Because the road was steep and long
And through a dark and lonely land,
(For Sara Teasdale)
The lonely farm, the crowded street,
The palace and the slum,
When Dawn strides out to wake a dewy farm
Across green fields and yellow hills of hay
The little twittering birds laugh in his way
And poise triumphant on his shining arm.
Why is that wanton gossip Fame
So dumb about this man's affairs?
Why do we titter at his name
Who come to buy his curious wares?
"Dulce et decorum est"
The bugle echoes shrill and sweet,
But not of war it sings to-day.
(For A. K. K.)
What distant mountains thrill and glow
Beneath our Lady Folly's tread?
1 When you had played with life a space
2 And made it drink and lust and sing,
3 You flung it back into God's face
4 And thought you did a noble thing.
From what old ballad, or from what rich frame
Did you descend to glorify the earth?
A few long-hoarded pennies in his hand
Behold him stand;
A kilted Hedonist, perplexed and sad.
The joy that once he had,