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etals, meagre flower, thin, sparse of leaf. more precious than a wet rose, single on a stem-- you are caught in the drift. Stunted, with small leaf, you are flung on the sands, you are lifted in the crisp sand that drives in the wind. Can the spice-rose drip such acrid fragrance hardened in a leaf? OREAD Whirl up, sea-- Whirl your pointed pines, Splash your great pines On our rocks, Hurl your green over us, Cover us with your pools of fir. ORION DEAD [_Artemis speaks_] The cornel-trees uplift from the furrows, the roots at their bases strike lower through the barley-sprays. So arise and face me. I am poisoned with the rage of song. _I once pierced the flesh of the wild-deer, now am I afraid to touch the blue and the gold-veined hyacinths?_ _I will tear the full flowers and the little heads of the grape-hyacinths. I will strip the life from the bulb until the ivory layers lie like narcissus petals on the black earth._ _Arise, lest I bend an ash-tree into a taut bow, and slay--and tear all the roots from the earth._ The cornel-wood blazes and strikes through the barley-sprays, but I have lost heart for this. I break a staff. I break the tough branch. I know no light in the woods. I have lost pace with the winds. JOHN GOULD FLETCHER JOHN GOULD FLETCHER THE BLUE SYMPHONY I The darkness rolls upward. The thick darkness carries with it Rain and a ravel of cloud. The sun comes forth upon earth. Palely the dawn Leaves me facing timidly Old gardens sunken: And in the gardens is water. Sombre wreck--autumnal leaves; Shadowy roofs In the blue mist, And a willow-branch that is broken. O old pagodas of my soul, how you glittered across green trees! Blue and cool: Blue, tremulously, Blow faint puffs of smoke Across sombre pools. The damp green smell of rotted wood; And a heron that cries from out the water. II Through the upland meadows I go alone. For I dreamed of someone last night Who is waiting for me. Flower and blossom, tell me do you know of her? Have the rocks hidden her voice? They are very blue and still. Long
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