Part 4 (2/2)

The snow in the streets is black, Profaned with the city's sin; I know of a star-lit track Where G.o.d's hand has been.

Have I finished with snow and sun, With the wind on the open plain, That I starve in the barren town-- Is my life in vain?

III

_False_

The black sky stretches to the pallid sea, As a false love and a dismantled heart.

Empty of faith and eager to depart.

He takes her yet once more, submissively, Against his lips, then, laughing, drifts away Swiftly within the dawning of the day.

Blindly she tosses up her foam-white hands, Crying for mercy, and the wind--her hair-- Lashes the wide-sailed s.h.i.+ps and leaves them bare.

Blindly she hurls her rage against the sands.

There, in the cold sky where her love had lain Scornful, aloof, the sun reviews her pain.

IV

_A Song of the Oregon Trail_

How long the trail! How far the goal!

Last year the moons might come and go Like dancing shadows on the snow.

My heart was light, my heart was strong; I cared not though the way be long; But now--the end is you--my soul!--

I fear the dark, I fear the dread White frost that hovers round my heart, The cold, high sun, and, wide apart, The frozen, pitiless stars above.

So far, so far from my true love, And, oh! I fear, I fear the dead!

I fear their fingers, grasping and pale.

I did not fear the dead last year-- But now, the kisses of my dear!

The breast of her, so kind and warm, Ah, heart! I must not come to harm-- How far the goal! How long the trail!

V

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