O then, be careful, or with sudden clutch
You'll hurt the delicate thing you prize so much.

Dreams are like a bird that mocks,
Flirting the feathers of his tail.
When you seize at the salt-box,
Over the hedge you'll see him sail.
Old birds are neither caught with salt nor chaff:
They watch you from the apple bough and laugh.

Poet, never chase the dream.
Laugh yourself, and turn away.
Mask your hunger; let it seem
Small matter if he come or stay;
But when he nestles in your hand at last,
Close up your fingers tight and hold him fast.

I WONDER WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE DROWNED?

Look at my knees,
That island rising from the steamy seas!
The candle's a tall lightship; my two hands
Are boats and barges anchored to the sands,
With mighty cliffs all round;
They're full of wine and riches from far lands....
_I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?_

I can make caves,
By lifting up the island and huge waves
And storms, and then with head and ears well under
Blow bubbles with a monstrous roar like thunder,
A bull-of-Bashan sound.
The seas run high and the boats split asunder....
_I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?_

The thin soap slips
And slithers like a shark under the ships.
My toes are on the soap-dish--that's the effect
Of my huge storms; an iron steamer's wrecked.
The soap slides round and round;
He's biting the old sailors, I expect....
_I wonder what it feels like to be drowned?_

THE LAST POST

The bugler sent a call of high romance--
"Lights out! Lights out!" to the deserted square.
On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer:
"God, if it's _this_ for me next time in France,
O spare the phantom bugle as I lie
Dead in the gas and smoke and roar of guns,
Dead in a row with other broken ones,
Lying so stiff and still under the sky--
Jolly young Fusiliers, too good to die ..."
The music ceased, and the red sunset flare
Was blood about his head as he stood there.

INDEX

_Names of Authors are in Capitals. Titles of Poems are in Italics._

ABERCROMBIE, LASCELLES, xxiv, 174-177

"A. E.," xvii, 76-77

_Aftermath_, 192

ALDINGTON, RICHARD, 216-219

_All-Souls_, 44

_An Athlete Dying Young, To_, 38

_An Old Fogey, To_, 45

_Arab Love-Song, An_, 35

_Astrologer's Song, An_, 66