 | The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter |  |
205
THE AWAKENING
I had no culture for my love,
Hungrily my heart cried:
“Knowledge, be my master,
Turn, brain, O faster.
Grind the seeds of wisdom fine,
Till no mind be wise as mine,
At my wit in smiting
Men will smile delighting.
'Tis not too quick for craft, or
Not too keen for laughter.”
Wise for love's sweet sake to be
Surely is no vanity.
Hungrily my heart cried:
“Knowledge, be my master,
Turn, brain, O faster.
Grind the seeds of wisdom fine,
Till no mind be wise as mine,
At my wit in smiting
Men will smile delighting.
'Tis not too quick for craft, or
Not too keen for laughter.”
Wise for love's sweet sake to be
Surely is no vanity.
I had no fairness for my love.
Hungrily my heart cried:
“Beauty, be my handmaid!
Leave me unafraid,
That another glass have shown
Fair a face as hath my own.”
So the early morning
Found me still adorning,
Going from the glass with pride,
Coming back unsatisfied.
Vain for love's sweet sake to be
Surely is no vanity.
Hungrily my heart cried:
“Beauty, be my handmaid!
Leave me unafraid,
That another glass have shown
Fair a face as hath my own.”
So the early morning
Found me still adorning,
Going from the glass with pride,
Coming back unsatisfied.
Vain for love's sweet sake to be
Surely is no vanity.
206
Lo! my love was not my love.
Stonily my heart cried:
“Take a fool for master,
Turn, brain, O faster,
While the jingling bells repeat
Much the chaff and little wheat.
Behind a pair of soul-lit eyes
You a soul would fain surprise.
Non ewise as he you ne'er could know,
Because a sweet tongue tells you so.
All his deeds were done before;
All his thoughts a borrowed store.
Said I, “He is heaven-sent
With his thinking brows so bent,”
This false light that made my day
Was the sun's reflected ray,
Dancing broken on the wave
Of ignorance, nor can I save
One tossing spark of foolish light
To make a beacon for my night.
Blind for love's sweet sake to be,
Seeing is a misery.”
Stonily my heart cried:
“Take a fool for master,
Turn, brain, O faster,
While the jingling bells repeat
Much the chaff and little wheat.
Behind a pair of soul-lit eyes
You a soul would fain surprise.
Non ewise as he you ne'er could know,
Because a sweet tongue tells you so.
All his deeds were done before;
All his thoughts a borrowed store.
Said I, “He is heaven-sent
With his thinking brows so bent,”
This false light that made my day
Was the sun's reflected ray,
Dancing broken on the wave
Of ignorance, nor can I save
One tossing spark of foolish light
To make a beacon for my night.
Blind for love's sweet sake to be,
Seeing is a misery.”
| The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter | |