Richard Le Gallienne Poems

All beauty is but thee in echo-shapes,
No lovely thing but echoes some of thee,
Vainly some touch of thy perfection apes,
...

Tell me, strange heart, so mysteriously beating-
Unto what end?
Body and soul so mysteriously meeting,
Strange friend and friend;
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The loveliest face! I turned to her
Shut in 'mid savage rocks and trees;--
'Twas in the May-time of the year,
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I nothing did all yesterday
But listen to the singing rain
On roof and weeping window-pane,
And, 'whiles I'd watch the flying spray
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Brother that ploughs the furrow I late ploughed,
God give thee grace, and fruitful harvesting,
Tis fair sweet earth, be it under sun or cloud,
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The gods are there, they hide their lordly faces
From you that will not kneel--
Worship, and they reveal,
Call--and 'tis they!
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Yea, let me be 'thy bachelere,'
'Tis sweeter than thy lord;
How should I envy him, my dear,
The lamp upon his board.
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The cowbells wander through the woods,
'Neath arching boughs a stream slips by,
In all the ferny solitude
A chipmunk and a butterfly
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The heart of the rose-how sweet
Its fragrance to drain,
Till the greedy brain
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When leaf and flower are newly made,
And bird and butterfly and bee
Are at their summer posts again;
...