Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/192

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Until at last comes twilight glimmer,Voices, faces, motions dimmer,Breath as lowAs the all covering snow,Even the evening and the morning laidCheek to cheek, will fade,Radiance and sound made one,And quieted and blended into none.
The MeasureGenevieve Taggard


WILD PLUM
They are unholy who are born To love wild plum at night,Who once have passed it on a road Glimmering and white.
It is as though darkness had Speech of silver words,Or as though a cloud of stars Perched like ghostly birds.
They are unpitied from their birth And homeless in men's sight,Who love better than the earth Wild plum at night.
The New York TribuneAdul Tima


THE DARK CUP
I
May
A delicate fabric of bird-song Floats in the air,The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere.

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