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THE CRYSTAL GAZER

The Crystal Gazer

I shall gather myself into myself again, I shall take my scattered selves and make them one, Fusing them into a polished crystal ball Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.

I shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent, Watching the future come and the present go, And the little shifting pictures of people rushing In restless self-importance to and fro.

The Solitary

My heart has grown rich with the passing of years, I have less need now than when I was young To share myself with every comer Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.

It is one to me that they come or go If I have myself and the drive of my will, And strength to climb on a summer night And watch the stars swarm over the hill.

Let them think I love them more than I do, Let them think I care, though I go alone; If it lifts their pride, what is it to me Who am self-complete as a flower or a stone.

Day’s Ending

(Tucson)

Aloof as aged kings, Wearing like them the purple, The mountains ring the mesa Crowned with a dusky light; Many a time I watched That coming-on of darkness Till stars burned through the heavens Intolerably bright.

It was not long I lived there But I became a woman Under those vehement stars. For it was there I heard For the first time my spirit Forging an iron rule for me, As though with slow cold hammers Beating out word by word:

“Only yourself can heal you, Only yourself can lead you, The road is heavy going And ends where no man knows; Take love when love is given, But never think to find it A sure escape from sorrow Or a complete repose.”

A Reply

Four people knew the very me, Four is enough, so let it be; For the rest I make no chart, There are no highroads to my heart; The gates are locked, they will not stir For any ardent traveller. I have not been misunderstood, And on the whole, I think life good-- So waste no sympathy on me Or any well-meant gallantry; I have enough to do to muse On memories I would not lose.

Leisure

If I should make no poems any more There would be rest at least, so let it be; Time to read books in other tongues and listen To the long mellow thunder of the sea.

The year will turn for me, I shall delight in All animals, and some of my own kind, Sharing with no one but myself the frosty And half ironic musings of my mind.

“I Shall Live to be Old”

I shall live to be old, who feared I should die young, I shall live to be old, I shall cling to life as the leaves to the creaking oak In the rustle of falling snow and the cold.

The other trees let loose their leaves on the air In their russet and red, I have lived long enough to wonder which is the best, And to envy sometimes the way of the early dead.

Wisdom

It was a night of early spring, The winter-sleep was scarcely broken; Around us shadows and the wind Listened for what was never spoken.

Though half a score of years are gone, Spring comes as sharply now as then-- But if we had it all to do It would be done the same again.

It was a spring that never came, But we have lived enough to know What we have never had, remains; It is the things we have that go.

The Old Enemy

Rebellion against death, the old rebellion Is over; I have nothing left to fight; Battles have always had their meed of music But peace is quiet as a windless night.

Therefore I make no songs--I have grown certain Save when he comes too late, death is a friend, A shepherd leading home his flock serenely Under the planet at the evening’s end.