The Little ReviewVol. IOCTOBER, 1914No. 7Copyright, 1914, by Margaret C. Anderson.
The Little Review
Vol. IOCTOBER, 1914No. 7
Vol. IOCTOBER, 1914No. 7
Vol. I
OCTOBER, 1914
No. 7
Copyright, 1914, by Margaret C. Anderson.
Witter Bynner
They stand and bark like foolish dogs,“O notice us! O notice us!”And then they stand and whine....As if to say, “The good kind GodThat made the world made even us,All in the scheme divine.”And then they bark like foolish dogs,And then they stand and whine.
They stand and bark like foolish dogs,“O notice us! O notice us!”And then they stand and whine....As if to say, “The good kind GodThat made the world made even us,All in the scheme divine.”And then they bark like foolish dogs,And then they stand and whine.
They stand and bark like foolish dogs,“O notice us! O notice us!”And then they stand and whine....As if to say, “The good kind GodThat made the world made even us,All in the scheme divine.”And then they bark like foolish dogs,And then they stand and whine.
They stand and bark like foolish dogs,
“O notice us! O notice us!”
And then they stand and whine....
As if to say, “The good kind God
That made the world made even us,
All in the scheme divine.”
And then they bark like foolish dogs,
And then they stand and whine.
Awhile I felt the imperial skyClothe a sole figure, which was I;Then, lonely for democracy,I hailed the purple robe of airKinship for all mankind to share;But now at last, with ashen hair,I learn it is not they nor IWho own the mantle of the sky,—Silence alone wears majesty.
Awhile I felt the imperial skyClothe a sole figure, which was I;Then, lonely for democracy,I hailed the purple robe of airKinship for all mankind to share;But now at last, with ashen hair,I learn it is not they nor IWho own the mantle of the sky,—Silence alone wears majesty.
Awhile I felt the imperial skyClothe a sole figure, which was I;Then, lonely for democracy,I hailed the purple robe of airKinship for all mankind to share;But now at last, with ashen hair,I learn it is not they nor IWho own the mantle of the sky,—Silence alone wears majesty.
Awhile I felt the imperial sky
Clothe a sole figure, which was I;
Then, lonely for democracy,
I hailed the purple robe of air
Kinship for all mankind to share;
But now at last, with ashen hair,
I learn it is not they nor I
Who own the mantle of the sky,—
Silence alone wears majesty.
Here shall come forth a flowerand near him ever grow.But his ear heeds me not,and my hot tears mean nothingto him who was dearer to methan Daphne, he whose clear eye,that dazed the sun, now droops near earth....O hyacinthine flower, grow here!Sweet were his lips as a flower touchingthe feet of a bee in Spring, his lipswould repeat the word, “Love, love,”all that was sweet in the world was reborn.Death could not defeat him,for his young lips, completing love, were eager.His youth shall ever be fleet, evading death....O hyacinthine flower, be sweet!
Here shall come forth a flowerand near him ever grow.But his ear heeds me not,and my hot tears mean nothingto him who was dearer to methan Daphne, he whose clear eye,that dazed the sun, now droops near earth....O hyacinthine flower, grow here!Sweet were his lips as a flower touchingthe feet of a bee in Spring, his lipswould repeat the word, “Love, love,”all that was sweet in the world was reborn.Death could not defeat him,for his young lips, completing love, were eager.His youth shall ever be fleet, evading death....O hyacinthine flower, be sweet!
Here shall come forth a flowerand near him ever grow.But his ear heeds me not,and my hot tears mean nothingto him who was dearer to methan Daphne, he whose clear eye,that dazed the sun, now droops near earth....O hyacinthine flower, grow here!
Here shall come forth a flower
and near him ever grow.
But his ear heeds me not,
and my hot tears mean nothing
to him who was dearer to me
than Daphne, he whose clear eye,
that dazed the sun, now droops near earth....
O hyacinthine flower, grow here!
Sweet were his lips as a flower touchingthe feet of a bee in Spring, his lipswould repeat the word, “Love, love,”all that was sweet in the world was reborn.Death could not defeat him,for his young lips, completing love, were eager.His youth shall ever be fleet, evading death....O hyacinthine flower, be sweet!
Sweet were his lips as a flower touching
the feet of a bee in Spring, his lips
would repeat the word, “Love, love,”
all that was sweet in the world was reborn.
Death could not defeat him,
for his young lips, completing love, were eager.
His youth shall ever be fleet, evading death....
O hyacinthine flower, be sweet!