Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1921/The Cobbler in the Moon
THE COBBLER IN THE MOON
I
Cobbler, cease your stitching! Put down your awl!I've long been waiting Before your stall.
Cobbler, cease your pegging! Who pays your wage?And whose the ugly, Dry shoes of Age?
I have shoes for mending; A patch or twoWill make them nearly As good as new,
Mine too worn for patching? It cannot beThe shoes just finished Were made for me?
II
Time went dancing down the road Yesterday;It was sweet to watch Time dance On her way.
Not one sigh was in my heart! How could IKnow that when to-morrow came I should cry?
III
Joy came winging down to me, A brown, song-throated bird,But on a honeyed tree's dark branch A scarlet note was heard.
Joy was singing, soft and low, A tender little lay,But, oh, my ears were deafened by The scarlet note that day!
IV
Once I cried a little cry, Nor wiped the tears away;And bitter was the taste of them The long, long day.
Oh, but that was long ago! To-day I sit apartAnd smile and watch young laughter run About my heart!
V
I cannot bear to hear the grasses sing! Their tiny fingers press the notes of griefWhere apple blossoms pinkly sway and swing And nod to each uncurling, greening leaf.
I cannot bear to hear the grasses sing! Nor watch them tiptoe on the sun-sweet ground,For, oh, I know how their small hands will cling Upon the earth that is my body's mound!
VI
If I am quiet, when the twilight comes, My dead love I will see;Like breathless whisper in a lilac bloom My love will come to me.
If I am quiet, all the lapis night, My love will be my guest;But, oh, that she may never touch my hand Nor lean against my breast!
VII
My feet are shod in golden shoes, That glimmer in the sun,With lacings made of sweet delight And laughter's fun.
The soles so studded are with nails That press up, prick and pry,I can but sit still in a chair And softly cry!
The ConservativeWinifred Virginia Jackson