POETRY: A Magazine of Verse
SONGS FOR A VIOLIN
I
Blown gold was the hair of the child
In the wind and the sun by the sea;
And the sea was silver and jade,
And pearl where the breakers played—
Like children strange and wild
In a pagan ecstasy.
And the child cried out to his mother,
"Oh, let me play in the sea!"
But I heard the voice of the mother
Weary with waiting long:
"Hush, my child, come near to me—
The sea is cruel and strong!"
II
I groped through blooms in the dark
And a fragrance stirred to me,
And I knew that I touched a rose,
Although I could not see.
So, for your soul I would grope
In the dark, if you were dead.
As I knew the rose I would know
Your soul and be comforted.
[68]
