What wouldst thou be? A cloud upon the air
Of summer skies afloat in sunlit charm,
And drinking azure bliss, all free from care,
And nestling near the sun's breast rich and warm?
What wouldst thou be? A comet, trailing eyes
Of thousand terrors through the throbbing night,
And filling earth with fear and vague surprise
To gaze upon thy bright, liquescent light?
What wouldst thou be? A sullen, stalwart cliff
Immovable upon a grassy plain,
Kissed by no clouds, and cold, and stark, and stiff,
Unmelted by the gentle tears of rain?
I ask nor to be gay, nor great nor strong—
Make me a thought incarnate in some song.
May 24, 1912. |
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