A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS

There was slight rain that afternoon, And tempest in the apple trees; But as the sun went down the moon Sailed swiftly to a western breeze. Day kindled something in your blood, Your fancies roved with dove and hawk; There was no promise in your mood Nor soft assurance in your talk. I felt you might mislead my trust And slight a love too surely yours; You were so wild, I felt you must Be kindred to the woods and moors. But when we passed the orchard through The dusk had crept into the sky; Your eyes betrayed a dream which grew Until I thought I heard you sigh. You were an ardent star that waited For night to be yourself and show How surely afternoon had fated A love that nothing could forego.

The sky was full of clouds at rest Like dolphins in a waste of blue. We tramped along a country road Into the village, I and you. The dogwood bloomed along the fences. We heard the songs of larks and thrushes. The country door-yards teemed with hues Of lilac trees and almond bushes. The long blaze of the setting sun Shone in your eyes and analyzed Their little rifts of gray and brown, And left your secret undisguised. And I was silent thinking over The old threads raveled from your heart. I hear you clearer now than then: “How can we part? How can we part?”

Shadows upon the wall And the ghost of a past on the floor, Here where the hours made carnival In the days that are no more. And the chamber is cold and bare, And the wax from the taper drips; But I bury my face in your hair, And swoon at the touch of your lips. We went from the house to the wood, But never a word we spoke; And an eerie wind like our mood Rustled the leaves of the oak. Dead leaves, tremulous, crisp, That breathed a forgotten tune; A cloud the shape of a wisp Blotted the soaring moon. Silent we walked the path, And then the wild farewell; I saw your form like a wraith Fade in the forest’s dell. If joy would never depart, If we could but still the pain— Dear, I awoke with a pang in my heart And heard the sound of the rain.

Michigan Avenue streams with people— Ten years alter the avenue. It’s April again, and there are dolphin Clouds at rest in a waste of blue. A girl goes by with a spray of lilacs Pinned at her breast, and quick as thought Country fences, dogwood blossoms Over the granite scene are wrought. You come in my mind! It’s spoiled by the glimpse Of a monster diamond that glints and glows; A black-eyed Gadarene goes past Insolent, heavy, and hooked of nose. I scan his face that runs with fat, And the fleshly sag of his under lip; Then back to the diamond again, the hand Holds your arm with a master grip!