Chapter I: Front Matter

WILLOW POLLEN

WILLOW POLLEN

BY

JEANNETTE MARKS

BOSTON

THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY
1921

_Copyright, 1921, by_
THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY

The Four Seas Press
Boston, Mass., U. S. A.

TO

THE MEMORY OF
MY MOTHER

JEANNETTE HOLMES COLWELL MARKS

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Many of these poems were first published in _Ainslee’s_, _Bellman_, _Century_, _Churchman_, _Contemporary Verse_, _Everybody’s_, _Freeman_, _Forum_, _Holland’s Magazine_, _McClure’s_, _Metropolitan_, _Nation_, _New Republic_, _North American Review_, _Outlook_, _Poetry_ (Chicago), _Poetry Journal_, _The Bookman_, _Smart Set_ and other magazines.

Fleur de Lys
September 27, 1920.

CONTENTS

Page

PROEM 11

WILLOW POLLEN 13

YOU 14

CROSS ROADS 15

CALENDAR 16

WILD GRAPE VINE 19

TO SOME FLOWERS 21

STARS 22

GREEN GOLDEN DOOR 23

BREAD 24

OBSCURITY 26

BROWN MOTHER 30

SEA GULLS 32

DRAGON 33

THE WANDERER 34

BLIND SLEEP 35

THE BOWL 36

WHITE HAIR 39

CLEAR POOLS 40

THESE TWO 41

THE RAILROAD STATION 43

BUBBLES 44

PEDDLED JOY 45

WORK 46

SOMEWHERE TONIGHT 47

YOUR SUNLIT WAY 48

STRANGE FACES 49

EVERYWHERE 50

CLOUD 51

BUCENTAUR 52

MOTH 53

GRAY WATERS 54

JOURNEY’S END 55

WHITE PATHS 56

EBONY 57

TO SOME PHILADELPHIA SPARROWS 58

ORIOLE’S NEST 59

LITTLE MISS HILLY 60

ROSE TOADA 61

THATCH 62

SUN PATH 63

RAVELLO 64

CHESTER-ON-THE DEE 65

THE RIVER SEIONT 66

GOLD AND IVORY 67

STEPS 68

BESIDE THE WAY 69

WAIT AWHILE 70

INDIAN SUMMER 71

A THOUSAND YEARS 72

THE BROKEN DOOR 73

ONLY YOUR NAME 74

REPETENDS 75

TOO LATE 76

THE TIDE 77

DUST AND DREAMS 78

THE NEST 79

LOST LOVE 80

“WHEN SPRING” 81

TWO CANDLES 82

ROSY MILLER 84

HIS NAME 85

MIST 86

LAST DAWN 87

EVEN AS HERE 88

AGAIN? 90

WILLOW POLLEN

PROEM

_Beautiful she was to look upon_
_And beautiful to know,_
_And all who knew her loved her._
_There was none to whom she was not tender,_
_Compassionate in her word or her silence;_
_There was none of whom she did not think well._

_In a quiet room, my head upon her breast,_
_Often have I heard her heart beat,_
_Often have I listened to the voice of her heart,_
_And its speech was the speech of many sorrows._
_But of her own sorrows she spoke not;_
_She spoke only of the grief that came to her for healing;_
_And her speech was silence,_
_Murmur of wind,_
_Mute spaces of sky,--_
_These were her caresses and her healing,_
_And with silence and wind and sky she is now one,--_
_Not separate._

_She is gone._
_Remember her if you will!_
_For me she is still everywhere_
_And never to be forgotten!_
_Out of the dawn_
_The fringed lashes of blue gentians widen to her eyes;_
_Through the hot day_
_The shadow of her presence revolves upon me_
_As the cool finger on the sun dial;_
_In the afternoon_
_Shaken light burns in the memory of her hair;_
_And at evening_
_All my thoughts go fluttering, gray-winged, after her,_
_Till she gathers them in to the nest of her silence_
_And I am come back to my Mother_
_And to sleep._

WILLOW POLLEN

_Fleur de Lys on Lake Champlain, June 3, 1920_

The rain upon my roof is the rain of apple blossoms,
At my feet the water willows stand knee-deep in rushes;
A swaying mirror for the sun the lake swings and tips,
Spilling broken drowsy shadows and silver leaves.
In the willow pollen the bees hum;
In the apple bloom the bees hum;
Fluttering up like a begging hand
The ash tree twirls its mystic seven-fold leaf,
The thrush its song.

O beautiful world, what are you?
And who made you?
Are you no more than a fragrant dream,
A jewelled crust of loam for sun to shine upon,
A swaying mirror,
Willow pollen,
A twirling song,
A crumbling leaf?

YOU

I

You are the sunshine,
I am the sod:
Flame to my leaf-mould,
And goldenrod.

II

You are the shadow,
I am the rock:
Coolness of sheep bells,
Stilling the flock.