THE FIRST SPRING DAY

I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one: 
    Sing, robin, sing;
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring.

I wonder if the springtide of this year
Will bring another Spring both lost and dear;
If heart and spirit will find out their Spring,
Or if the world alone will bud and sing:  10
    Sing, hope, to me;
Sweet notes, my hope, soft notes for memory.

The sap will surely quicken soon or late,
The tardiest bird will twitter to a mate;
So Spring must dawn again with warmth and bloom,
Or in this world, or in the world to come: 
    Sing, voice of Spring,
Till I too blossom and rejoice and sing.

THE CONVENT THRESHOLD

There’s blood between us, love, my love,
There’s father’s blood, there’s brother’s blood;
And blood’s a bar I cannot pass: 
I choose the stairs that mount above,
Stair after golden skyward stair,
To city and to sea of glass. 
My lily feet are soiled with mud,
With scarlet mud which tells a tale
Of hope that was, of guilt that was,
Of love that shall not yet avail; 10
Alas, my heart, if I could bare
My heart, this selfsame stain is there: 
I seek the sea of glass and fire
To wash the spot, to burn the snare;
Lo, stairs are meant to lift us higher: 
Mount with me, mount the kindled stair.

Your eyes look earthward, mine look up. 
I see the far-off city grand,
Beyond the hills a watered land,
Beyond the gulf a gleaming strand 20
Of mansions where the righteous sup;
Who sleep at ease among their trees,
Or wake to sing a cadenced hymn
With Cherubim and Seraphim;
They bore the Cross, they drained the cup,
Racked, roasted, crushed, wrenched limb from limb,
They the offscouring of the world: 
The heaven of starry heavens unfurled,
The sun before their face is dim.

You looking earthward what see you? 30
Milk-white wine-flushed among the vines,
Up and down leaping, to and fro,
Most glad, most full, made strong with wines,
Blooming as peaches pearled with dew,
Their golden windy hair afloat,
Love-music warbling in their throat,
Young men and women come and go.

You linger, yet the time is short: 
Flee for your life, gird up your strength
To flee; the shadows stretched at length 40
Show that day wanes, that night draws nigh;
Flee to the mountain, tarry not. 
Is this a time for smile and sigh,
For songs among the secret trees
Where sudden blue birds nest and sport? 
The time is short and yet you stay: 
To-day while it is called to-day
Kneel, wrestle, knock, do violence, pray;
To-day is short, to-morrow nigh: 
Why will you die? why will you die? 50