There are within us lives we never live By sense or soul, for being does not know To tell their depth or breast their flow Or to taste the sweetness that they give. And now in distance, now in voices still, In pity or in harmony, in sleep, We lead unconscious lives, old, deep, Upon the far slope of an unknown hill. Is it not here that life walks wreathed at last? Many a soul meets many a soul with this: That muted lips and wistful eyes are passed In silence; yet a sign there is Burning in air, though but a shadow fall Or some pale sunbeam steal along the wall. LAST NIGHT I DREAMED I SAW MY MOTHER YOUNG Last night I dreamed I saw my mother young. I never knew her till her hair was grey; Last night I saw the shadows lit away And pearls about her shoulders strung. Out from our haunts of home among She came as if she knew them not. There lay Old hope in her young eyes. And gay Her speech came in some laughing tongue. I who had watched the stolen march of days And would not see the theft which was their sign Moved happily to meet her, mute with praise For this the witchery that made her fair. But yet the pretty hand that lay in mine Was not the one I love upon my hair. WHY AM I SILENT? Why am I silent? Tell me how to speak With all the sweet familiars of the way; Call Summer by her name; and with the Day Walk royally companioned cheek on cheek For that faint speech awhile withheld, that weak Task of the Word undone is the great Nay, The winged thunder that denies the ray. Yet once when first I saw the hapless Greek By present impulse of the god urged on Seek out the shadow of the awful grove, I felt the word. I caught it once again In a sweet flash of arrowy sun that shone Thickening on flowers. But when You sorrowed, Love, I knew it then.... I WANDERED WHERE THE WONDER OF THE SKY---- I wandered where the wonder of the sky Was wide upon me. Isle beyond isle the east Was signing that the Summer night had ceased Upon the dawn. Then came a stranger by Immersed in the magic as was I. We stood together at the sorcerer’s feast Saying half-words; and as the day increased We parted with a farewell almost shy. Something was there. There was drawn silently Through into life some fiery, clouded thing. O wise For one sweet flash of time we stood to see Death and the Inbeing Lie dreaming in each other’s eyes. HERE A STILL FIELD