Ghost-bereft With other stories and studies in verse: By Jane Barlow |
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AN ERASURE |
 | Ghost-bereft |  |
128
AN ERASURE
Charmed to most crystal stillness by a wand
Of sunlit calm, the mountain lake to-day
Thought all her steep groves over, leaf and spray,
Nor missed one dim bluebell or tawny frond—
So earnestly her lovely task she conned—
Or streak of gold-green turf that seemed a ray
'Twixt beechen stems, or lichened boulder grey,
Or curve of keen-edged crag uplift beyond.
Of sunlit calm, the mountain lake to-day
Thought all her steep groves over, leaf and spray,
Nor missed one dim bluebell or tawny frond—
So earnestly her lovely task she conned—
Or streak of gold-green turf that seemed a ray
'Twixt beechen stems, or lichened boulder grey,
Or curve of keen-edged crag uplift beyond.
And now the flagging pinion of a breeze
Scarce flicked the water, yet swift ripples press
With myriad lines to blur all trace of these.
Great wealth, sad heart, were thine did'st thou possess
But half her gift: such happy memories
To brood on—or such deft forgetfulness.
Scarce flicked the water, yet swift ripples press
129
Great wealth, sad heart, were thine did'st thou possess
But half her gift: such happy memories
To brood on—or such deft forgetfulness.
| Ghost-bereft | |