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Sonnets - Edna St. Vincent Millay · Friedrich Nietzsche Philosophy Collection

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  Speaker 1: Section one of sonnets by Edna Saint Vincent Malay. This
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  Speaker 1: is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the
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  Speaker 1: public domain. For more information or the volunteer, please visit
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  Speaker 1: LibriVox dot org. Read by Thomas Copeland. Five sonnets from
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  Speaker 1: a Few Figs from Thistles, nineteen twenty one. One love
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  Speaker 1: though for this you riddle me with darts and drag
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  Speaker 1: me at your chariot till I die, Oh heavy prince,
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  Speaker 1: oh panderer of hearts. Yet hear me tell you how
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  Speaker 1: in their throats they lie. Who shout you mighty think
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  Speaker 1: about my hair day in day out, your ominous arrows purr?
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  Speaker 1: Who still am free under no querulous care, A fool
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  Speaker 1: and in no temple worshiper I that have bared me
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  Speaker 1: to your quiver's fire, lifted my face into is puly rain.
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  Speaker 1: Do wreathe you impotent to evoke desire, as you are
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  Speaker 1: powerless to illicit pain. Now will the God for blasphemy
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  Speaker 1: so brave punish me surely with the shaft I crave. Two.
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  Speaker 1: I think I should have loved you presently and given
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  Speaker 1: in earnest words I've flung in chest and lifted honest
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  Speaker 1: eyes for you to see, and caught your hand against
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  Speaker 1: my cheek and breast, and all my pretty follies flung
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  Speaker 1: aside that won you to me, And beneath your gaze,
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  Speaker 1: naked of reticence and shore of pride spread like a chart,
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  Speaker 1: my little wicked ways I that had been to you,
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  Speaker 1: Had you remained but one more, waking from a recurrent dream,
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  Speaker 1: cherish no less the certain stakes I gain'd, and walk
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  Speaker 1: Your memories halls are deer supreme, a ghost and marble
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  Speaker 1: of a girl you knew, who would have loved you
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  Speaker 1: in a day or two three. Oh, think not, I
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  Speaker 1: am faithful to a vow. Faithless am I save to
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  Speaker 1: love self alone? Were you not lovely, I would leave
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  Speaker 1: you now, after the feet of beauty fly my own.
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  Speaker 1: Were you not still my hunger's rarest food and water,
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  Speaker 1: ever to my wildest thirst, I would desert you. Think
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  Speaker 1: not what I would, and seek another as I sought
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  Speaker 1: you first. But you are mobile as the veering air,
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  Speaker 1: and all your charms more changeful than the tide. Wherefore
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  Speaker 1: to be inconstant is no care I have but to
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  Speaker 1: continue at your side, So want and light and false,
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  Speaker 1: my lover, you I am most faithless, when I most
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  Speaker 1: un true. For I shall forget you presently, my dear.
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  Speaker 1: So make the most of this your little day, your
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  Speaker 1: little month, your little half a year. Ere I forget,
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  Speaker 1: or die, or move away, and we are done for
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  Speaker 1: ever By and by I shall forget you, as I said.
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  Speaker 1: But now, if you entreat me with your loveliest lie,
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  Speaker 1: I will protest you with my favorite vow. I would
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  Speaker 1: indeed that love were longer lived, and oaths were not
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  Speaker 1: so brittle as they are. But so it is, and
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  Speaker 1: nature has contrived to struggle on without a break thus far.
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  Speaker 1: Whether or not we find what we are seeking is
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  Speaker 1: idle biologically speaking. And of Section one of poems by
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  Speaker 1: Edna Saint Vincent Malay, Section two of sonnets by Edna
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  Speaker 1: Saint Vincent Malay. This LibriVox according is in the public domain.
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  Speaker 1: Read by Thomas Copeland Sonnets from second April nineteen twenty three. One.
