Edith Wyatt

In the Santa Clara Valley, far away and far away,Cool-breathed waters dip and dally, linger towards another day—Far and far away—far away.Slow their floating step, but tireless, terraced down the great Plateau.Towards our ways of steam and wireless, silver-paced the brookbeds go.Past the ladder-walled Pueblos, past the orchards, pear and quince,Where the back-locked river’s ebb flows, miles and miles the valley glints,Shining backwards, singing downwards, towards horizons blue and bay.All the roofs the roads ensconce so dream of visions far away—Santa Cruz and Ildefonso, Santa Clara, Santa Fé.Ancient, sacred fears and faiths, ancient, sacred faiths and fears—Some were real, some were wraiths—Indian, Franciscan years,Built the Khivas, swung the bells; while the wind sang plain and free,“Turn your eyes from visioned hells!—look as far as you can see!”In the Santa Clara Valley, far away and far away,Dying dreams divide and dally, crystal-terraced waters sally—Linger towards another day, far and far away—far away.As you follow where you find them, up along the high Plateau,In the hollows left behind them Spanish chapels fade below—Shaded court and low corrals. In the vale the goat-herd browses.Hollyhocks are seneschals by the little buff-walled houses.Over grassy swale and alley have you ever seen it so—Up the Santa Clara Valley, riding on the Great Plateau?Past the ladder-walled Pueblos, past the orchards, pear and quince,Where the trenchèd waters’ ebb flows, miles and miles the valley glints,Shining backwards, singing downwards towards horizons blue and bay.All the haunts the bluffs ensconce so breathe of visions far away,As you ride near Ildefonso back again to Santa Fé.Pecos, mellow with the years, tall-walled Taos—who can knowHalf the storied faiths and fears haunting green New Mexico?Only from her open places down arroyos blue and bay,One wild grace of many graces dallies towards another day.Where her yellow tufa crumbles, something stars and grasses know,Something true, that crowns and humbles, shimmers from the Great Plateau:Blows where cool-paced waters dally from the stillness of Puyé,Down the Santa Clara Valley through the world from far away—Far and far away—far away.

In the Santa Clara Valley, far away and far away,

Cool-breathed waters dip and dally, linger towards another day—

Far and far away—far away.

Slow their floating step, but tireless, terraced down the great Plateau.

Towards our ways of steam and wireless, silver-paced the brookbeds go.

Past the ladder-walled Pueblos, past the orchards, pear and quince,

Where the back-locked river’s ebb flows, miles and miles the valley glints,

Shining backwards, singing downwards, towards horizons blue and bay.

All the roofs the roads ensconce so dream of visions far away—

Santa Cruz and Ildefonso, Santa Clara, Santa Fé.

Ancient, sacred fears and faiths, ancient, sacred faiths and fears—

Some were real, some were wraiths—Indian, Franciscan years,

Built the Khivas, swung the bells; while the wind sang plain and free,

“Turn your eyes from visioned hells!—look as far as you can see!”

In the Santa Clara Valley, far away and far away,

Dying dreams divide and dally, crystal-terraced waters sally—

Linger towards another day, far and far away—far away.

As you follow where you find them, up along the high Plateau,In the hollows left behind them Spanish chapels fade below—Shaded court and low corrals. In the vale the goat-herd browses.Hollyhocks are seneschals by the little buff-walled houses.Over grassy swale and alley have you ever seen it so—Up the Santa Clara Valley, riding on the Great Plateau?Past the ladder-walled Pueblos, past the orchards, pear and quince,Where the trenchèd waters’ ebb flows, miles and miles the valley glints,Shining backwards, singing downwards towards horizons blue and bay.All the haunts the bluffs ensconce so breathe of visions far away,As you ride near Ildefonso back again to Santa Fé.Pecos, mellow with the years, tall-walled Taos—who can knowHalf the storied faiths and fears haunting green New Mexico?Only from her open places down arroyos blue and bay,One wild grace of many graces dallies towards another day.Where her yellow tufa crumbles, something stars and grasses know,Something true, that crowns and humbles, shimmers from the Great Plateau:Blows where cool-paced waters dally from the stillness of Puyé,Down the Santa Clara Valley through the world from far away—Far and far away—far away.

As you follow where you find them, up along the high Plateau,

In the hollows left behind them Spanish chapels fade below—

Shaded court and low corrals. In the vale the goat-herd browses.

Hollyhocks are seneschals by the little buff-walled houses.

Over grassy swale and alley have you ever seen it so—

Up the Santa Clara Valley, riding on the Great Plateau?

Past the ladder-walled Pueblos, past the orchards, pear and quince,

Where the trenchèd waters’ ebb flows, miles and miles the valley glints,

Shining backwards, singing downwards towards horizons blue and bay.

All the haunts the bluffs ensconce so breathe of visions far away,

As you ride near Ildefonso back again to Santa Fé.

