Part 21 (1/2)

Said the third in plaid, Each word being weighed:

”And trotting does In the park, in the lane, And just outside The shuttered pane, Have also been heard - Quick feet as light As the feet of a sprite - And the wise mind knows What things may betide When such has occurred.”

Cried the black-c.r.a.ped fourth, Cold faced as the north:

”O, though giving such Some head-room, I smile At your falterings When noting those things Round your domicile!

For what, what can touch One whom, riven of all That makes life gay, No hints can appal Of more takings away!”

PATHS OF FORMER TIME

No; no; It must not be so: They are the ways we do not go.

Still chew The kine, and moo In the meadows we used to wander through;

Still purl The rivulets and curl Towards the weirs with a musical swirl;

Haymakers As in former years Rake rolls into heaps that the pitchfork rears;

Wheels crack On the turfy track The waggon pursues with its toppling pack.

”Why then shun - Since summer's not done - All this because of the lack of one?”

Had you been Sharer of that scene You would not ask while it bites in keen

Why it is so We can no more go By the summer paths we used to know!

1913.

THE CLOCK OF THE YEARS

”A spirit pa.s.sed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up.”

And the Spirit said, ”I can make the clock of the years go backward, But am loth to stop it where you will.”

And I cried, ”Agreed To that. Proceed: It's better than dead!”

He answered, ”Peace”; And called her up--as last before me; Then younger, younger she freshed, to the year I first had known Her woman-grown, And I cried, ”Cease! -

”Thus far is good - It is enough--let her stay thus always!”

But alas for me. He shook his head: No stop was there; And she waned child-fair, And to babyhood.