Poems
Duggan, Eileen & O'Donnell, Charles L. & Dwyer, Mary H. & Thayer, Mary Dixon & Sullivan, A. M. & Jennings, Leslie Nelson
663 POEMS The Daffodil Speaks Old Atlas had no greater task than I Who lift the sleeping earth upon my back; I sip a potent liquor from the sky When Taurus bellows on the zodiac. When winter...
...You soon will touch the skies...
...Charles L. O'Donnell...
...But rains of May, and scented breath of June Are never mine: I come to conquer snow, To wrestle winds, and change their bitter tune, To waken spring, and with the winter go...
...Will he eat with us again...
...Eileen Duggan...
...are dead . . . Mary Dixon Thayer...
...Your most graceless guest am I Thinking how his throat is dry...
...A. M. Sullivan...
...Serenities of sky are come again...
...Leslie Nelson- Jennings...
...There is a Sun beyond our sun which rays Warmth upon this indomitable germ That pulses life in many secret ways, And wears an armor to outwit the worm...
...When winter flees I cannot be denied, I crack his shield of silver with my brawn And raise the yellow standard of my pride To taunt the frost that lingers to the dawn...
...The Name We make that lovely sighing sound, A thing too far away, A word and not the little name His mother used to say...
...God, forgive ingratitude...
...II Low in the tangled forest of the sky The branching clouds an ancient doom prepare, And soon, like Absolom, the sun will die, Hung by his golden hair...
...Fragrance not wholly yielded to that hour When the heart bursts impassioned into flower...
...I am the warrior of spring...
...Monica at Communion Once again I come alone, Touch Your hand with hands of stone, Bitterly sit down to Bread, Knowing he is never fed...
...Or in a dust of silver drops, When eaves are crying eyes, "Jesus, the rain has made you grow...
...Flesh will be born with some inherent seed Of hope or certitude that stirs and swells, Finding a rootage equal to the need In soil where no disintegration dwells...
...For sweeter is the perfume of A rose that never dies Than all the roses blooming on The way to Paradise...
...My duty Demands that I shall furl the white and black On winter's staff...
...Heard you no instant rumor of the spring Along dark labyrinths of the mind where men Slay monsters...
...My bugle summons beauty And all the rainbow from her bivouac...
...Mary H. Dwybjl...
...Why do we never see her stand Against the wicket gate, A dim blue patience in the dusk— "Jesus, come home...
...Go, and seek this lovely thing...
...Primavera Easter Song Though flowers strew the little path Through time, O God, to Thee, I shall not pause to gather them But pass, and let them be...
...Wine, archangels may not taste I consume with barbarous haste...
...And if but stones and briars fill The path my feet must tread I shall not weep for roses that So soon are dead...
...Tell Your angels I am rude, Mannerless, because of pain...
...Marginals Veronica, the twilight, comes apace To meet her lord, the sun, who goes to die: Behold, the wounded splendor of his face Staining her veil of sky...
...It's late...
Vol. 5 • April 1927 • No. 24