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  Speaker 1: We talk of taxes, and I call you friend, well
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  Speaker 1: such you are, but well enough we know how thick
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  Speaker 1: about us root, how rankly grow though subtle weeds. No
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  Speaker 1: man has need to tend that flourish to neglect, and
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  Speaker 1: soon must send perfume to sweet upon us and overthrow
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  Speaker 1: our steady senses. How such matters go we are aware,
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  Speaker 1: And how such matters end yet shall be told. No
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  Speaker 1: meager passion here with lovers such as we forever more
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  Speaker 1: is Solder drinks the draft, and Guinevere receives the table's
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  Speaker 1: ruined through her door. Francesca, with the loud surf at
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  Speaker 1: her ear. Let's fall the colored book upon the floor.
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  Speaker 1: Two into the golden vessel of great song. Let us
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  Speaker 1: pour all our passion, breast to breast, Let other lovers
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  Speaker 1: lie in love and rest. Not we articulate so, but
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  Speaker 1: with the tongue of all the world, the churning blood,
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  Speaker 1: the long, shuddering quiet, the desperate hot palms pressed sharply
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  Speaker 1: together upon the escaping guest, the common soul unguarded and
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  Speaker 1: grown strong, longing alone as singer to the lute. Lets
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  Speaker 1: still on nettles in the open, sigh the minstrel, that
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  Speaker 1: in slumber is as mute as any man. And love
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  Speaker 1: be far and high, that else forsakes the topmost branch,
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  Speaker 1: a fruit bound on the ground by every passer. By three,
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  Speaker 1: not with libations, but with shouts and laughter, we drenched
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  Speaker 1: the altars of Love's sacred grove, shaking to earth green fruits. Impatient,
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  Speaker 1: after the launching of the colored mouths of love, Love's
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  Speaker 1: proper myrtle, and his mother's zone, we bound about our
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  Speaker 1: irreligious brows and fettered him with garlands of our own,
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  Speaker 1: and spread a banquet in his frugal house. Not yet
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  Speaker 1: the Goddess spoken, but I fear, though we should break
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  Speaker 1: our bodies in his flame, and pour our blood upon
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  Speaker 1: his altar. Here henceforward as a grove without a name,
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  Speaker 1: gesture to the shaggy goats of pan whence flee forever
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  Speaker 1: a woman and a man, four only until this cigarette
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  Speaker 1: is ended. A little moment at the end of all,
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  Speaker 1: while on the floor the quiet ashes fall, and in
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  Speaker 1: the firelight to a lance extended bizarrely with the jazzing
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  Speaker 1: music blended, the broken shadow dances on the wall. I
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  Speaker 1: will permit my memory to recall the vision of you,
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  Speaker 1: by all my dreams attended, and then adieu, farewell. The
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  Speaker 1: dream is done. Yours is a face of which I
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  Speaker 1: can forget, the color and the features every one, the
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  Speaker 1: words not ever, and the smiles not yet. But in
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  Speaker 1: your day, this moment is the sun upon a hill
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  Speaker 1: after the sun has set five once more into my
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  Speaker 1: arid days, like dew, like wind from an oasis, or
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  Speaker 1: the sound of cold, sweet water bubbling underground. A treacherous messenger,
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  Speaker 1: the thought of you comes to destroy me. Once more,
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  Speaker 1: I renew firm faith in your abundance, whom I found
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  Speaker 1: long since to be but just one other mound of sand,
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  Speaker 1: where no green thing ever grew. And once again, and
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  Speaker 1: wiser in no wise, I chase your colored phantom on
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  Speaker 1: the air, and sob and curse, and fall, and weep,
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  Speaker 1: and rise and stumble pitifully on to where, miserable and lost,
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  Speaker 1: with stinging eyes. Once more I clasp, and there is
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  Speaker 1: nothing there, sick, no rose that in a garden ever
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  Speaker 1: grew in Homer's, or in Omar's, or in mine, though
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  Speaker 1: buried under centuries of fine dead dust of roses, shut
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  Speaker 1: from sun and dew, forever and forever lost from view,
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  Speaker 1: but must again in fragrance, rich as wine, the gray
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  Speaker 1: isles of the air in Carnadine, when the old summers
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  Speaker 1: surge into anew. Thus, when I swear I love with
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  Speaker 1: all my heart, tis with the heart of Lilith. That
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  Speaker 1: I swear tis with the love of Lesbia and Lucrece.
