Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/215

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THE GOLDEN FLEECE
I know that life is Jason,And that beauty is the witch-maiden helping him.I know that the soft, luminous night of starsIs the golden fleece he is seeking.I know that in the beginningHe sowed the boulders, the teeth of dead ages,And the innumerable armored cities have arisen.I know that he has thrown among them love and desire,And they have warred and shall war with each other until the end.And if you doubt the least word I have said,Come out on the dark beach some strange summer nightAnd watch the huge quivering serpent of the oceanStill coiled around the trunk of the tree of paradise.
Poetry, A Magazine of VerseOscar Williams


CANOPUS
Up from the smooth dust of the road they turned.The shivery spider cables spread a netAcross the climbing path that teased and burnedTheir faces, which the dew-sprayed leaves left wet;Defenseless cheeks were clawed by trespassing brambleAnd vagabonding sumach, Their fingers met,Anchors to steady each unsteady scramble.
Their nervous feet struck stones, that toppled overThe terraced outcrop, and, at last let loose,Clattered to rest against stray tufts of clover.Boughs broke off in their grasp, and were no use,And underneath the brittle twigs snapped shrill.At length the firmer sassafras and spruceGave hand-holds as they met the steeper hill.

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