrow-like desire, His full-grown manhood's keen Ardor toward the unseen Dark mystery beyond the Pleiads seven. And in her heart she heard His first dim-spoken word-- She only of them all could understand, Flushing to feel at last The silence over-past, Thrilling as tho' her hand had touched God's hand. But in the end how many words Winged on a flight she could not follow, Farther than skyward lark or swallow, His lips should free to lands she never knew; Braver than white sea-faring birds With a fearless melody, Flying over a shining sea, A star-white song between the blue and blue. Oh I have seen a lake as clear and fair As it were molten air, Lifting a lily upward to the sun. How should the water know the glowing heart That ever to the heaven lifts its fire, A golden and unchangeable desire? The water only knows The faint and rosy glows Of under-petals, opening apart. Yet in the soul of earth, Deep in the primal ground, Its searching roots are wound, And centuries have struggled toward its birth. So, in the man who sings, All of the voiceless horde From the cold dawn of things Have their reward; All in whose pulses ran Blood that is his at last, From the first stooping man Far in the winnowed past. Out of the tumult of their love and mating Each one created, seeing life was good-- Dumb, till at last the song that they were waiting Breaks like brave April thru a wintry wood. RIVERS TO THE SEA But what of her whose heart is troubled by it, The mother who would soothe and set him free, Fearing the song's storm-shaken ecstasy-- Oh, as the moon that has no power to quiet The strong wind-driven sea. . IN MEMORIAM F. O. S. You go a long and lovely journey, For all the stars, like burning dew, Are luminous and luring footprints Of souls adventurous as you. Oh, if you lived on earth elated, How is it now that you can run Free of the weight of flesh and faring Far past the birthplace of the sun? TWILIGHT THE stately tragedy of dusk Drew to its perfect close, The virginal white evening star Sank, and the red moon rose. SWALLOW FLIGHT I LOVE my hour of wind and light, I love men's faces and their eyes, I love my spirit's veering flight Like swallows under evening skies, THOUGHTS WHEN I can make my thoughts come forth To walk like ladies up and down, Each one puts on before the glass Her most becoming hat and gown. But oh, the shy and eager thoughts That hide and will not get them dressed, Why is it that they always seem So much more lovely than the rest?