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A STUDY IN GRAY |
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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
435
A STUDY IN GRAY
[I]
A woman, fair to look upon,
Where waters whiten with the moon;
Around whom, glimmering o'er the lawn,
The white moths swoon.
Where waters whiten with the moon;
Around whom, glimmering o'er the lawn,
The white moths swoon.
A mouth of music; eyes of love;
And hands of blended snow and scent,
That touch the pearly shadow of
An instrument.
And hands of blended snow and scent,
That touch the pearly shadow of
An instrument.
And low and sweet that song of sleep
After the song of love is hushed;
While all the longing, here, to weep,
Is held and crushed.
After the song of love is hushed;
While all the longing, here, to weep,
Is held and crushed.
Then leafy silence, that is musk
With breath of the magnolia tree,
While dwindles, moth-white, through the dusk
Her drapery.
With breath of the magnolia tree,
While dwindles, moth-white, through the dusk
Her drapery.
436
Let me remember how a heart
Wrote its romance upon that night!—
God help my soul to read each part
Of it aright!
Wrote its romance upon that night!—
God help my soul to read each part
Of it aright!
And like a dead leaf shut between
A book's dull chapters, stained and dark,
That page, with immemorial green,
Of life I mark.
A book's dull chapters, stained and dark,
That page, with immemorial green,
Of life I mark.
II
It is not well for me to hear
That song's appealing melody:
The pain of loss comes all too near,
Through it, to me.
That song's appealing melody:
The pain of loss comes all too near,
Through it, to me.
The loss of her whose love looks through
The mist death's hand hath hung between—
Within the shadow of the yew
Her grave is green.
The mist death's hand hath hung between—
Within the shadow of the yew
Her grave is green.
Ah, dream that vanished long ago!
Oh, anguish of remembered tears!
And shadow of unlifted woe
Athwart the years!
Oh, anguish of remembered tears!
And shadow of unlifted woe
Athwart the years!
437
That haunt the sad rooms of my days,
As keepsakes of unperished love,
Where pale the memory of her face
Hangs, framed above.
As keepsakes of unperished love,
Where pale the memory of her face
Hangs, framed above.
This olden song of love and sleep,
She used to sing, is now a spell
That opens doors within the deep
Of my heart's hell,
She used to sing, is now a spell
That opens doors within the deep
Of my heart's hell,
In music making visible
One soul-assertive memory,
That steals unto my side to tell
My loss to me.
One soul-assertive memory,
That steals unto my side to tell
My loss to me.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |