Sonnets
Litsey, Sarah & Parr, Ruth & Fuller, Ethel Romig & Hicky, Daniel Whitehead & Moore, Merrill & Hartsock, Ernest
August 7, 1929 THE COMMONWEAL 361 SONNETS Drought Broken ouryley The clock that has stopped begins to tick again And out of an empty sky falls eager rain That has long been given...
...Let the slim hands be folded tenderly, But discipline your brush to eyes steel-cold...
...Blue shadows tangled at our feet...
...August 7, 1929 THE COMMONWEAL 361 SONNETS Drought Broken ouryley The clock that has stopped begins to tick again And out of an empty sky falls eager rain That has long been given up for lost by the men Who stand, eyes dry with light, lips parched with pain, Watching it fall...
...like a toad It thumped against the branches and its wing Was fettered with the nightfall...
...The branching veins in this cold mantel stone Throbbed with strange ichor, and this writhing chair Stretched aching arms as though it could not bear Its emptiness...
...A sparrow Was blinded by the darkness...
...and you, oh, you alone Amid this quickening, this flux and sweep Of monstrous energy, lay marble-still...
...Here has the builder taken domicile, Joining the meek, the merry and the mad Who hold with wren and willow on the hill Allegiance to what little life they had...
...Or untried wings the glory-sense of flight...
...Paint them with all their greed of trivial pelf...
...MERRILL MOORE...
...Then rather suddenly The interrupted weeks begin to pass Again as they always have, as suddenly As a woman commences to cry, and while the sky Starts raining spattering drops upon the grass The afternoon is broken silently By intermittent showers into several parts Any one of which, applied to broken hearts, So Merlin claims, will make them heal together And knit back whole, perfect, light as a feather...
...ETHEL ROMIC, FULLER...
...The moon came up...
...nalysis If you would paint me true, study my eyes...
...Can petals guess the fervidness of sun...
...Or standing--much too small to reach the stral~Poised slimly to the undulating sway...
...It quivered at our feet again, afraid...
...q fuiem for an Architect Here is he laid who once knew lust and laughter, Here is the gentle, here the glad, the brave...
...DANIEL WHITEHEAD HICKY...
...Its small eyes Could single out no path for journeying...
...e onnet for a Young Girl I see her on the street car every day With flower hands clasped lightly in her lap...
...SARAH LITSEY...
...As shadows grope, we picked our quiet way Darker than death is dark, with nothing said...
...Or that at length even elf-fragile bones Will lie untroubled by a weight of stones...
...The carven wood pulsed with a vigorous stream...
...Or a girl know her loveliness is one With moon-moths drifting down the path of night...
...Not the long, heavy lid, the curving lash, But what is there behind a frail disguise, The deeper sight, the inward-speaking flash...
...Only the mind's scrutiny may discern This ingrained, eager, jealous love of living, This hateful longing which will always burn With the false flame of taking without giving...
...The night came swift upon us, like an arrow The bow of darkness pointed to the road...
...q42atch In shadows fostered by the candles' gleam, These things inanimate surged warm with life, Until the room was filled with noiseless strife...
...Now in the secret wisdom of the shroud Does he behold the star-etched map of sky And wonder how, before he came to die, He thought it was the blue-print of his house ERNEST HARTSOCK...
...the words we sought to say Were lost in so much silver, and the flight Of one lone sparrow winging through the night...
...Loop the hair deftly, touch its lights with gold...
...The world shall know me as I know myself...
...A delicately powder-pollened fay With frail wings, unsuspected, bound beneath The casings of her frock's brown silken sheath, As rose leaves fettered by a backward May...
...RUTH PARR...
...Here in a wooden house whose briefest rafter Bears but a rose to crown its architrave...
...He, who with Babels conquered peak and cloud, Inhabits now the home of mole and mouse...
...No orphan star came wandering down the skies...
...Draw, if you will, the mouth set slenderly...
...Nor could I cheat my tortured eyes to see You stir one instant from unbreathing sleep, Nor with the utmost effort of my will Deny your pact with immobility...
Vol. 10 • August 1929 • No. 14
