Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/155
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7
Like wolves
The winds came upon my fruit trees,
And tore them to the ground;
But there are no stones
To kill the wolves of the wind,
And no curses to wither their teeth.
The winds came upon my fruit trees,
And tore them to the ground;
But there are no stones
To kill the wolves of the wind,
And no curses to wither their teeth.
The New RepublicDavid Rosenthal
HILLTOP DUET
The Tree
Old Vagabond Wind,
Will you never take root?
Will you never settle down
To the soil,
And bear fruit?
Old Vagabond Wind,
Will you never take root?
Will you never settle down
To the soil,
And bear fruit?
The Wind
Old Stay-at-home Tree,
Will you never take wing?
Will you never break loose,
And roam free
Like a king?
Old Stay-at-home Tree,
Will you never take wing?
Will you never break loose,
And roam free
Like a king?
Both
The earth is for you,
And the air is for me—
But the poor little fishes,
(Those little white fishes)
Must stay in the sea,
In the cold slimy sea—
Brrr . . .
The earth is for you,
And the air is for me—
But the poor little fishes,
(Those little white fishes)
Must stay in the sea,
In the cold slimy sea—
Brrr . . .
Emmy Veronica Sanders
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse
140