Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/39

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WHOLESOME HELL
If praying to the saints could comfort,  Bribing with candle or with vow,They might ensconce my soul in some fort  More sure and safe than I know now.
To kneel before a tawdry altar,  Propitiate a wooden Christ—If this could strengthen hopes that falter,  My pride were fitly sacrificed.
But heathen god and Roman martyr  And Calvin's Trinity as wellHave wholly forfeited their charter.—  I yearn at times for wholesome hell.
Contemporary VerseGamaliel Bradford


WARNING
Ask me nothing now, my dear—The stars are all too large and near;At dusk the peepers in the poolMake my pulses play the fool;Robins with morning winds awakeAnd in my spirit barriers break;The willows are too golden green,The grasses are too young and clean,The little brooks too loud and swift;Too red a crest the maples lift.The heart of life beats high and glad—Can we keep wise when earth goes mad?Do not ask me anythingLest misfortune fall.I am in love with Love and SpringAnd not with you at all!
The OutlookAmelia Josephine Burr

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