LIFE
XXX
WE play at paste,
Till qualified for pearl,
Then drop the paste,
And deem ourself a fool.
The shapes, though, were similar.
And our new hands
Learned gem-tactics
Practising sands.
Till qualified for pearl,
Then drop the paste,
And deem ourself a fool.
The shapes, though, were similar.
And our new hands
Learned gem-tactics
Practising sands.
XXXI
I FOUND the phrase to every thought
I ever had, but one;
And that defies me,—as a hand
Did try to chalk the sun
I ever had, but one;
And that defies me,—as a hand
Did try to chalk the sun
To races nurtured in the dark;—
How would your own begin?
Can blaze be done in cochineal,
Or noon in mazarin?
How would your own begin?
Can blaze be done in cochineal,
Or noon in mazarin?
XXXII
HOPE is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
[19]
