Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/167

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
Danced with their nimble feet across the skyTo the running-water music of your flute . . .And how, with twinkling heels they scurried offBefore the Northern Light swaying, twisting,Spiralling like a slender silver smokeOn the thin blue winds, and feeling out amongThe frightened starry children of the sky . . .
  "Look! . . . in de Land-of-Winter . . . somet'ing's dere! . . .  Somebody—he's reaching out hees hand! . . . for me! . . .  Ain't? . . . For me he's waiting . . . Somebody's dere! . . .  Somebody he's dere, waiting . . . waiting . . ."
Don't you remember?—the ghostly silence, splinteredAt last by a fist that cracked the hoary birch,By a swift black fist that shattered the brittle air,Splitting it into a million frosty fragments . . .And dreary Northwind, coughing in the snow,Spitting among the glistening sheeted pines,And moaning on the barrens among the bonesOf gaunt white tamaracks mournful and forlorn . . .
  Sh-sh-sh-sh! . . . My Caribou! . . . Somebody's dere! . . .  He's crying . . . little bit crazy in dose wind . . .  Ain't? . . . You heard-um? . . . far'way . . . crying  Lak my old woman w'en she's lose de baby  And no can find-um—w'en she's running everyw'ere,  Falling in snow, talking little bit crazy,  Calling and crying for shees little boy . . .  Sh-sh-sh-sh! . . . Somet'ing's dere . . . you hear-um? . . . ain't? . . .  Somebody—somebody's dere, crying . . . crying . . .

152

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.