Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/43
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So I scatter, so implore
Gods of Crete, summoned before
with slighter craft;
Ah, hear my prayer:
Grant to my soul
the body that it wore,
trained to your thought,
that kept and held your power,
as the petal of black power
the opiate of the flower.
Gods of Crete, summoned before
with slighter craft;
Ah, hear my prayer:
Grant to my soul
the body that it wore,
trained to your thought,
that kept and held your power,
as the petal of black power
the opiate of the flower.
For art undreamt in Crete,
strange art and dire,
in counter-charm prevents my charm,
limits my power:
pine-cones I heap
Grant answer to my prayer.
strange art and dire,
in counter-charm prevents my charm,
limits my power:
pine-cones I heap
Grant answer to my prayer.
No more, my soul—
as the black cup, sullen and dark with fire,
burns still beside it, noon's bright heat
is withered, filled with dust;
and into that noon-heat
grown drab and stale,
is sudden sound of thunder and swift rain,
till the scarlet flower is wrecked
in the slash of the white hail.
as the black cup, sullen and dark with fire,
burns still beside it, noon's bright heat
is withered, filled with dust;
and into that noon-heat
grown drab and stale,
is sudden sound of thunder and swift rain,
till the scarlet flower is wrecked
in the slash of the white hail.
The poppy that my soul was,
formed to bind all mortals,
made to strike and gather hearts
like flame upon an altar,
fades and shrinks, a red leaf—
waste and drift of the cold rain.
formed to bind all mortals,
made to strike and gather hearts
like flame upon an altar,
fades and shrinks, a red leaf—
waste and drift of the cold rain.
The DialH. D.
28