Beneath this sod lie the remains Of one who died of growing pains.

In Answer to a Request

You ask me for a sonnet. Ah, my Dear, Can clocks tick back to yesterday at noon?

Can cracked and fallen leaves recall last June And leap up on the boughs, now stiff and sere?

For your sake, I would go and seek the year, Faded beyond the purple ranks of dune, Blown sands of drifted hours, which the moon Streaks with a ghostly finger, and her sneer Pulls at my lengthening shadow. Yes, "tis that!

My shadow stretches forward, and the ground Is dark in front because the light"s behind.

It is grotesque, with such a funny hat, In watching it and walking I have found More than enough to occupy my mind.

I cannot turn, the light would make me blind.

POPPY SEED

The Great Adventure of Max Breuck

1

A yellow band of light upon the street Pours from an open door, and makes a wide Pathway of bright gold across a sheet Of calm and liquid moonshine. From inside Come shouts and streams of laughter, and a s.n.a.t.c.h Of song, soon drowned and lost again in mirth, The clip of tankards on a table top, And stir of booted heels. Against the patch Of candle-light a shadow falls, its girth Proclaims the host himself, and master of his shop.

2

This is the tavern of one Hilverd.i.n.k, Jan Hilverd.i.n.k, whose wines are much esteemed.

Within his cellar men can have to drink The rarest cordials old monks ever schemed To coax from pulpy grapes, and with nice art Improve and spice their virgin juiciness.

Here froths the amber beer of many a brew, Crowning each pewter tankard with as smart A cap as ever in his wantonness Winter set glittering on top of an old yew.

3

Tall candles stand upon the table, where Are twisted gla.s.ses, ruby-sparked with wine, Clarets and ports. Those topaz b.u.mpers were Drained from slim, long-necked bottles of the Rhine.

The centre of the board is piled with pipes, Slender and clean, the still unbaptized clay Awaits its burning fate. Behind, the vault Stretches from dim to dark, a groping way Bordered by casks and puncheons, whose bra.s.s stripes And bands gleam dully still, beyond the gay tumult.

4

"For good old Master Hilverd.i.n.k, a toast!"

Clamoured a youth with ta.s.sels on his boots.

"Bring out your oldest brandy for a boast, From that small barrel in the very roots Of your deep cellar, man. Why here is Max!

Ho! Welcome, Max, you"re scarcely here in time.

We want to drink to old Jan"s luck, and smoke His best tobacco for a grand climax.

Here, Jan, a paper, fragrant as crushed thyme, We"ll have the best to wish you luck, or may we choke!"

5

Max Breuck unclasped his broadcloth cloak, and sat.

"Well thought of, Franz; here"s luck to Mynheer Jan."

The host set down a jar; then to a vat Lost in the distance of his cellar, ran.

Max took a pipe as graceful as the stem Of some long tulip, crammed it full, and drew The pungent smoke deep to his grateful lung.

It curled all blue throughout the cave and flew Into the silver night. At once there flung Into the crowded shop a boy, who cried to them:

6

"Oh, sirs, is there some learned lawyer here, Some advocate, or all-wise counsellor?

My master sent me to inquire where Such men do mostly be, but every door Was shut and barred, for late has grown the hour.

I pray you tell me where I may now find One versed in law, the matter will not wait."

"I am a lawyer, boy," said Max, "my mind Is not locked to my business, though "tis late.

I shall be glad to serve what way is in my power.

7

Then once more, cloaked and ready, he set out, Tripping the footsteps of the eager boy Along the dappled cobbles, while the rout Within the tavern jeered at his employ.

Through new-burst elm leaves filtered the white moon, Who peered and splashed between the twinkling boughs, Flooded the open s.p.a.ces, and took flight Before tall, serried houses in platoon, Guarded by shadows. Past the Custom House They took their hurried way in the Spring-scented night.

8

Before a door which fronted a ca.n.a.l The boy halted. A dim tree-shaded spot.

The water lapped the stones in musical And rhythmic tappings, and a galliot Slumbered at anchor with no light aboard.

The boy knocked twice, and steps approached. A flame Winked through the keyhole, then a key was turned, And through the open door Max went toward Another door, whence sound of voices came.

He entered a large room where candelabra burned.

9

An aged man in quilted dressing gown Rose up to greet him. "Sir," said Max, "you sent Your messenger to seek throughout the town A lawyer. I have small accomplishment, But I am at your service, and my name Is Max Breuck, Counsellor, at your command."

"Mynheer," replied the aged man, "obliged Am I, and count myself much privileged.

I am Cornelius Kurler, and my fame Is better known on distant oceans than on land.

10

My ship has tasted water in strange seas, And bartered goods at still uncharted isles.

© 2024 www.topnovel.cc