Pecos, mellow with the years, tall-walled Taos—who can know

Half the storied faiths and fears haunting green New Mexico?

Only from her open places down arroyos blue and bay,

One wild grace of many graces dallies towards another day.

Where her yellow tufa crumbles, something stars and grasses know,

Something true, that crowns and humbles, shimmers from the Great Plateau:

Blows where cool-paced waters dally from the stillness of Puyé,

Down the Santa Clara Valley through the world from far away—

Far and far away—far away.

Once the heavens’ gabled doorOpened: down a stabled floor,Down the thunders, something galloped far and wide,Glancing far and fleetDown the silver street—And I knew of nothing, nothing else beside.Pitty patty polt—Shoe the wild colt!Here a nail! There a nail!Pitty patty polt!Good and badness, die away.Strength and swiftness down the day,Dapple happy down my glancing silver street!Oh, the touch of summer cold!—Beauty swinging quick and bold,Dipping, dappling where the distant roof-tops meet!Pitty patty polt—Shoe the wild colt!Listen, dusty care:Through a magic air,Once I watched the way of perfect splendor ride,Swishing far and gray,Buoyant and gay—And I knew of nothing, nothing else beside.Good and badness, go your ways,Vanish far and fleet.Strength and swiftness run my days,Down my silver street.Little care, forevermoreBe you lesser than before.Mighty frozen rain,Come! oh, come again!Let the heavens’ door be rendedWith the touch of summer cold—Dappling hoof-beats clatter splendid,Infinitely gay and bold!Pitty patty polt—Shoe the wild colt!Here a nail and there a nail!Pitty patty polt!Once the heavens’ gabled doorOpened: down the stabled floor,Down the thunders something galloped wide and far;Something dappled far and fleet,Glancing down my silver street,And I saw the ways of life just as they are.Pitty patty polt—Shoe the wild colt!Here a nail! There a nail!Pitty patty polt!

Once the heavens’ gabled door

Opened: down a stabled floor,

Down the thunders, something galloped far and wide,

Glancing far and fleet

Down the silver street—

And I knew of nothing, nothing else beside.

Pitty patty polt—

Shoe the wild colt!

Here a nail! There a nail!

Pitty patty polt!

Good and badness, die away.Strength and swiftness down the day,Dapple happy down my glancing silver street!Oh, the touch of summer cold!—Beauty swinging quick and bold,Dipping, dappling where the distant roof-tops meet!Pitty patty polt—Shoe the wild colt!

Good and badness, die away.

Strength and swiftness down the day,

Dapple happy down my glancing silver street!

Oh, the touch of summer cold!—

Beauty swinging quick and bold,

Dipping, dappling where the distant roof-tops meet!

Pitty patty polt—

Shoe the wild colt!

Listen, dusty care:Through a magic air,Once I watched the way of perfect splendor ride,Swishing far and gray,Buoyant and gay—And I knew of nothing, nothing else beside.Good and badness, go your ways,Vanish far and fleet.Strength and swiftness run my days,Down my silver street.Little care, forevermoreBe you lesser than before.Mighty frozen rain,Come! oh, come again!Let the heavens’ door be rendedWith the touch of summer cold—Dappling hoof-beats clatter splendid,Infinitely gay and bold!Pitty patty polt—Shoe the wild colt!Here a nail and there a nail!Pitty patty polt!

Listen, dusty care:

Through a magic air,

Once I watched the way of perfect splendor ride,

Swishing far and gray,

Buoyant and gay—

And I knew of nothing, nothing else beside.

Good and badness, go your ways,

Vanish far and fleet.

Strength and swiftness run my days,

Down my silver street.

Little care, forevermore

Be you lesser than before.

Mighty frozen rain,

Come! oh, come again!

Let the heavens’ door be rended

With the touch of summer cold—

Dappling hoof-beats clatter splendid,

Infinitely gay and bold!

Pitty patty polt—

Shoe the wild colt!

Here a nail and there a nail!

Pitty patty polt!

Once the heavens’ gabled doorOpened: down the stabled floor,Down the thunders something galloped wide and far;Something dappled far and fleet,Glancing down my silver street,And I saw the ways of life just as they are.Pitty patty polt—Shoe the wild colt!Here a nail! There a nail!Pitty patty polt!

Once the heavens’ gabled door

Opened: down the stabled floor,

Down the thunders something galloped wide and far;

Something dappled far and fleet,

Glancing down my silver street,

And I saw the ways of life just as they are.

Pitty patty polt—

Shoe the wild colt!

Here a nail! There a nail!

Pitty patty polt!

