Songs from Vagabondia/Evening on the Potomac
EVENING ON THE POTOMAC.
The fervid breath of our flushed Southern MayIs sweet upon the city’s throat and lips,As a lover’s whose tired arm slipsListlessly over the shoulder of a queen.
Far awayThe river melts in the unseen.Oh, beautiful Girl-City, how she dipsHer feet in the streamWith a touch that is half a kiss and half a dream!Her face is very fair,With flowers for smiles and sunlight in her hair.
My westland flower-town, how serene she is!Here on this hill from which I look at her,All is still as if a worshipperLeft at some shrine his offering.
Soft winds kissMy cheek with a slow lingering.A luring whisper where the laurels stirWiles my heart back to woodland-ward again.
But lo,Across the sky the sunset couriers run,And I remainTo watch the imperial pageant of the SunMock me, an impotent Cortez here below,With splendors of its vaster Mexico.
O Eldorado of the templed clouds!O golden city of the western sky!Not like the Spaniard would I storm thy gates;Not like the babe stretch chubby hands and cry To have thee for a toy; but far from crowds,Like my Faun brother in the ferny glen,Peer from the wood’s edge while thy glory waits,And in the darkening thickets plunge again.