Grace Fallow Norton
A gleam of gold in gloom and gray,A call from out a fairer day.O pang at heart and ebbing blood!(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood,Stern woman of the Brotherhood.)Clamor of golden tones and tunes,Hunt of faint horns, breath of bassoons;They wound my soul again; I lieFace earthward in fresh agony.Oh, give me joy before I die!World, world, I could have danced for thee,And I had tales and minstrelsy;Kept fairer, I had been more good.(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood,Soul of the breadless Brotherhood.)Some thou hast formed to play thy part,The bold, the cold, the hard of heart.Thy rue upon my lips I toss.Rose was my right. O world, the loss,When Greek limbs writhe upon the cross!
A gleam of gold in gloom and gray,A call from out a fairer day.O pang at heart and ebbing blood!(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood,Stern woman of the Brotherhood.)Clamor of golden tones and tunes,Hunt of faint horns, breath of bassoons;They wound my soul again; I lieFace earthward in fresh agony.Oh, give me joy before I die!World, world, I could have danced for thee,And I had tales and minstrelsy;Kept fairer, I had been more good.(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood,Soul of the breadless Brotherhood.)Some thou hast formed to play thy part,The bold, the cold, the hard of heart.Thy rue upon my lips I toss.Rose was my right. O world, the loss,When Greek limbs writhe upon the cross!
A gleam of gold in gloom and gray,A call from out a fairer day.O pang at heart and ebbing blood!(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood,Stern woman of the Brotherhood.)
A gleam of gold in gloom and gray,
A call from out a fairer day.
O pang at heart and ebbing blood!
(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood,
Stern woman of the Brotherhood.)
Clamor of golden tones and tunes,Hunt of faint horns, breath of bassoons;They wound my soul again; I lieFace earthward in fresh agony.Oh, give me joy before I die!
Clamor of golden tones and tunes,
Hunt of faint horns, breath of bassoons;
They wound my soul again; I lie
Face earthward in fresh agony.
Oh, give me joy before I die!
World, world, I could have danced for thee,And I had tales and minstrelsy;Kept fairer, I had been more good.(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood,Soul of the breadless Brotherhood.)
World, world, I could have danced for thee,
And I had tales and minstrelsy;
Kept fairer, I had been more good.
(Hush, bread and salt should be thy mood,
Soul of the breadless Brotherhood.)
Some thou hast formed to play thy part,The bold, the cold, the hard of heart.Thy rue upon my lips I toss.Rose was my right. O world, the loss,When Greek limbs writhe upon the cross!
Some thou hast formed to play thy part,
The bold, the cold, the hard of heart.
Thy rue upon my lips I toss.
Rose was my right. O world, the loss,
When Greek limbs writhe upon the cross!
MAKE NO VOWS
I made a vow once, one only.I was young and I was lonely.When I grew strong I said: “This vowIs too narrow for me now.Who am I to be bound by old oaths?I will change them as I change my clothes!”But that ancient outworn vowWas like fetters upon me now.It was hard to break, hard to break;Hard to shake from me, hard to shake.I broke it by day, but it closed upon me at night.He is not free who is free only in the sun-light.He is not free who bears fetters in his dreams,Nor he who laughs only by dark dream-fed streams.Oh, it costs much bright coin of strength to live!Watch, then, where all your strength you give!For I, who would be so wild and wondrous now,Must give, give, to break a burdening bitter vow.
I made a vow once, one only.I was young and I was lonely.When I grew strong I said: “This vowIs too narrow for me now.Who am I to be bound by old oaths?I will change them as I change my clothes!”But that ancient outworn vowWas like fetters upon me now.It was hard to break, hard to break;Hard to shake from me, hard to shake.I broke it by day, but it closed upon me at night.He is not free who is free only in the sun-light.He is not free who bears fetters in his dreams,Nor he who laughs only by dark dream-fed streams.Oh, it costs much bright coin of strength to live!Watch, then, where all your strength you give!For I, who would be so wild and wondrous now,Must give, give, to break a burdening bitter vow.
I made a vow once, one only.I was young and I was lonely.When I grew strong I said: “This vowIs too narrow for me now.Who am I to be bound by old oaths?I will change them as I change my clothes!”