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  Speaker 1: And thus as well my love must lose some part
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  Speaker 1: of what it is, had Helen been less fair, or
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  Speaker 1: perished young, or stayed at home in Greece. Seven, when
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  Speaker 1: I too long have looked upon your face, wherein for
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  Speaker 1: me a brightness, an obscured save, with the mists of
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  Speaker 1: brightness as its place, and a terrible beauty not to
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  Speaker 1: be endured, I turn away, reluctant from your light, and
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  Speaker 1: stand irresolute, a mind undone, a silly, dazzled thing, deprived
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  Speaker 1: of sight from having looked too long upon the sun.
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  Speaker 1: Then is my daily life a narrow room in which
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  Speaker 1: a little, while uncertainly surrounded by impenetrable gloom, among familiar
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  Speaker 1: things grown strange to me, making my way, I pause
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  Speaker 1: and feel and hark till I become accustomed to the dark. Eight,
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  Speaker 1: And you as well must die, beloved, dust and all
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  Speaker 1: your beauty, stand you in no stead. This flawless, vital hand,
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  Speaker 1: this perfect head, this body of flame and steel, before
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  Speaker 1: the gust of death or under his autumnal frost, shall
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  Speaker 1: be as any leaf be, no less dead than the
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  Speaker 1: first leaf that fell, This wonder fled, altared, estranged, disintegrated, lost,
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  Speaker 1: Nor shall my love avail you in that hour. In
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  Speaker 1: spite of all my love, you will arise upon that
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  Speaker 1: day and wander down the air, obscurely as the unattended flower,
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  Speaker 1: It mattering not how beautiful you were, or how beloved
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  Speaker 1: above all else that dies. Nine, Let you not say
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  Speaker 1: of me when I am old in pretty worship of
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  Speaker 1: my withered hands, forgetting who I am, and how the
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  Speaker 1: sands of such a life as mine run red and
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  Speaker 1: gold even to the ultimate sifting dust. Behold here walketh
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  Speaker 1: passionless age. For there expands a curious superstition in these lands,
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  Speaker 1: and by its leave some weightless tales are told in me.
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  Speaker 1: No lenten wicks. Watch out the night. I am the
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  Speaker 1: booth where folly holds her fair impious, no less in
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  Speaker 1: ruin than in strength. When I lie crumbled to the
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  Speaker 1: earth at length. Let you not say upon this reverent
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  Speaker 1: sight the righteous groaned and beat their breasts in prayer. Ten, Oh,
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  Speaker 1: my beloved, have you thought of this? How in the
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  Speaker 1: years to come, unscrupulous time, more cruel than death, will
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  Speaker 1: tear you from my kiss and make you old and
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  Speaker 1: leave me in my prime? How you and I, who
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  Speaker 1: scale together, Yet a little while the sweet immortal height,
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  Speaker 1: no pilgrim may remember or forget. As sure as the
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  Speaker 1: world turns, some granite knight shall lie awake and know
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  Speaker 1: the gracious flame gone out forever on the mutual stone,
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  Speaker 1: and call to mind that on the day you came,
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  Speaker 1: I was a child and you a hero grown. And
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  Speaker 1: the night pass and the strange morning break upon our
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  Speaker 1: anguish for each other's sake, eleven as to some lovely temple,
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  Speaker 1: tenantless long since that once was sweet with shivering brass,
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  Speaker 1: knowing well its altars ruined, and the grass grown up
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  Speaker 1: between the stones. Yet from excessive grief, hard driven o'er
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  Speaker 1: great loneliness, the worshiper returns, and those who pass marvel him,
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  Speaker 1: crying on a name that was so is it now
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  Speaker 1: with me in my distress, Your body was a temple
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  Speaker 1: to delight. Cold or its aes whence the breath is fled.
