Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/171
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Their eyes are clean and white in their black faces;
If they like, they are surly, can speak an ugly no;
They laugh great blocks of mirth, their jokes are simple;
They know where they stand, which way they go.
If they like, they are surly, can speak an ugly no;
They laugh great blocks of mirth, their jokes are simple;
They know where they stand, which way they go.
If I wore overalls, lost my disguise
Of womanhood and youth, they would call me friend;
They would see I am one of them, and we could talk
And laugh together, and smoke at the day's end.
Of womanhood and youth, they would call me friend;
They would see I am one of them, and we could talk
And laugh together, and smoke at the day's end.
Marjorie Allen Seiffert
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse
TWO WOMEN
Two faint shadows of women were ascending
The pathway of a desolate hill,
Pale as moth-wings beneath the low-bending
Sycamore branches, in the moonlight paler still.
The pathway of a desolate hill,
Pale as moth-wings beneath the low-bending
Sycamore branches, in the moonlight paler still.
"This one is dead," said the moon; "her face is ashen,
She is dry as a withered leaf—
What has she known of beauty or of passion
To come by moonlight to the mountain of grief?"
She is dry as a withered leaf—
What has she known of beauty or of passion
To come by moonlight to the mountain of grief?"
"The other too is dead," said the earth, "yet her feet are burning—
I feel them hot and restless as blown fire.
She has known many paths, why is she turning
Here, from the secret valley of desire?"
I feel them hot and restless as blown fire.
She has known many paths, why is she turning
Here, from the secret valley of desire?"
They passed, the moon paled, and from leafy places
Morning crept forth. At last they came
From the mountain of grief—women with tear-wet faces
Who had been withered leaf and shadow of flame.
Morning crept forth. At last they came
From the mountain of grief—women with tear-wet faces
Who had been withered leaf and shadow of flame.
Marjorie Allen Seiffert
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse
Poetry, A Magazine of Verse
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