Poems
Addison, Medora C. & Barrowes-Donald, H. C. & Robinson, Henry Morton & Walsh, Thomas & Case, Elizabeth & Lemont, Jessie
February 9, z9z7 THE COMMONWEAL 383 POEMS Calle de Lamparillas (Havana. Guba) It is a little street, and very humbly It winds through the quarter on the harbor-front; All day...
...The hilt and handguard made a jeweled cross...
...undane Dagger flash will always be Close about the earth and sea...
...Bright the bane of tiger eyes In the width of wide world lies...
...There are deep shadows by noontide At the entrances and windows, Although the wheat and flour warehouses Whiten the road and carts and workmen, So that they seem at some travesty of Pierrot As they labor under their loads...
...arth-Canonized This is high saintliness, I know: To love earth's sacramental snow...
...On either side, the little houses Jostle so close that sunshine Rarely touches more than their eaves...
...February 9, z9z7 THE COMMONWEAL 383 POEMS Calle de Lamparillas (Havana...
...ELIZABFrH CASE...
...e..~ad0~7/a Clasped to your heart He seems secure While sun and moon and stars endureYet in the shadow of your eyes, What apprehended Calvaries...
...JESSIE LEMONT...
...HENRY MORTON ROBINSON...
...There is a burr of Spanish--Asturian And Galician, rather than Castilian-But by night, silence--loneliness-Nothingness--where are the little lamps Of old, and the fair fingers that hung them forth ?-Gone!--Oh, light me your candle, Pierrot, again...
...Then it grows fresh and cool as the memory Of a wise old friend who is dead...
...What though I gave him then my sword to pierce my heart ? What though he struck, and deep it went...
...All day odors of spices and cordage And fruits fragrant and decaying, Cloy its murky atmosphere...
...Ccce Jlncilla Domini Emblem, Mary, of your virginity-A lily from God's Fields in Paradise The Angel offered you on bended knee--You bloomed beneath the message of his eyes...
...All the deep accents of breath, All the fantasies of death, Are initialed underneath Devious surmise...
...There is no bottom in Golgotha's mine...
...Tis I Am Rich What matter if the slow exhaustless stream Of lofty thought and hope And sweet, high-hearted dream, That springs forever from a heaven-watered heart, Squander its bounties on a barren slope, Vanish in scorched sand In a wasted land ? 'Tis I am rich, and bitter poor thou art...
...But at night the harbor winds Rush through it with a rustic That makes my heart stand still...
...Did my blood darken it...
...Chloris on a sagging stair Calls the leopard from his lair...
...To cling all day to wave-wracked hulls Hearing the antiphon of gulls...
...Love knew no lo6s...
...MEDORA C. ADDISON...
...What matter if a false unskilful foe, Worsted in tournament, Split his false blade...
...Earthworm's wriggling dust-bound length Rears to fire-ranged dragon strength...
...Tis I am rich, and bitter poor thou art...
...To float face toward the sky and make Clerestory of a sapphire lake...
...H. C. BAva~owEs-Dorc~mD...
...Earth's saints are those who to the last Cling to beauty's broken mast, Then striking boldly seaward, reach The smooth-stoned slope of heaven's beach...
...Atlantis rises half awash, Stones of empires slide and crash, Where the grey shears meet and slash Obliquely unaware...
...What matter if from out the boundless store Of heaven-minted gold I lavish more and more The Coins of Christ on yon poor miser-heart...
...THOMAS WALSH...
...To tell, amid green rocks and weeds, Decades of periwinkle beads...
...What profit if I should withhold These Coins that bear His Seal and Sign...
...Guba) It is a little street, and very humbly It winds through the quarter on the harbor-front...
...Raising the lily like a sword he stood And drew about your head a golden glow-Your Halo is your Crown O Maidenhood-Your heart a flame beneath a veil of snow...
...Tis I am rich, and bitter poor thou art...
Vol. 5 • February 1927 • No. 14
