Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SEVEN AGES, by JEWELL BOTHWELL TULL


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SEVEN AGES, by                    
First Line: Over the dim hill in the twilight
Last Line: For I know it is the beginning.
Subject(s): Disappointment; Dreams; Future Life; Hope; Nightmares; Retribution; Eternity; After Life; Optimism


I

Over the dim hill in the twilight
Comes a tall White Elephant,
And his rider the Dark Prince!
I stand with proud chin like a Princess;
For I know they are coming to me,
Bringing strings of emeralds,
And purple sashes.
The Dark Prince will smile into my eyes,
He will kneel at my feet. --

They come nearer -- they ride by --
Our neighbor's hired man and his gray horse.

Perhaps to-morrow they will come,
The Dark Prince and the tall White Elephant.

II

They tell me it is sinful to dream,
Sitting idle on my father's door-step,
In the gray twilight.
They laugh at the Dark Prince and the tall White Elephant.
They say I should marry the neighbor's hired hand,
For he will bring me home and children.

I shall find peace and never dream again.

III

They lied to me.
I married our neighbor's hired-man,
I sit on my own door-step in the dusk,
The cows are fed, the hogs are fed;
He is smoking his pipe, sitting with his shoes off-yawning.
He is a good man.
My only cry against him is
That he can hold me in his arms
And cannot hold my dreams.

IV

They lied to me!
There is a baby in my arms --
There have been five of them;
Not one has blotted out the long dim hill,
The purple twilight and the tall Dark Prince.
I wait, watching the gray road.
Knowing now it is a sin to dream.

V

I sit poking the ashes, watching the clock.
There's nothing to do anymore --
There's not even anything to dream about.
I am tired remembering
How children used to play.

VI

I could say bitter things to-night,
While the gray wind moans,
And the gray ash withers as I wither.
I could complain as the wind complains --
Yet I think the wind knows more the why of its sorrow
Than I do,
Withering with the gray ash,
Sobbing with the gray wind.

VII

I hear them say I am dying,
And I laugh.
I know I look to them like a dry and withered leaf
That has let go at last,
Fluttering to the ground to be forever buried.
I am alone in the purple shadow,
And over the dim hill in the twilight
Comes a tall White Elephant
And his rider the Dark Prince!
They whisper, "It is the end!"
And I laugh --
For I know it is the beginning.







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