Mary Carolyn Davies
Reading edition
CLOISTERED
To-night the little girl-nun died.
Her hands were laid
Across her breast; the last sun tried
To kiss her quiet braid;
And where the little river cried,
Her grave was made.
The little girl-nun’s soul, in awe,
Went silently
To where her brother Christ she saw,
Under the Living Tree;
He sighed, and his face seemed to draw
Her tears, to see.
He laid his hands on her hands mild,
And gravely blessed;
“Blind, they that kept you so,” he smiled,
With tears unguessed.
“Saw they not Mary held a child
Upon her breast?”
72
SONGS OF A GIRL
I
Perhaps,
God, planting Eden,
Dropped, by mistake, a seed
In Time’s neighbor-plot,
That grew to be
This hour?
II
You and I picked up Life and looked at it curiously;
We did not know whether to keep it for a plaything or not.
It was beautiful to see, like a red firecracker,
And we knew, too, that it was lighted.
We dropped it while the fuse was still burning....
III
I am going to die too, flower, in a little while—
Do not be so proud.
IV
The sun is dying
Alone
On an island
In the bay.
Close your eyes, poppies—
I would not have you see death,
You are so young!
V
The sun falls
Like a drop of blood
From some hero.
We,
Who love pain,
Delight in this.
73