Poems (Tree)/I Know What Happiness Is
I KNOW what happiness is—It is the negation of thought,The shutting offOf all those brooding phantoms that surroundAs dank trees in a forestCutting the daylight into rags,Caging the sunIn rusted prison bars.Happiness loves to lie at a river's edgeAnd make no song,But listen to the water's murmuring wisdom,The kissing touch of leaves wind-bowed together,The feathery swish of cloud wings on a hill;Opening wide the violet-petalled doorsOf every shy and. cloistered sense,That all the scent and music of the worldMay rush into the soul.And happiness expandsThe rainbow arch for a procession of dreams,For moth-like fancies winged with evening,For dove-breasted silences,For shadowy reveriesAnd starry pilgrims. . . .I know what happiness is—It is the giving back to EarthOf all our furtive thefts,The lurid jewels that we stole awayFrom passion, sin and pain,Because they glittered strangely, luring usWith their forbidden beauty.Because our childish fingers curiouslyCrave the pale secrets of the moonAnd grope for dangerous toys.Happiness comes in giving back to EarthThe things we took from her with violent hands,Remembering only That her dust is our garment,Her fruits our endeavour,Her waters our priestess,Her leaves our interpreters to God,Her hills our infinite patience.
1918