Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/88

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II
My needle says: Don't be young, Holding visions in your eyes,Tasting laughter on your tongue!— Be very old and very wise,And sew a good seam up and downIn white cloth, red cloth, blue and brown.
My needle says: What is youth But eyes drunken with the sun,Seeing farther than the truth; Lips that call, hands that shunThe many seams they have to doIn white cloth, red cloth, brown and blue!
III
One by one, one by one,Stitches of the hours run Through the fine seams of the day;Till like a garment it is done And laid away.
One by one the days go by,And suns climb up and down the sky; One by one their seams are run—As Time's untiring fingers ply And life is done.
COWARDICE
Discomfort sweeps my quiet, as a windLeaps at trees and leaves them cold and thinned.Not that I fear again the masteryOf winds, for holding my indifference dearI do not feel illusions stripped from me.And yet this is a fear—

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