Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/215
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
THE GOLDEN FLEECE
I know that life is Jason,
And that beauty is the witch-maiden helping him.
I know that the soft, luminous night of stars
Is the golden fleece he is seeking.
I know that in the beginning
He sowed the boulders, the teeth of dead ages,
And the innumerable armored cities have arisen.
I know that he has thrown among them love and desire,
And they have warred and shall war with each other until the end.
And if you doubt the least word I have said,
Come out on the dark beach some strange summer night
And watch the huge quivering serpent of the ocean
Still coiled around the trunk of the tree of paradise.
And that beauty is the witch-maiden helping him.
I know that the soft, luminous night of stars
Is the golden fleece he is seeking.
I know that in the beginning
He sowed the boulders, the teeth of dead ages,
And the innumerable armored cities have arisen.
I know that he has thrown among them love and desire,
And they have warred and shall war with each other until the end.
And if you doubt the least word I have said,
Come out on the dark beach some strange summer night
And watch the huge quivering serpent of the ocean
Still coiled around the trunk of the tree of paradise.
Poetry, A Magazine of VerseOscar Williams
CANOPUS
Up from the smooth dust of the road they turned.
The shivery spider cables spread a net
Across the climbing path that teased and burned
Their faces, which the dew-sprayed leaves left wet;
Defenseless cheeks were clawed by trespassing bramble
And vagabonding sumach, Their fingers met,
Anchors to steady each unsteady scramble.
The shivery spider cables spread a net
Across the climbing path that teased and burned
Their faces, which the dew-sprayed leaves left wet;
Defenseless cheeks were clawed by trespassing bramble
And vagabonding sumach, Their fingers met,
Anchors to steady each unsteady scramble.
Their nervous feet struck stones, that toppled over
The terraced outcrop, and, at last let loose,
Clattered to rest against stray tufts of clover.
Boughs broke off in their grasp, and were no use,
And underneath the brittle twigs snapped shrill.
At length the firmer sassafras and spruce
Gave hand-holds as they met the steeper hill.
The terraced outcrop, and, at last let loose,
Clattered to rest against stray tufts of clover.
Boughs broke off in their grasp, and were no use,
And underneath the brittle twigs snapped shrill.
At length the firmer sassafras and spruce
Gave hand-holds as they met the steeper hill.
200