Madison Julius Cawein Poems

Between the death of day and birth of night,
By War's red light,
I met with one in trailing sorrows clad,
Whose features had
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I

Above lone woodland ways that led
To dells the stealthy twilights tread
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The Winter Wind, the wind of death,
Who knocked upon my door,
Now through the keyhole entereth,
Invisible and hoar:
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The moth and beetle wing about
The garden ways of other days;
Above the hills, a fiery shout
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The clouds that tower in storm, that beat
Arterial thunder in their veins;
The wildflowers lifting, shyly sweet,
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BLACK clouds hung low and heavy,
Above the sunset glare;
And in the garden dimly
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I had not found the road too short,
As once I had in days of youth,
In that old forest of long ruth,
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I

The tufted gold of the sassafras,
And the gold of the spicewood-bush,
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THE sunset was a sleepy gold,
And stars were in the skies
When down a weedy lane he strolled
In vague and thoughtless wise.
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I

He makes a roadway of the crumbling fence,
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