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The Little Book of Modern Verse Part 20

The Little Book of Modern Verse - BestLightNovel.com

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I

Others endure Man's rule: he therefore deems I shall endure it -- I, the unconquered Air!

Imagines this triumphant strength may bear His paltry sway! yea, ignorantly dreams, Because proud Rhea now his va.s.sal seems, And Neptune him obeys in billowy lair, That he a more sublime a.s.sault may dare, Where blown by tempest wild the vulture screams!

Presumptuous, he mounts: I toss his bones Back from the height supernal he has braved: Ay, as his vessel nears my perilous zones, I blow the c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l away like chaff And give him to the Sea he has enslaved.

He founders in its depths; and then I laugh!

II

Impregnable I held myself, secure Against intrusion. Who can measure Man?

How should I guess his mortal will outran Defeat so far that danger could allure For its own sake? -- that he would all endure, All sacrifice, all suffer, rather than Forego the daring dreams Olympian That prophesy to him of victory sure?

Ah, tameless courage! -- dominating power That, all attempting, in a deathless hour Made earth-born t.i.tans G.o.dlike, in revolt! -- Fear is the fire that melts Icarian wings: Who fears nor Fate, nor Time, nor what Time brings, May drive Apollo's steeds, or wield the thunderbolt!

The Happiest Heart. [John Vance Cheney]

Who drives the horses of the sun Shall lord it but a day; Better the lowly deed were done, And kept the humble way.

The rust will find the sword of fame, The dust will hide the crown; Ay, none shall nail so high his name Time will not tear it down.

The happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast That found the common daylight sweet, And left to Heaven the rest.

To a New York Shop-Girl dressed for Sunday. [Anna Hempstead Branch]

To-day I saw the shop-girl go Down gay Broadway to meet her beau.

Conspicuous, splendid, conscious, sweet, She spread abroad and took the street.

And all that niceness would forbid, Superb, she smiled upon and did.

Let other girls, whose happier days Preserve the perfume of their ways,

Go modestly. The pa.s.sing hour Adds splendor to their opening flower.

But from this child too swift a doom Must steal her prettiness and bloom,

Toil and weariness hide the grace That pleads a moment from her face.

So blame her not if for a day She flaunts her glories while she may.

She half perceives, half understands, s.n.a.t.c.hing her gifts with both her hands.

The little strut beneath the skirt That lags neglected in the dirt,

The indolent swagger down the street -- Who can condemn such happy feet!

Innocent! vulgar -- that's the truth!

Yet with the darling wiles of youth!

The bright, self-conscious eyes that stare With such hauteur, beneath such hair!

~Perhaps the men will find me fair!~

Charming and charmed, flippant, arrayed, Fluttered and foolish, proud, displayed, Infinite pathos of parade!

The bangles and the narrowed waist -- The tinsled boa -- forgive the taste!

Oh, the starved nights she gave for that, And bartered bread to buy her hat!

She flows before the reproachful sage And begs her woman's heritage.

Dear child, with the defiant eyes, Insolent with the half surmise We do not quite admire, I know How foresight frowns on this vain show!

And judgment, wearily sad, may see No grace in such frivolity.

Yet which of us was ever bold To wors.h.i.+p Beauty, hungry and cold!

Scorn famine down, proudly expressed Apostle to what things are best.

Let him who starves to buy the food For his soul's comfort find her good,

Nor chide the frills and furbelows That are the prettiest things she knows.

Poet and prophet in G.o.d's eyes Make no more perfect sacrifice.

Who knows before what inner shrine She eats with them the bread and wine?

Poor waif! One of the sacred few That madly sought the best they knew!

Dear -- let me lean my cheek to-night Close, close to yours. Ah, that is right.

How warm and near! At last I see One beauty s.h.i.+nes for thee and me.

So let us love and understand -- Whose hearts are hidden in G.o.d's hand.

And we will cherish your brief Spring And all its fragile flowering.

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The Little Book of Modern Verse Part 20 summary

You're reading The Little Book of Modern Verse. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Jessie B. Rittenhouse. Already has 748 views.

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