Herbs and Apples

THERE IS NO DANGER IN DISDAIN

There is no danger in disdain,No grief in perfidy;The meek they are who taste of painAnd matchless misery.The hearts who give, and giving, die,Could they but learn the wayTo take, and laugh and then deny,They still might live their day.

THE PLAYMATE

Brown boy running on a wide wet beach,Free as the water and the wind are free;Eyes of an odalisque and skin of a peach,O for such a playmate to play with me!—Drenched with the sunshine of the long brave hours,How we would tumble in the white wild spray;Then, drowsy children, fall asleep like the flowers,And wake keen and merry to a new clean day.

AFTERWARDS

You know how I came to you,World beaten, tossed aside;Ready for death at a hangman's hand,Stript of all hope or pride.Leaning, you gathered me upClose to your great sweet heart,Lulled me and told me to be a man,Taught me your wonderful art.Now I am very wise,Proud with your love's true vow;Glorious with power,—I am more than a man,What will you do with me now!

THE OLD MAID

Ah, Heaven! How soon my body will be old!I powder and I perfume and I tireWith the long wasting of my one desire.I choose fair colors, furs, and antique goldTo draw men's eyes and hands, and yet how cold,How careless are their eyes. I see the fireFlame from my neighbor, and I can aspireTo only friendship. I have tried the bold,The luring attitude, the timid mien,The boyish, wise, or simple, all in vain.I know the women laugh at me, but oh,How can I let my dreamed perfection go?I am a woman, I must have a manOnly to ratify my nature's plan.

MADNESS?

They say I'm mad because I stareAnd look as tho' they were not there,Because I only speak when aughtOccurs to me by way of thought.Instead of serving Fashion's creeds,I cut my coat to fit my needs.I laugh at grief and only weepWhen noisy life disturbs my sleep.My dreams are delicate and wild;Was ever wise man so beguiled?—Mad, am I mad!—then pray that youMay some day hope for madness too!

THE SCHOLAR

From what sweet masters have I fathomed doubt,What love and laughter taught me to be blind;How patient did they point the letters outLatin and Greek to my bewildered mind.Now I am very wise, I know the 'a'The little 'a' of doubt's first faint distressThen, letter perfect, I recall the wayThro' all the alphabet of bitterness.

WISDOM'S SECRET

Coerced by Furies who persuaded meThat life was imminent with idleness,Their jibes made mad, their lashes aided meTo grasp the accident of bitterness.Come storm! I cried, come passion and despair,For calm inhibits growth!—I called on fireTo sear my comfortable days, and wearThe nights to wastes of torment and desire.Then pausing breathless, in a little woodI met with Wisdom laughing in the sun;She said, "Lie still, for idleness is good,And grow in peace as I myself have done."

CAGED

Once I had wings—I had no heart to fly,They put me in a cage, I did not die.They tamed me, taught me tricks and bade me sing;I waited, bore it patiently; one thingI knew, that some day it might beThe cage would open and I should be free.I waited endlessly,—at last the day!Faint with delight I thought to fly away,Ah, but the mockery of that open door!—My wings were powerless, I could fly no more.

THE WIFE SPEAKS

Not all those women you have loved and left,O my Beloved, can stir my jealousy;Not the light loves which you forgot for me,For my heart's fingers made by life most deftHave mended all the rents their arrows cleftAnd from their old enchantments set you free.But one is my despair, and only she,The one who loved you, hopeless and bereft.How can I give as much, who hold your heartAs she, unloved who gave with scorn of gain?So do the angels; at her name I smartAnd feel a sordid bargainer who givesFor fair exchange; I cannot heal the pain,I am defeated by her while she lives.

THE ALTAR

Some take comfort from a star,Thro' the slow grey surge of Time,Some take joy from ruddy war,Lust of conflict, heat of crime.In these days of codes and creeds,Gods may wander newly born,Every day for each man's needsBringing blessings thro' the morn.I will take a happy word,Open heart and hand for play,And a song which none have heardFor my altar of the day.