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THE TOLLMAN'S DAUGHTER |
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|
 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
319
THE TOLLMAN'S DAUGHTER
She stood waist-deep among the briers:
Above, in twisted lengths, were rolled
The sunset's tangled whorls of gold,
Blown from the west's cloud-pillared fires.
And in the hush, no sound did mar,
You almost heard, o'er hill and dell,
Deep, bubbling over, star on star,
The night's blue cisterns slowly well.
A crane, a shadowy crescent, crossed
The sunset, winging 'thwart the west;
While up the east her silver breast
Of light the moon brought, white as frost.
Above, in twisted lengths, were rolled
The sunset's tangled whorls of gold,
Blown from the west's cloud-pillared fires.
And in the hush, no sound did mar,
You almost heard, o'er hill and dell,
Deep, bubbling over, star on star,
The night's blue cisterns slowly well.
A crane, a shadowy crescent, crossed
The sunset, winging 'thwart the west;
While up the east her silver breast
Of light the moon brought, white as frost.
So have I painted her, you see,
The tollman's daughter.—What an arm
And throat were hers! and what a form!
—Art dreams of such divinity.
What braids of night to smooth and kiss!—
There is no pigment anywhere
A man might use to picture this—
The splendor of her raven hair.
A face as beautiful and bright,
As rosy fair as twilight skies,
Lit with the stars of hazel eyes
And eyebrowed black with penciled night.
The tollman's daughter.—What an arm
And throat were hers! and what a form!
—Art dreams of such divinity.
What braids of night to smooth and kiss!—
There is no pigment anywhere
A man might use to picture this—
The splendor of her raven hair.
320
As rosy fair as twilight skies,
Lit with the stars of hazel eyes
And eyebrowed black with penciled night.
For her, I know, where'er she trod
Each dewdrop raised a looking-glass,
To catch her image, from the grass;
That wildflowers bloomed along the sod,
And whispered perfume when she smiled;
The wood-bird hushed to hear her song,
Or, heart-enamoured, tame though wild,
Before her feet flew fluttering long:
The brook went mad with melody,
Eddied in laughter when she kissed
With naked feet its amethyst—
And I—she was my world, ah me!
Each dewdrop raised a looking-glass,
To catch her image, from the grass;
That wildflowers bloomed along the sod,
And whispered perfume when she smiled;
The wood-bird hushed to hear her song,
Or, heart-enamoured, tame though wild,
Before her feet flew fluttering long:
The brook went mad with melody,
Eddied in laughter when she kissed
With naked feet its amethyst—
And I—she was my world, ah me!
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |