W. J. Turner was born in 1889 and, although little known until his appearance in Georgian Poetry 1916-17, has written no few delicate and fanciful poems. The Hunter (1916) and The Dark Wind (1918) both contain many verses as moving and musical as his splendid lines on "Death," a poem which is unfortunately too long to quote.
When I was but thirteen or so
I went into a golden land,
Chimborazo, Cotopaxi
Took me by the hand.
My father died, my brother too,
They passed like fleeting dreams,
I stood where Popocatapetl
In the sunlight gleams.
I dimly heard the master's voice
And boys far-off at play,—
Chimborazo, Cotopaxi
Had stolen me away.
I walked in a great golden dream
To and fro from school—
Shining Popocatapetl
The dusty streets did rule.
I walked home with a gold dark boy
And never a word I'd say,
Chimborazo, Cotopaxi
Had taken my speech away.
I gazed entranced upon his face
Fairer than any flower—
O shining Popocatapetl
It was thy magic hour:
The houses, people, traffic seemed
Thin fading dreams by day;
Chimborazo, Cotopaxi,
They had stolen my soul away!