You are my companionDown the silver road,Still and many-changing,Infinitely changing.You are my companion.Something sings in lives—Days of walking on and on,Deep beyond all singing,Wonderful past singing.Wonderful our road,Long and many-changing,Infinitely changing.This, more wonderful—We are here together,You and I together,I am your companion;You are my companion,My own, true companion.Let the road-side fade:Morning on the mountain-top,Hours along the valley,Days of walking on and on,Pulse away in silence,In eternal silence.Let the world all fade,Break and pass away.Yet will this remain,Deep beyond all singing,My own true companion,Beautiful past singing:We were here together—On this earth together;I was your companion,You were my companion,My own true companion.

You are my companion

Down the silver road,

Still and many-changing,

Infinitely changing.

You are my companion.

Something sings in lives—

Days of walking on and on,

Deep beyond all singing,

Wonderful past singing.

Wonderful our road,Long and many-changing,Infinitely changing.This, more wonderful—We are here together,You and I together,I am your companion;You are my companion,My own, true companion.

Wonderful our road,

Long and many-changing,

Infinitely changing.

This, more wonderful—

We are here together,

You and I together,

I am your companion;

You are my companion,

My own, true companion.

Let the road-side fade:Morning on the mountain-top,Hours along the valley,Days of walking on and on,Pulse away in silence,In eternal silence.Let the world all fade,Break and pass away.Yet will this remain,Deep beyond all singing,My own true companion,Beautiful past singing:We were here together—On this earth together;I was your companion,You were my companion,My own true companion.

Let the road-side fade:

Morning on the mountain-top,

Hours along the valley,

Days of walking on and on,

Pulse away in silence,

In eternal silence.

Let the world all fade,

Break and pass away.

Yet will this remain,

Deep beyond all singing,

My own true companion,

Beautiful past singing:

We were here together—

On this earth together;

I was your companion,

You were my companion,

My own true companion.

A CITY AFTERNOON

Green afternoon serene and bright, along my street you sail awaySun-dappled like a ship of light that glints upon a rippled bay.Afar, freight-engines call and toll; the sprays flash on the fragrant grass;The children and the nurses stroll; the charging motors plunge and pass.Invisibly the shadows grow, empurpling in a rising tideThe walks where light-gowned women go, white curb, gray asphalt iris-dyed.A jolting trolley shrills afar; nasturtiums blow, and ivy vines;Wet scents of turf and black-smoothed tar float down the rooftrees’ vergent lines.Where will you go, my afternoon, that glints so still and swift away,Blue-shaded like a ship of light bound outward from a wimpled bay?Oh—thrilling, pulsing, dark and bright, shall you, your work, your pain, your mirth,Fly into the immortal night and silence of our mother earth?She bore all Eden’s green and dew, and Persia’s scented wine and rose,And, flowering white against the blue, acanthus leaf and marbled pose.And deep the Maenad’s choric dance, Crusader’s cross, and heathen crestLie sunk with rose and song and lance all veiled and vanished in her breast.And all those afternoons once danced and sparkled in the sapphire lightAnd iris shade as you have glanced, green afternoon, in vibrant flight.As, down dim vistas, echoing, dead afternoons entreat our days,What breath of beauty will you sing to souls unseen and unknown ways?How close and how unanswering, green afternoon, you pulse away,So little and so great a thing—deep towards the bourne of every day.

Green afternoon serene and bright, along my street you sail away

Sun-dappled like a ship of light that glints upon a rippled bay.

Afar, freight-engines call and toll; the sprays flash on the fragrant grass;

The children and the nurses stroll; the charging motors plunge and pass.

Invisibly the shadows grow, empurpling in a rising tide

The walks where light-gowned women go, white curb, gray asphalt iris-dyed.

A jolting trolley shrills afar; nasturtiums blow, and ivy vines;

Wet scents of turf and black-smoothed tar float down the rooftrees’ vergent lines.

Where will you go, my afternoon, that glints so still and swift away,

Blue-shaded like a ship of light bound outward from a wimpled bay?

Oh—thrilling, pulsing, dark and bright, shall you, your work, your pain, your mirth,

Fly into the immortal night and silence of our mother earth?

She bore all Eden’s green and dew, and Persia’s scented wine and rose,

And, flowering white against the blue, acanthus leaf and marbled pose.

And deep the Maenad’s choric dance, Crusader’s cross, and heathen crest

Lie sunk with rose and song and lance all veiled and vanished in her breast.

And all those afternoons once danced and sparkled in the sapphire lightAnd iris shade as you have glanced, green afternoon, in vibrant flight.As, down dim vistas, echoing, dead afternoons entreat our days,What breath of beauty will you sing to souls unseen and unknown ways?How close and how unanswering, green afternoon, you pulse away,So little and so great a thing—deep towards the bourne of every day.

And all those afternoons once danced and sparkled in the sapphire light

And iris shade as you have glanced, green afternoon, in vibrant flight.

As, down dim vistas, echoing, dead afternoons entreat our days,

What breath of beauty will you sing to souls unseen and unknown ways?

How close and how unanswering, green afternoon, you pulse away,

So little and so great a thing—deep towards the bourne of every day.

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