Moly: A Book of Poems (Classic Reprint) - Hardcover

Inhaltsangabe

Excerpt from Moly: A Book of Poems

Thou hast a blessing that is all thy own. Thou dost preserve from danger and from sin No Circe-charm from unclean thoughts have grown Where thy faint essence finds an entrance in. Dull, homely flower that blooms in fancied ground Unseen the fingers are that break thy stem, Yet virtue in thy wholesome draught is found, And they that sip - no snares are spread for them.

I, too, have gathered moly where it grows Some in dense forest, some in shady glen, Some in the sun, with heart's-ease and with rose, Some in the fields, self-sown amid the grain.

And some, where frightened thought vibrates tow ard God, My reverent hand has gathered over graves, Where the close seam knits ruptured sod to sod, And all the churchyard rolls in verdant waves.

My bunch of moly, plucked in after time A hand that loves thee lays thee on the leaf. And binds thy modest fragrance into rhyme That thou mayst live thy life, however brief. If some tired hand should hold thee for a space, Or, hung above thee, some sad eye grow bright, Yield up all that thou hast of humble grace, Nor mourn that after day there must be night.

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