110
POEMS.
Be glad, so long as his black sackcloth, late
And early, thwarts thy sun; for if in hate
Thou plottest for his blood, thy own death-cry,
Not his, comes from the gallows, cubits high.
And early, thwarts thy sun; for if in hate
Thou plottest for his blood, thy own death-cry,
Not his, comes from the gallows, cubits high.
LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY.
Such messengers to show me where
Is water for my feet;
Such perfume poured upon my hair,
Costly and sweet.
Is water for my feet;
Such perfume poured upon my hair,
Costly and sweet.
Such couch, such canopy, such floor,
Such royal banquet spread;
Such music through the open door,
So little said.
Such royal banquet spread;
Such music through the open door,
So little said.
So much bestowed and understood,
Such flavored courtesy,
And only kings of unmixed blood
For company.
Such flavored courtesy,
And only kings of unmixed blood
For company.
Such rhythmic tales of ancient lores,
Of sweet and hidden things,
Rehearsed by sacred troubadours
On tireless wings.
Of sweet and hidden things,
Rehearsed by sacred troubadours
On tireless wings.