Poems by Elinor Jenkins Part 4

So fair a dream last night my heart had kissed, I sought some token of it, but 'twould give Nothing, save formless fancies fugitive, That slipped from words' encirclement away-- As, when h.e.l.l's shades 'gan quicken with the day, His lost beloved fled the lutanist.

_Feather Boats_

While the wind low o'er the green pool creeps Spoiling with kisses the wood's mirrored beauty, Kneel we close down by the margin preparing To launch the frail craft on those perilous deeps.

Swift the wind takes them, we lean to see Over the water gallantly faring Forth our fantastical argosy.

Silver-white galleons beating to seaward, Freighted with fancies lighter than foam, Bound for far havens and tall towns enchanted-- Stir, sleepy breezes, and bring them safe home.

Cabot sailing for ever and ever To the unknown where the wild ducks nest; Morgan mooring to rape the treasure Hid in a lily's unsullied breast; Nearer, in sh.o.r.e among lowering leaf-bergs Franklin, crushed on his fatal quest.

So I behold in your eyes re-awaken Brave sad tales that the sea wind sings, Tales of old mariners, daring hid dangers, Ghosts of forgotten adventurings.

Heart of my heart, in your manhood's hereafter, When you've grown taller, and harder to please, Will you turn sometimes your wandering wishes Back to the hours when with eyes full of laughter You watched where the day-dreaming willow trees Dipped their long fingers to catch at the fishes, Mock sails flying on mimic seas?

_The Lovers' Walk_

Two lovers walked in a green garden way 'Neath towering poplar pillars all arow; The still June midnight close about them lay: They whispered soft and low.

Though they could feel no wind, they heard it creep High in the poplars, whispering secret schemes; The tall trees stood as sentinels asleep, And listening through their dreams.

The full moon's white fire lamp hung round and fair Above the highest poplar's s.h.i.+vering crest, The lazy fountain's waters stirred the air And softly sank to rest.

Unseen the honeysuckle trailed that fills The dim air with its heavy sweet perfume, But the wan fire-eyed wraiths of daffodils Stared spectral through the gloom.

They felt no footsteps fall beside their own, But long their like had loved the garden well; And never two may walk this walk alone: Their presence wakes a spell.

When here live lovers loiter to and fro With tender words and lips of kisses fain, Then those dead men that walked here long ago Meet their lost loves again.

The grey dew keeps no traces of their feet, Their speech is lighter than the bat's shrill cry, They hover where of yore they used to meet Like shadows pa.s.sing by.

Though many wander where the moonlight lies Yet are they lonely as in life they were, For each ghost looks into his own love's eyes And sees no other there.

And when the living lips their farewells frame And the live feet turn to the garden door, The shades depart in darkness as they came And are not any more.

Did those two guess who loved that night in June That others trod the gra.s.s as well as they, And won from them a pa.s.sing moment's boon To love as in life's day?

Or did they think in that still haunted place, As those poor phantoms were they soon must be And pluck at other unknown lovers' grace The joys that once were free?

Perchance their glad hearts thrust such thoughts away; Of that night's tryst no more than this they own: That they two, in a gra.s.sy garden way Once walked an hour alone.