CACTUS AND ROSE
She wore red roses as a queenHer jewels when she wills to shine;She pressed one full bud to her lips,The while she bent her eyes to mine:“Were not life cheap for such a flower?”Was it by chance her fingers strayedSo near my own? But ere the touchThe tempter in my blood was stayed.A mist was on the laughing eyes,It veiled her soft, enticing grace;Beyond her lure of gold and blueA tender, shadowy, haunting faceGrew like a star in twilit skiesWhen evening fades to rarer light;Again I saw the cactus flowers,Blood red, in braids as black as night.Again we paced the earthen floorIn waiting measure, till the danceSwept to its swift and dizzy whirl;And there were eyes that looked askanceBecause her brown hand lay in mineLike some small, gentle, brown-winged bird;And there were hearts had given lifeFor that one shy, low-spoken wordThat made the night so more than dear;That set my years to one strange tuneOf footfalls on the hard-beat earth,And soft guitar and low-hung moon;And wind that whispered through the roof’sRude thatch of branches interlaced;And bare, dark, earthen walls whereonThe leaping firelight roughly tracedHer shadow, swaying as we danced.—Then morning came, as calm and paleAs some dead face where tapers shine;And through the tule reeds the quailCalled mournfully—as if they knewNo other night would ever beSo dear, so rare, so blessed of God,From sunrise to eternity.White-robed as any bride she lay;Like weary stars the tapers shone;And what I vowed in that dim placeWas vowed to her dead heart alone:I went forth old, that had been young;But still I keep till life’s last hourThe quail call through the tule reeds,And one dead, crumbling, cactus flower.