WINTER

Green Mistletoe! 
Oh, I remember now
A dell of snow,
Frost on the bough;
None there but I: 
Snow, snow, and a wintry sky.

None there but I,
And footprints one by one,
Zigzaggedly,
Where I had run;
Where shrill and powdery
A robin sat in the tree.

And he whistled sweet;
And I in the crusted snow
With snow-clubbed feet
Jigged to and fro,
Till, from the day,
The rose-light ebbed away.

And the robin flew
Into the air, the air,
The white mist through;
And small and rare
The night-frost fell
In the calm and misty dell.

And the dusk gathered low,
And the silver moon and stars
On the frozen snow
Drew taper bars,
Kindled winking fires
In the hooded briers.

And the sprawling Bear
Growled deep in the sky;
And Orion’s hair
Streamed sparkling by: 
But the North sighed low,
“Snow, snow, more snow!”

* * * * *

ENVOI

* * * * *

TO MY MOTHER

Thine is my all, how little when ’tis told
        Beside thy gold! 
Thine the first peace, and mine the livelong strife;
Thine the clear dawn, and mine the night of life;
        Thine the unstained belief,
        Darkened in grief.

Scarce even a flower but thine its beauty and name,
        Dimmed, yet the same;
Never in twilight comes the moon to me,
Stealing thro’ those far woods, but tells of thee,
        Falls, dear, on my wild heart,
        And takes thy part.

Thou art the child, and I—­how steeped in age! 
        A blotted page
From that clear, little book life’s taken away: 
How could I read it, dear, so dark the day? 
        Be it all memory
        ’Twixt thee and me!

* * * * *

THE LISTENERS:  1914

* * * * *

THE THREE CHERRY TREES

  There were three cherry trees once,
  Grew in a garden all shady;
And there for delight of so gladsome a sight,
  Walked a most beautiful lady,
  Dreamed a most beautiful lady.

  Birds in those branches did sing,
  Blackbird and throstle and linnet,
But she walking there was by far the most fair—­
  Lovelier than all else within it,
  Blackbird and throstle and linnet.

  But blossoms to berries do come,
  All hanging on stalks light and slender,
And one long summer’s day charmed that lady away,
  With vows sweet and merry and tender;
  A lover with voice low and tender.

  Moss and lichen the green branches deck;
  Weeds nod in its paths green and shady: 
Yet a light footstep seems there to wander in dreams,
  The ghost of that beautiful lady,
  That happy and beautiful lady.