Classic Poem

I

Shapely poplar, shivering white, poplar like a maiden,
Thinking, musing softly here, so light and so unladen,
That with every breath and stir, perpetually you gladden,
Teach me your still secrecies of thought that never sadden.

From the heavy-hearted earth, earth of grief and passion,
Maiden, would you spring with me, and leave men's lowly fashion,
Skyward lift with me your thoughts in cumberless elation,
Every leaf and every shoot a virgin aspiration.

The blue day, the floating clouds, the stars shall you for palace
Proffer their cathedral pomp, dawn her rosy chalice.
Where the birds are, you shall throng and revel to be lonely
In the blue of heaven to spire and sway with breezes only.

II

Beech, of leafy isles the queen, beech, of trees the lady,
Soaring to a tower of sighs, in branches soft and shady,
You that sunward lift your strength, to make of shadow duty,
Teach me, tree, your heavenly height, and earth-remembering beauty.

Maiden, would you soar like me, with day-upclouding tresses,
Beauty into bounty change, bend down the eye that blesses;
Make from heaven a shelter cool, to shepherd and sheep silly
Shadowing with shadiness, hot rose and fainting lily.

Through your glorious heart of gloom, the noonday wind awaking
In an ecstasy shall set swaying, blowing, shaking;
Leafy branches, in their nests set the sweet birds rocking
Till their happy song break out, the noonday ardour mocking.

Willow sweet, willow sad, willow by the river,
Taught by pensive love to droop, where ceaseless waters shiver,
Teach me, steadfast sorrower, your mournful grace of graces;
Weeping to make beautiful the silent water-places.

Maiden, would you learn of me the loveliness of mourning,
Droop into the chill, wan wave, strength, hardness, lofty scorning;
Drench your drooping soul in tears, content to love and languish,
Gaze in sorrow's looking-glass, and see the face of anguish?

In the very wash of woe, as your bowed soul shall linger,
You shall touch the sheer, bright stars, and on the moon set finger;
You shall hear, where brooks have birth, the mountain-pine's emotion,
Catch upon the broadening stream the sound and swell of ocean.