John Bannister Tabb Poems

What fruit of all thy blossom shed
Remaineth unto me?
'A dream, whereon thy Fancy fed,
Shall spin anon her golden thread,
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I came, O DEATH, to conquer thee,
And overcome the Grave;
But thou wast tenderer to me
Than those I sought to save.
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Says the Shadow to the Sun,
'When the victory is done
All the world that thou hast won
Will be mine!'
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Contrasts are striking, Teddy knows;
And so, for a variety,
The Black man to the White House goes,
Rough-riding o'er society.
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The Star that watched you in your sleep
Has just put out his light.
'Good-day, to you on earth,' he said,
'Is here in heaven Good-night.
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'Tis Nothingness that sunders me,
O God, from thine Eternity,
Wherein, a being yet to be,
I dwelt forever one with Thee,
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Butterfly, Butterfly, sipping the sand,
Have you forgotten the flowers of the land?
Or are you so sated with honey and dew
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Ours is the echoed cry
Of helpless Innocents about to die.
Remembering them
In Ramah, for the Lamb of Bethlehem
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It was a very little Boy
That on the river side
Stood calling, 'Ferryman, ahoy!
Come, take me o'er the tide!'
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A whole-tail dog, and a half-tail dog,
And a dog without a tail,
Went all three out on an autumn day
To follow a red-fox trail.
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