Part 2 (1/2)

Brother Tree: Why do you reach and reach?

Do you dream some day to touch the sky?

Brother Stream: Why do you run and run?

Do you dream some day to fill the sea?

Brother Bird: Why do you sing and sing?

Do you dream -- ~Young Man: Why do you talk and talk and talk?~

Blind. [Harry Kemp]

The Spring blew trumpets of color; Her Green sang in my brain -- I heard a blind man groping ”Tap -- tap” with his cane;

I pitied him in his blindness; But can I boast, ”I see”?

Perhaps there walks a spirit Close by, who pities me, --

A spirit who hears me tapping The five-sensed cane of mind Amid such unguessed glories -- That I am worse than blind.

Yellow Warblers. [Katharine Lee Bates]

The first faint dawn was flus.h.i.+ng up the skies When, dreamland still bewildering mine eyes, I looked out to the oak that, winter-long, -- a winter wild with war and woe and wrong -- Beyond my cas.e.m.e.nt had been void of song.

And lo! with golden buds the twigs were set, Live buds that warbled like a rivulet Beneath a veil of willows. Then I knew Those tiny voices, clear as drops of dew, Those flying daffodils that fleck the blue,

Those sparkling visitants from myrtle isles, Wee pilgrims of the sun, that measure miles Innumerable over land and sea With wings of s.h.i.+ning inches. Flakes of glee, They filled that dark old oak with jubilee,

Foretelling in delicious roundelays Their dainty courts.h.i.+ps on the dipping sprays, How they should fas.h.i.+on nests, mate helping mate, Of milkweed flax and fern-down delicate To keep sky-tinted eggs inviolate.

Listening to those blithe notes, I slipped once more From lyric dawn through dreamland's open door, And there was G.o.d, Eternal Life that sings, Eternal joy, brooding all mortal things, A nest of stars, beneath untroubled wings.

April -- North Carolina. [Harriet Monroe]

Would you not be in Tryon Now that the spring is here, When mocking-birds are praising The fresh, the blossomy year?

Look -- on the leafy carpet Woven of winter's browns Iris and pink azaleas Flutter their gaudy gowns.

The dogwood spreads white meshes -- So white and light and high -- To catch the drifting sunlight Out of the cobalt sky.

The pointed beech and maple, The pines, dark-tufted, tall, Pattern with many colors The mountain's purple wall.

Hark -- what a rus.h.i.+ng torrent Of crystal song falls sheer!