Zephyr Zephyr—Zephyr—Zephyr! Blow on, blow hard Over hill and over dale! O play in the green trees, leave nothing marred: O blow—O blow—O blow a gale! Zephyr—Zephyr—Zephyr! Play on, play long! Play and sing in tops of trees, And brush the valley’s airy green hair strong; Dip your head, diving down the leas! Zephyr—Zephyr—Zephyr, Like a little heifer, Frolic and lie In the field of the sky! Good-bye, good-bye! Frolic and turn and lie! _Arvia Mackaye._ The Swimming Pool O! crystal-clear, transparent water, The cool wind is thy joyous daughter. As I glide through thee, quick and sleek— Oh thou so quiet and so meek!— I feel thy ripples lapping free, And thou dost lie so near to me I see my figure on thy face, Entwined in shadows, linked like lace. Oh! what art thou? what canst thou be, That dost reflect my visage unto me? I know not what thou seemest to another, But thou to me art as a brother. To a Turtle O gallant knight in armour black Blotched with grey and yellow squares, A horny motto’s on thy breast: _Bravery_ it bears. O turtle, paddling through the grass That skirts the cobwebbed shining lawn! Come tell me true: where journey you This dewy dawn? I smell a pond, and in it are Young tadpoles, newly hatched and fresh, And larvas of mosquitoes plump And sweet of flesh; And whirligigs, that streak and dart Like water-lightning underneath The greenish cat-tail spears, that shade The frogspit heath. And there is oozy, deep, soft mud For me to lie and bask upon, And dine on lizards fat, and sleek Chameleon. And there the bright-green, freckled frog My only friend will always be. To him I haste:—To you I bend My jointless knee. _Robin Mackaye._ Book Discussion The Books of Poetry _Irradiations: Sand and Spray, by John Gould Fletcher. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company._