Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/23
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ECSTASY
I could never be properly dead,
For even alone in my grave,
These songs would go on in my head,
And May in my veins would rave.
For even alone in my grave,
These songs would go on in my head,
And May in my veins would rave.
No grief or sorrow or pain
Could bind me utterly down;
I should go shout with the rain,
And burst, with June, through the town.
Could bind me utterly down;
I should go shout with the rain,
And burst, with June, through the town.
No ancient hurt of the stars,
That scarred my heart at its birth,
Could ever make silent in me,
The songs that I sing for the earth.
That scarred my heart at its birth,
Could ever make silent in me,
The songs that I sing for the earth.
Kenneth Slade Alling
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West
The Midland, A Magazine of the Middle West
ST. AGNES' MORNING
Between the dawn and the sun's rising
She could not sleep, so the blood stirred in her;
She could not, and in the cold morning
Woke with the white curtains' stir,
She could not sleep, so the blood stirred in her;
She could not, and in the cold morning
Woke with the white curtains' stir,
Between the dawn and the river's flaming
She folded a curtain toward the sea,
And, bending, lifted silks together
In the cold light, dubiously.
She folded a curtain toward the sea,
And, bending, lifted silks together
In the cold light, dubiously.
In the cold air, pulsing the curtain,
She lifted silks; and let them fall.
In the wind she bent above them
Hearing their rustling musical.
She lifted silks; and let them fall.
In the wind she bent above them
Hearing their rustling musical.
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