Georgian Poetry 1911-1912 Part 9

Mary:

The winter sun has stored his rays, And pa.s.sed the fire to him.

Look Eastward, look! I hear a sound.

O Joseph, what do you see?

Joseph:

The snow lies quiet on the ground And glistens on the tree;

The sky is bright with a star's great light, And clearly I behold Three Kings descending yonder hill, Whose crowns are crowns of gold.

O Mary, what do you hear and see With your brow toward the West?

Mary:

The snow lies glistening on the tree And silent on Earth's breast;

And strong and tall, with lifted eyes Seven shepherds walk this way, And angels breaking from the skies Dance, and sing hymns, and pray.

Joseph:

I wonder much at these bright Kings; The shepherds I despise.

Mary:

You know not what a shepherd sings, Nor see his s.h.i.+ning eyes.

THE QUEEN'S SONG

Had I the power To Midas given of old To touch a flower And leave the petals gold, I then might touch thy face, Delightful boy, And leave a metal grace, A graven joy.

Thus would I slay-- Ah, desperate device!

The vital day That trembles in thine eyes, And let the red lips close Which sang so well, And drive away the rose To leave a sh.e.l.l.

Then I myself, Rising austere and dumb, On the high shelf Of my half-lighted room, Would place the s.h.i.+ning bust And wait alone, Until I was but dust, Buried unknown.

Thus in my love For nations yet unborn, I would remove From our two lives the morn, And muse on loveliness In mine armchair, Content should Time confess How sweet you were.

WILFRID WILSON GIBSON

THE HARE

My hands were hot upon a hare, Half-strangled, struggling in a snare--- My knuckles at her warm wind-pipe-- When suddenly, her eyes shot back, Big, fearful, staggering and black; And ere I knew, my grip was slack; And I was clutching empty air, Half-mad, half-glad at my lost luck ...

When I awoke beside the stack.

'Twas just the minute when the snipe As though clock-wakened, every jack, An hour ere dawn, dart in and out The mist-wreaths filling syke and slack, And flutter wheeling round about, And drumming out the Summer night.

I lay star-gazing yet a bit; Then, chilly-skinned, I sat upright, To shrug the s.h.i.+vers from my back; And, drawing out a straw to suck, My teeth nipped through it at a bite ...

The liveliest lad is out of pluck An hour ere dawn--a tame c.o.c.k-sparrow-- When cold stars s.h.i.+ver through his marrow, And wet mist soaks his mother-wit.

But, as the snipe dropped, one by one; And one by one the stars blinked out; I knew 'twould only need the sun To send the shudders right about: And as the clear East faded white, I watched and wearied for the sun-- The jolly, welcome, friendly sun-- The sleepy sluggard of a sun That still kept snoozing out of sight, Though well he knew the night was done ...

And after all, he caught me dozing, And leapt up, laughing, in the sky Just as my lazy eyes were closing: And it was good as gold to lie Full-length among the straw, and feel The day wax warmer every minute, As, glowing glad, from head to heel.

I soaked, and rolled rejoicing in it ...

When from, the corner of my eye, Upon a heathery knowe hard-by, With long lugs c.o.c.ked, and eyes astare, Yet all serene, I saw a hare.

Upon my belly in the straw, I lay, and watched her sleek her fur, As, daintily, with well-licked paw, She washed her face and neck and ears: Then, clean and comely in the sun, She kicked her heels up, full of fun, As if she did not care a pin Though she should jump out of her skin, And leapt and lolloped, free of fears, Until my heart frisked round with her.

'And yet, if I but lift my head, You'll scamper off, young Puss,' I said.

'Still, I can't lie, and watch you play, Upon my belly half the day.

The Lord alone knows where I'm going: But, I had best be getting there.

Last night I loosed you from the snare-- Asleep, or waking, who's for knowing!-- So, I shall thank you now for showing Which art to take to bring me where My luck awaits me. When you're ready To start, I'll follow on your track.

Though slow of foot, I'm sure and steady ...'

She p.r.i.c.ked her ears, then set them back; And like a shot was out of sight: And, with a happy heart and light, As quickly I was on my feet; And following the way she went, Keen as a lurcher on the scent, Across the heather and the bent, Across the quaking moss and peat.

Of course, I lost her soon enough, For moorland tracks are steep and rough; And hares are made of nimbler stuff Than any lad of seventeen, However lanky-legged and tough, However kestrel-eyed and keen: And I'd at last to stop and eat The little bit of bread and meat Left in my pocket overnight.

So, in a hollow, snug and green, I sat beside a burn, and dipped The dry bread in an icy pool; And munched a breakfast fresh and cool ...

And then sat gaping like a fool ...

For, right before my very eyes, With lugs ac.o.c.k and eyes astare, I saw again the selfsame hare.

So, up I jumped, and off she slipped; And I kept sight of her until I stumbled in a hole, and tripped, And came a heavy, headlong spill; And she, ere I'd the wit to rise, Was o'er the hill, and out of sight: And, sore and shaken with the tumbling, And sicker at my foot for stumbling, I cursed my luck, and went on, grumbling, The way her flying heels had fled.

The sky was cloudless overhead, And just alive with larks asinging; And in a twinkling I was swinging Across the windy hills, lighthearted.

A kestrel at my footstep started, Just pouncing on a frightened mouse, And hung o'er head with wings a-hover; Through rustling heath an adder darted: A hundred rabbits bobbed to cover: A weasel, sleek and rusty-red, Popped out of sight as quick as winking: I saw a grizzled vixen slinking Behind a clucking brood of grouse That rose and cackled at my coming: And all about my way were flying The peewit, with their slow wings creaking; And little jack-snipe darted, drumming: And now and then a golden plover Or redshank piped with reedy whistle.

But never shaken bent or thistle Betrayed the quarry I was seeking; And not an instant, anywhere Did I clap eyes upon a hare.

So, travelling still, the twilight caught me; And as I stumbled on, I muttered: 'A deal of luck the hare has brought me!

The wind and I must spend together A hungry night among the heather.

If I'd her here ...' And as I uttered, I tripped, and heard a frightened squeal; And dropped my hands in time to feel The hare just bolting 'twixt my feet.