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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FRIENDS, by OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN Poet's Biography First Line: There's one comes often as the sun Last Line: I sometimes see across the worlda room. Alternate Author Name(s): Burke, Fielding Subject(s): Friendship; Man-woman Relationships; Male-female Relations | |||
THERE'S one comes often as the sun And fills my room with morning; comes with step Light as a youth's that joy has hurried home. If he should greet my cheek, so might a wind Blow roses till they touch, silk leaf to leaf, And on their beauty leave no deeper dye; But with that touch an old world is untombed, Gay, festal-gowned; and two with nuptial eyes Walk arm-locked there, flinging the curls of Greece From proud, smooth brows. As trapped between two throbs, Their laughter dies in silent passion's kiss; And I from glow of ancient dust look up To meet the untroubled eyes of my friend's bride, Her pretty, depthless eyes that smile and smile Possessingly, not grudging alien me A footstool place about her sceptred love. And I, too, from imperial largess, smile. Another comes more rarely than new moon, And always with a flower,one; pours tea Like an old picture softly made alive, Sings me a ballad that once teased the ears Of golden Bess, and reads the book I love. If he must journey, first he comes to lay Knight-service on my hand; no passion then More swift than when a last cool petal falls To faded summer grass; but as he goes I see a girl deep in a forest lane, A narrow lane dark-roofed with locking firs; And there are purple foxgloves shoulder high, And round the girl's knees Canterbury bells. Upon the air is scent of wounded trees, As though a storm had passed there, and great owls Ruffle a shade unloved of birds that sing. But at the green lane's end, far down A bit of heart-shaped sun tells where the road Lies wide and open; on the sun the still Dark shadow of a steed: and by the girl One who shall ride,unvisored now, and pale. "And when I come," he says, to me who know He'll come that way no more; then hear my door Closed softly on a sob ten centuries old. And there is one whom never sun or moon Brings to my gate; but when amid a throng That fills some worldly room I see him pass. The light about me is of regions where Cold peaks are blue against a colder sky, And in the dusk-line where begins the Doubt Men call the Known, we stand in wingless pause, Unheavened weariness in untaught feet, And in our hearts sad longing for the fire Of stars from whence we came. "The earth," he says, And warms in his my hand amazed to lie In strange, near comfort,blossom of first pain. Then low we dip into the clinging night That is the Lethe of God-memories; Stumble and sink in chains of time and sense Tangle in treacheries of a weed-hung globe, And tread the dun, dim verges of defeat Till spirit chafes to vision, and we learn What morning is, and where the way of love. In that gold dawn we part, knowing at last That earth can not divide us. With a smile He goes, and Fate leads not but runs before Like an indulgèd child. That smile again I sometimes see across the worlda room. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MISERY AND SPLENDOR by ROBERT HASS THE APPLE TREES AT OLEMA by ROBERT HASS DOUBLE SONNET by ANTHONY HECHT CONDITIONS XXI by ESSEX HEMPHILL CALIFORNIA SORROW: MOUNTAIN VIEW by MARY KINZIE SUPERBIA: A TRIUMPH WITH NO TRAIN by MARY KINZIE COUNSEL TO UNREASON by LEONIE ADAMS TWENTY QUESTIONS by DAVID LEHMAN THE PATH-FLOWER by OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN |
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