-
In this place where pale silences flower into sound
Let us strive for some secret of all the profound
Deep and calm Silence that meshes men 'round!
There's as much of God hinted in one ripple's
plashes--
There's as much of Truth glints in yon
dragon-fly's flight--
There's as much Purpose gleams where yonder
trout flashes
As in--any book else!--could we read things
aright.

Then nymph of mine indolence, here let us hide,
Learn, listen, and question; idle here and abide
Where the rushes and lilies lean low to the tide.

"THEY HAD NO POET ..."

"Vain was the chief's, the sage's pride!
They had no poet and they died."--POPE.

By Tigris, or the streams of Ind,
Ere Colchis rose, or Babylon,
Forgotten empires dreamed and sinned,
Setting tall towns against the dawn,

Which, when the proud Sun smote upon,
Flashed fire for fire and pride for pride;
Their names were ... Ask oblivion! ...
_"They had no poet, and they died."_

Queens, dusk of hair and tawny-skinned,
That loll where fellow leopards fawn ...
Their hearts are dust before the wind,
Their loves, that shook the world, are wan!

Passion is mighty ... but, anon,
Strong Death has Romance for his bride;
Their legends ... Ask oblivion! ...
_"They had no poet, and they died."_

Heroes, the braggart trumps that dinned
Their futile triumphs, monarch, pawn,
Wild tribesmen, kingdoms disciplined,
Passed like a whirlwind and were gone;

They built with bronze and gold and brawn,
The inner Vision still denied;
Their conquests ... Ask oblivion! ...
_"They had no poet, and they died."_

Dumb oracles, and priests withdrawn,
Was it but flesh they deified?
Their gods were ... Ask oblivion! ...
_"They had no poet, and they died."_

NEW YORK

SHE is hot to the sea that crouches beside,
Human and hot to the cool stars peering down,
My passionate city, my quivering town,
And her dark blood, tide upon purple tide,
With throbs as of thunder beats,
With leaping rhythms and vast, is swirled
Through the shaken lengths of her veined streets...
She pulses, the heart of a world!

I have thrilled with her ecstasy, agony, woe--
Hath she a mood that I do not know?
The winds of her music tumultuous have seized
me and swayed me,
Have lifted, have swung me around
In thei