THE FLYING HOUSE, AND THE MAY QUEEN ETERNAL
Queen Venus, come now, be my heroine,
To form my pictures, and to scan my song,
And dominate that tall, enchanted house,
Invisible house, where I have lived so long.
Fast-flying house, that crosses sea and land.
House, always mine and empty but for me.
Fly near me, so your shadow may be near
And fall across my doors, and comfort me.
That house, all lights and shadows and no walls,
Has, for its doors and windows, barriers proud,
Closed wings for doors, or open wings for doors,
And, for its windows, wind-harps, singing loud.
Even your wing-whirr is a comfort there,
Your wireless whisper heard, though far away,
Makes you the heroine in that tall house.
The romance stays, if such fine honors stay.
Here I will live on shadows, if I must,
Kissing one shadow's soft eyes to the end.
I will write out and draw new wind-harp rhymes,
Sons of your shadow's flesh and blood, dear friend.
(First contributed to Christopher Morley's Column in the New York Evening Post, “The Bowling Green,” then reproduced in his book, “The Bowling Green.”
