Page:Poems by Isaac Rosenberg (1922).djvu/136

 Come from your father or you'll get no cake; He's been a long journey. Bring me the pictured book he brought for you. What! Already cut to pieces? Put away that horn from your father's ear, And stay that horrid noise: come, Amak.

Look, mother, what I've found.

It dances with my blood: when my eyes caught it first I was like lost, and yearned and yearned and yearned, And strained like iron to stay my head from falling Upon that beggar's breast where the jade stone hung. Perhaps the spirit of Saul's young love lies here Strayed far and brought back by this stranger near. Saul said his discourse was more deep than Heaven.