Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/33
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BRIEF LIFE
Brief as the creaming waves that break and run
Back to the deep, as butterflies that flitter
From flower to flower, as icicles that glitter
Their keen defiance to the fatal sun;
Brief as from tiny breast of cinnamon
The bluebird's warble, or the swallow's twitter,
This life of ours. Though it be sweet or bitter,
'Tis but a wing-beat and the flight is done.
Back to the deep, as butterflies that flitter
From flower to flower, as icicles that glitter
Their keen defiance to the fatal sun;
Brief as from tiny breast of cinnamon
The bluebird's warble, or the swallow's twitter,
This life of ours. Though it be sweet or bitter,
'Tis but a wing-beat and the flight is done.
Yet on the lip the billow's windy froth
Tastes of the sea; summer is in the call
Of bird, in airy motion of the moth.
There sparkles in that fragile crystal lance
The miracle of light. 'Tis but a glance
And we are gone; yet the least life holds all.
Tastes of the sea; summer is in the call
Of bird, in airy motion of the moth.
There sparkles in that fragile crystal lance
The miracle of light. 'Tis but a glance
And we are gone; yet the least life holds all.
The Yale ReviewKatharine Lee Bates
WINTER BURIAL
Earth, will you be kind to her?
I give her back . . .
I give her back . . .
Will your clumsy ricks and clay
Break her silk and pearl and ivory
To trash? . . .
Break her silk and pearl and ivory
To trash? . . .
. . . or shall I see a little creeping flush
of first flowers along that slope
next Spring?
of first flowers along that slope
next Spring?
The North American ReviewHenry Bellamann
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