Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/236

POETRY: A Magazine of Verse Went from the temple with a weary throng
 * Of questions in my soul, and told my grief

To the heart of the yellow flower with the scent
 * Of citrus clinging to its pointed leaf.

I took my sorrow into the woods,
 * Saying, "Nature will bend to me

And hold me close; and her quiet moods
 * Shall he as physician and friend to me."

Looking to hear her rivers sigh
 * Because my heart was worn with grief,

To hark the thunders break her sky,
 * To catch the moan of her aspen leaf,