Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/378

POETRY: A Magazine of Verse

Like a woman come to her time.


 * The swaying corn-haulms

In the heavy places of the field Cry to be gathered. Apples redden, and drop from their rods. Out of their sheath of prickly leaves The marrows creep, fat and white. The blue pallor of ripeness Comes on the fruit of the vine-branch.


 * Fecund and still fecund

After æons of bearing: Not old, not dry, not wearied out; But fresh as when the unseen Right Hand First moved on Bri. And the candle of day was set, And dew fell from the stars' feet, And cloths of greenness covered thee.


 * Let me kiss thy breasts:

I am the son and lover.


 * Womb-fellow am I of the sunburnt oat,

Friendly gossip of the mearings;