Mad for Poetry

       I     Do you remember once, in Paris of glad faces,     The night we wandered off under the third moon’s rays    And, leaving far behind bright streets…

    The rooks aclamor when one enters here    Startle the empty towers far overhead;    Through gaping walls the summer fields appear,    Green, tan, or, poppy-mingled, tinged with red.    The courts…

   In the glad revels, in the happy fetes,     When cheeks are flushed, and glasses gilt and pearled    With the sweet wine of France that concentrates     The…

Broceliande     By Alan Seeger     Broceliande! in the perilous beauty of silence and menacing shade,    Thou art set on the shores of the sea down the…

       I     Deep in the sloping forest that surrounds    The head of a green valley that I know,    Spread the fair gardens and ancestral grounds    Of Bellinglise, the beautiful…

    I stood beside his sepulchre whose fame,    Hurled over Europe once on bolt and blast,    Now glows far off as storm-clouds overpast    Glow in the sunset flushed with…

    Stretched on a sunny bank he lay at rest,    Ferns at his elbow, lilies round his knees,    With sweet flesh patterned where the cool turf pressed,    Flowerlike crept…

    There is a power whose inspiration fills    Nature’s fair fabric, sun- and star-inwrought,    Like airy dew ere any drop distils,    Like perfume in the laden flower, like aught    Unseen…

    At dusk, when lowlands where dark waters glide    Robe in gray mist, and through the greening hills    The hoot-owl calls his mate, and whippoorwills    Clamor from every copse…