I made a vow once, one only.
I was young and I was lonely.
When I grew strong I said: “This vow
Is too narrow for me now.
Who am I to be bound by old oaths?
I will change them as I change my clothes!”
But that ancient outworn vowWas like fetters upon me now.It was hard to break, hard to break;Hard to shake from me, hard to shake.
But that ancient outworn vow
Was like fetters upon me now.
It was hard to break, hard to break;
Hard to shake from me, hard to shake.
I broke it by day, but it closed upon me at night.He is not free who is free only in the sun-light.He is not free who bears fetters in his dreams,Nor he who laughs only by dark dream-fed streams.
I broke it by day, but it closed upon me at night.
He is not free who is free only in the sun-light.
He is not free who bears fetters in his dreams,
Nor he who laughs only by dark dream-fed streams.
Oh, it costs much bright coin of strength to live!Watch, then, where all your strength you give!For I, who would be so wild and wondrous now,Must give, give, to break a burdening bitter vow.
Oh, it costs much bright coin of strength to live!
Watch, then, where all your strength you give!
For I, who would be so wild and wondrous now,
Must give, give, to break a burdening bitter vow.
There’s one that I once loved so muchI am no more the same.I give thanks for that transforming touch.I tell you not his name.He has become a sign to meFor flowers and for fire.For song he is a sign to meAnd for the broken lyre.And I have known him in a bookAnd never touched his hand.And he is dead—I need not lookFor him through his green land.Heaven may not be. I have no faith,But this desire I have—To take my soul on my last breath,To lift it like a wave,And surge unto his star and say,His friendship had been heaven;And pray, for clouds that closed his dayMay light at last be given!And say, he shone at noon so brightI learned to run and rejoice!And beg him for one last delight—The true sound of his voice.There’s one that once moved me so muchI am no more the same;And I pray I too, I too, may touchSome heart with singing flame.
There’s one that I once loved so muchI am no more the same.I give thanks for that transforming touch.I tell you not his name.He has become a sign to meFor flowers and for fire.For song he is a sign to meAnd for the broken lyre.And I have known him in a bookAnd never touched his hand.And he is dead—I need not lookFor him through his green land.Heaven may not be. I have no faith,But this desire I have—To take my soul on my last breath,To lift it like a wave,And surge unto his star and say,His friendship had been heaven;And pray, for clouds that closed his dayMay light at last be given!And say, he shone at noon so brightI learned to run and rejoice!And beg him for one last delight—The true sound of his voice.There’s one that once moved me so muchI am no more the same;And I pray I too, I too, may touchSome heart with singing flame.
There’s one that I once loved so muchI am no more the same.I give thanks for that transforming touch.I tell you not his name.
There’s one that I once loved so much
I am no more the same.
I give thanks for that transforming touch.
I tell you not his name.
He has become a sign to meFor flowers and for fire.For song he is a sign to meAnd for the broken lyre.
He has become a sign to me
For flowers and for fire.
For song he is a sign to me
And for the broken lyre.
And I have known him in a bookAnd never touched his hand.And he is dead—I need not lookFor him through his green land.
And I have known him in a book
And never touched his hand.
And he is dead—I need not look
For him through his green land.
Heaven may not be. I have no faith,But this desire I have—To take my soul on my last breath,To lift it like a wave,
Heaven may not be. I have no faith,
But this desire I have—
To take my soul on my last breath,
To lift it like a wave,
And surge unto his star and say,His friendship had been heaven;And pray, for clouds that closed his dayMay light at last be given!
And surge unto his star and say,
His friendship had been heaven;
And pray, for clouds that closed his day
May light at last be given!
And say, he shone at noon so brightI learned to run and rejoice!And beg him for one last delight—The true sound of his voice.
And say, he shone at noon so bright
I learned to run and rejoice!
And beg him for one last delight—
The true sound of his voice.
There’s one that once moved me so muchI am no more the same;And I pray I too, I too, may touchSome heart with singing flame.
There’s one that once moved me so much
I am no more the same;
And I pray I too, I too, may touch
Some heart with singing flame.