- 1. To John Keats, Poet, At Spring Time
I cannot hold my peace, John Keats;
There never was a spring like this;
It is an echo, that repeats
My last year's song and next year's bliss.
...
- 2. Saturday's Child
Some are teethed on a silver spoon,
With the stars strung for a rattle;
I cut my teeth as the black racoon--
For implements of battle.
...
- 3. Lines To My Father
The many sow, but only the chosen reap;
Happy the wretched host if Day be brief,
That with the cool oblivion of sleep
A dawnless Night may soothe the smart of grief.
...
- 4. Fruit Of The Flower
My father is a quiet man
With sober, steady ways;
For simile, a folded fan;
His nights are like his days.
...
- 5. I Have A Rendezvous With Life
I have a rendezvous with Life,
In days I hope will come,
Ere youth has sped, and strength of mind,
Ere voices sweet grow dumb.
...
- 6. The Shroud Of Color
"Lord, being dark," I said, "I cannot bear
The further touch of earth, the scented air;
Lord, being dark, forewilled to that despair
My color shrouds me in, I am as dirt
...
- 7. That Bright Chimeric Beast
That bright chimeric beast
Conceived yet never born,
Save in the poet's breast,
The white-flanked unicorn,
...
