Genevieve Taggard Poems

Put her away some place between two hills,
Away from the sea and the sun.
She has so much to think of–must she run
...

Noiselessly the planets will blow by,
Like smoke, like breath, like driven snow;
Frost-bitten suns on on, on on will blow;
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You are no more, but sunken in a sea
Sheer into dream, ten thousand leagues, you fell;
And now you lie green-golden, while a bell
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Up that thin river, going over sand–
Down that deep river, purple to the sun;
My fingers fire; cool your quiet hand,
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If you will poise your forefoot in my pool,
I will not loose a ripple, Beautiful.
Crackle the fern-stems, arch aloft and stare,
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Fearful of beauty, I always went
Timidly indifferent:

Dainty, hesitant, taking in
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The stone falls, the bird flies, the arrow goes home,
But we have no motion, we scatter like foam.
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Swing, swing, and swoon,
Morning, evening, noon,
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How tender-mad the little meadows lie!
The wobbling lambs are tasting milky weeds,
The tipsy trees
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All essences of sweetness from the white
Warm day go up in vapor, when the dark
Comes down. Ascends the tune of meadow-lark,
...