had fed from my hand;
Though I heard the white laughter of ripples and the breezes'
faint answering hail,
And somewhere a bird's voice I knew not--yet hearing could
half understand...

And lo, at my doorstep I saw it; it shouted to me as I came--
It laughed in its simple revealment, a miracle common and wild;
Plainly I heard and beheld it, bright as a forest of flame--
And its face was the face of a mother, and its voice was the
voice of a child.

THE STIRRUP-CUP

Your eyes--and a thousand stars
Leap from the night to aid me;
I scale the impossible bars,
I laugh at a world that dismayed me.

Your voice--and the thundering skies
Tremble and cease to appall me--
Coward no longer, I rise
Spurred for what battles may call me.

Your arms--and my purpose grows strong;
Your lips--and high passions complete me...
For your love, it is armor and Song--
And where is the thing to defeat me!

SPRING ON BROADWAY

Make way for Spring--
Spring that's a stranger in the city,
Spring that's a truant in the town.
Make way for Spring, for she has no pity
And she will tear your barriers down--
Make way for Spring!

See from her hidden valleys,
With mirth that never palls,
She comes with songs and sallies,
With bells and magic calls,
And dances down your alleys,
And whispers through your walls.

You who never once have missed her
In your town of pomp and pride
Now in vain you will resist her--
You will feel her at your side;
Even in the smallest street,
Even in the densest throng,
She will follow at your feet,
She will walk with you along.
She will stop you as you start
Here and there, and growing bolder,
She will touch you on the shoulder,
She will clutch you at the heart...

Merchant, you who drink your mead
From a golden cup,
Shut your ears, and do not heed;
Look not up.
Beware--for she is light as air,
And her charm will work confusion;
Spring is but an old delusion
And a snare....
Merchant, you who drink your mead
While the thirsty die,
Shut your eyes, and do not heed--
Pass her by.

Maiden with the nun-like eyes
Do not pause to greet her;
Spring is far too wild and wise--
Do not meet her.
Do not listen while she tells
Her persuasive lures and spell