Anna Hempstead Branch
Biography of Anna Hempstead Branch
Born at Hempstead House, New London, Conn. Graduated from Smith College in 1897 and from the American Academy of Dramatic Art, in New York City, in 1900. While at college she began writing poetry and the year after her graduation won the first prize offered by the `Century Magazine' for a poem written by a college graduate. This poem, "The Road 'Twixt Heaven and Hell", was printed in the `Century Magazine' for December, 1898, and was followed soon after by the publication of Miss Branch's first volume, "The Heart of the Road", 1901. She has since published two volumes, "The Shoes That Danced", 1902, and "Rose of the Wind", 1910, both marked by imagination and beauty of a high order.
Anna Hempstead Branch Poems
To A New York Shop-Girl Dressed For Sund...
To-day I saw the shop-girl go Down gay Broadway to meet her beau. Conspicuous, splendid, conscious, sweet,
Grieve Not, Ladies
Oh, grieve not, Ladies, if at night Ye wake to feel your beauty going. It was a web of frail delight, Inconstant as an April snowing.
The Warrior Maid
They bade me to my spinning Because I was a maid, But down into the battle I marshalled unafraid.
Songs For My Mother
I. Her Hands My mother's hands are cool and fair, They can do anything.
PART I ONE time, in Shinar, when the setting sun, With all his thousand javelins, drove the day
The Monk In The Kitchen
I Order is a lovely thing; On disarray it lays its wing,
Connecticut Road Song
In the wide and rocky pasture where the cedar trees are gray, The briar rose was growing with the blueberry and bay.
But when Endymion, wandering alone, With youth and love of loveliness forlorn, Being greatly sorrowful with beauty, came
To An Enemy
I I saw thee once. I shall know thee ever. Beyond the frantic mesh
While Loveliness Goes By
Sometimes when all the world seems grey and dun And nothing beautiful, a voice will cry, 'Look out, look out! Angels are drawing nigh!'
The Wedding Feast
PART I Oh who art thou—thou fearful guest— Too burning bright, too strangely fair?
So I May Feel The Hands Of God
How swiftly, once, on silvery feet I saw thee bound beneath the sun! Oh, savage innocence! The fleet, The wild, the sweet, the glistening one!
Dominus Vineae; Spiritus Agricola
Once more among our archangelic hills The streets of this old, grave, and gracious town Throb with renewing vigor as when Spring
But now the Dream has come again, the world is as of old. Once more I feel about my breast the heartening splendors fold. Now I am back in that good place from which my footsteps came, And I am hushed of any grief and have laid by my shame.
Grieve Not, Ladies
Oh, grieve not, Ladies, if at night
Ye wake to feel your beauty going.
It was a web of frail delight,
Inconstant as an April snowing.
In other eyes, in other lands,
In deep fair pools, new beauty lingers,
But like spent water in your hands
It runs from your reluctant fingers.