Poems
Miller, J. Corson & Keyting, Margaret Lee & Stewart, Irene & Acton, Judith & Mcintosh, Mavis & Scollard, Clinton
78 THE COMMONWEAL November 24, 1926 POEMS Valley of the Vanished Kings All night the thundering of horsemen fills The valley-floor with music. All night long The hemlocks hear the...
...Margaret Lee Keyting...
...All night the valley shivers—stone on stone...
...Lightning runs through the room like a silver mouse With thunder, a furious housewife, pounding after...
...Far off, between blue chains of iron trees, When winds are black as death, and rain-throats roar, Some say a giant rides the valley-floor, Himself and charger gold from head to knees...
...They are abroad tonight, the people of storm, With their wild ways and never so much as "Please" Or a thought of us, all huddled to keep warm, And hoping they'll leave the roof and the apple-trees...
...In a Wood Air that once was breath of Thine, Rain that laved limbs divine, Earth that did Thy body make: Something must of Thee partake...
...All was silent, Even the morn, And all was old, For nothing was born Down on the Island of Thorn...
...All the waves, the murmuring waves of ocean, Seemed in surging harmonies to sing Their praise-song, their song that mounted skyward, Triumphing...
...fugitive I could not hold This burning love Within my heart Before the gaze of men . . . They would not understand Its youth . . . They would scourge its slendemess . . . Bending their knee in mockery Before its faith . . . Crowning the tenderness and the yearning Of its love with deep derision...
...Qosmic Bad Manners High in the rooftree of this ancient house A cruel wind worries a creaking rafter...
...And the land, the tufted dunes about me, Echoed, lifting rhythmic voices far, Raised hosannas, clear wind-borne hosannas, To the star...
...Holding this burning love Within my heart From the hands that crucify...
...And men have said a Face peers down the sky, Bleeding, yet radiant, thorn-crowned on high, Reviewing these stern hosts of steel and bone . . . All night they ride, salute that Face and pass, Leaving at dawn no trace upon the grass...
...J. Corson Miller...
...Clinton Scollard...
...I fly...
...All night long The hemlocks hear the hoof-beats' hammering song Of ancient glory soar above the hills...
...Burned one planet, one irradiant planet, Over me...
...The Strange Island of Thorn Down on the Island of Thorn Nothing ever was born— Down on the Island of Thorn...
...Still waters lay In dark lagoons, And soft white fish Like wilted moons Floated there, But never swam— Never swam...
...Small red fox and springing hare, Birds, and all wild creatures, share Glory that the angels wear...
...And back of him, ten thousand horsemen bold— Their silver swords and corselets gleaming dear— Advance and pass, and thunderously veer In clash of battle-practice as of old...
...Sometimes, on misty nights, a moon of bronze Descends the granite walls to spill dark fire On coats of mail, splashed deep with blood and mire— Troop touching troop, on steaming stallions...
...On the limbs Away from the wind Perched red-eyed birds, And they were blind— They were blind...
...Thanksgiving SongIn the twilight, in the violet-covered twilight, I descended to the autumn sea...
...Years may sunder," chanted they, "may sever, We united and in one accord Cry thanksgiving ever, ever, To the Lord...
...Irene Stewart...
...Judith Acton...
...Mavis McIntosh...
...And oh, that place Was a very strange place . . . All of the trees Wore heavy moss lace, And those trees were dead— Those trees were dead...
Vol. 5 • November 1926 • No. 3
