LANDSCAPES

The rain was over, and the brilliant air

Made every little blade of grass appear

Vivid and startling — everything was there

With sharpened outlines, eloquently clear,

As though one saw it in a crystal sphere.

The rusty sumac with its struggling spires;

The golden-rod with all its million fires;

( A million torches swinging in the wind )

A single poplar, marvellously thinned,

Half like a naked boy, half like a sword;

Clouds, like the haughty banners of the Lord;

A group of pansies with their shrewish faces,

Little old ladies cackling over laces;

The quaint, unhurried road that curved so well;

The prim petunias with their rich, rank smell;

The lettuce-birds, the creepers in the field —

How bountifully were they all revealed!

How arrogantly each one seemed to thrive —

So frank and strong, so radiantly alive!

And over all the morning-minded earth

There seemed to spread a sharp and kindling mirth,

Piercing the stubborn stones until I saw

The toad face heaven without shame or awe,

The ant confront the stars, and every weed

Grow proud as though it bore a royal seed;

While all the things that die and decompose

Sent forth their bloom as richly as the rose...

Oh, what a liberal power that made them thrive

And keep the very dirt that died, alive.

And now I saw the slender willow-tree

No longer calm or drooping listlessly,

Letting its languid branches sway and fall

As though it danced in some sad ritual;

But rather like a young, athletic girl,

Fearless and gay, her hair all out of curl,

And flying in the wind — her head thrown back,

Her arms flung up, her garments flowing slack,

And all her rushing spirits running over...

What made a sober tree seem such a rover —

Or made the staid and stalwart apple-trees,

That stood for years knee-deep in velvet peace,

Turn all their fruit to little worlds of flame,

And burn the trembling orchard there below.

What lit the heart of every golden-glow —

Oh, why was nothing weary, dull or tame?...

Beauty it was, and keen, compassionate mirth

That drives the vast and energetic earth.

And, with abrupt and visionary eyes,

I saw the huddled tenements arise.

Here where the merry clover danced and shone

Sprang agonies of iron and of stone;

There, where green Silence laughed or stood enthralled,

Cheap music blared and evil alleys sprawled.

The roaring avenues, the shrieking mills;

Brothels and prisons on those kindly hills —

The menace of these things swept over me;

A threatening, unconquerable sea...

A stirring landscape and a generous earth!

Freshening courage and benevolent mirth —

And then the city, like a hideous sore...

Good God, and what is all this beauty for?