Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/25

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COLLECTED POEMS

As upward through her dream he fares,
Half clouded with a crimson fall
Of roses thrown on marble stairs.


THE CLINGING VINE

"Be calm? And was I frantic? You'll have me laughing soon. I'm calm as this Atlantic, And quiet as the moon; I may have spoken faster Than once, in other days; For I've no more a master, And now—'Be calm,' he says.
"Fear not, fear no commotion,—I'll be as rocks and sand; The moon and stars and ocean Will envy my command; No creature could be stiller In any kind of place Than I . . . No, I'll not kill her; Her death is in her face.
"Be happy while she has it, For she'll not have it long; A year, and then you'll pass it, Preparing a new song. And I'm a fool for prating Of what a year may bring, When more like her are waiting For more like you to sing.
"You mock me with denial, You mean to call me hard?

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