V

MIDSUMMER NIGHTS

Twilight

(Nahant)

There was an evening when the sky was clear, Ineffably translucent in its blue; The tide was falling and the sea withdrew In hushed and happy music from the sheer Shadowy granite of the cliffs; and fear Of what life may be, and what death can do, Fell from us like steel armor, and we knew The wisdom of the Law that holds us here. It was as though we saw the Secret Will, It was as though we floated and were free; In the south-west a planet shone serenely, And the high moon, most reticent and queenly, Seeing the earth had darkened and grown still, Misted with light the meadows of the sea.

Full Moon

(Santa Barbara)

I listened, there was not a sound to hear In the great rain of moonlight pouring down, The eucalyptus trees were carved in silver, And a light mist of silver lulled the town.

I saw far off the grey Pacific bearing A broad white disk of flame, And on the garden-walk a snail beside me Tracing in crystal the slow way he came.

The Fountain

Fountain, fountain, what do you say Singing at night alone? “It is enough to rise and fall Here in my basin of stone.”

But are you content as you seem to be So near the freedom and rush of the sea? “I have listened all night to its laboring sound, It heaves and sags, as the moon runs round; Ocean and fountain, shadow and tree, Nothing escapes, nothing is free.”

Clear Evening

The crescent moon is large enough to linger A little while after the twilight goes, This moist midsummer night the garden perfumes Are earth and apple, dewy pine and rose.

Over my head four new-cut stars are glinting And the inevitable night draws on; I am alone, the old terror takes me, Evenings will come like this when I am gone;

Evenings on evenings, years on years forever-- Be taut, my spirit, close upon and keep The scent, the brooding chill, the gliding fire-fly, A poem learned before I fall asleep.

Not by the Sea

Not by the sea, but somewhere in the hills, Not by the sea, but in the uplands surely There must be rest where a dim pool demurely Watches all night the stern slow-moving skies;

Not by the sea, that never was appeased, Not by the sea, whose immemorial longing Shames the tired earth where even longing dies, Not by the sea that bore Iseult and Helen, But in a dark green hollow of the hills There must be sleep, even for sleepless eyes.

Midsummer Night

Midsummer night without a moon, but the stars In a serene bright multitude were there, Even the shyest ones, even the faint motes shining Low in the north, under the Little Bear.

When I have said, “This tragic farce I play in Has neither dignity, delight nor end,” The holy night draws all its stars around me, I am ashamed, I have betrayed my Friend.