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  Speaker 1: Yet here one time your spirit was won to move.
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  Speaker 1: Here might I hope to find you day or night?
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  Speaker 1: And here I come to look for you, my love,
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  Speaker 1: even now, foolishly knowing you are dead, twell cherish you.
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  Speaker 1: Then the hope I shall forget at length my Lord Pieria,
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  Speaker 1: put away, for your so passing sake, this mouth of clay,
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  Speaker 1: these mortal bones against my body. Set for all the
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  Speaker 1: puny fever and frail sweat of human love. Renounce for these,
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  Speaker 1: I say the singing mountain's memory, and betray the silent
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  Speaker 1: liar that hangs upon me. Yet, But indeed, some day
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  Speaker 1: shall you awake rather from dreams of me that at
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  Speaker 1: your side so many knights, a lover and a bride,
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  Speaker 1: but stern in my soul's chastity, have lain to walk
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  Speaker 1: the world forever for my sake, and in each chamber
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  Speaker 1: find me gone again. And of section two, section three
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  Speaker 1: of Sonnets by Edna Saint Vincent Malay. This libervox according
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  Speaker 1: is in the public domain read by Thomas Copeland. One.
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  Speaker 1: When you, that at this moment are to me dearer
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  Speaker 1: than words on paper, shall depart and be no more
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  Speaker 1: the warder of my heart, whereof again myself shall hold
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  Speaker 1: the key and be no more What now you seem
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  Speaker 1: to be the sun from which all excellences start in
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  Speaker 1: a round nimbus, nor a broken dart of moonlight, even
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  Speaker 1: splintered on the sea. I shall remember only of this
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  Speaker 1: hour and weep somewhat as now you see me, weep
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  Speaker 1: the pathos of your love, That, like a flower, fearful
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  Speaker 1: of death, yet amorous of sleep, droops for a moment
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  Speaker 1: and beholds dismayed the wind, whereon its petals shall be laid. Two,
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  Speaker 1: that love at length should find me out and bring
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  Speaker 1: this fierce and trivial brower to the dust is after
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  Speaker 1: all I must confess. But just there is a subtle
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  Speaker 1: beauty in this thing, a wry perfection. Wherefore, now let's sing,
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  Speaker 1: all voices, how into my throat is thrust unwelcome as
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  Speaker 1: death's own love's bitter crust. All criers proclaim it, and
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  Speaker 1: all steeples ring. This being done, there let the matter rest.
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  Speaker 1: What more remains is neither here nor there that you
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  Speaker 1: requite me. Not is plain to see myself your slip
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  Speaker 1: herein have I confessed thus far? Indeed the world may
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  Speaker 1: mock at me, But if I suffer, it is my
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  Speaker 1: own affair. Three, love is not blind. I see with
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  Speaker 1: single eye your ugliness and other women's grace. I know
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  Speaker 1: the imperfection of your face, the eyes too wide apart,
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  Speaker 1: the brow too high for beauty. Learned from earliest youth,
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  Speaker 1: Ami in loveliness, and cannot so erase its letters from
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  Speaker 1: my mind that I may trace you faultless. I must
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  Speaker 1: love until I die. More subtle is the sovereignty of love.
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  Speaker 1: So am I cough that when I say not fair,
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  Speaker 1: tis but as if I said not here, not there,
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  Speaker 1: not risen, not writing letters. Well, I know what is
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  Speaker 1: this beauty man are babbling of I wonder only why
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  Speaker 1: they prize it. So Four I know I am, but
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  Speaker 1: summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons
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  Speaker 1: of the year. And you must welcome from another part
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  Speaker 1: such noble moods as are not mine, my dear, no
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  Speaker 1: gracious weight of golden fruits to sell have eye, nor
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  Speaker 1: any wise and wintry thing. And I have loved you
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  Speaker 1: all too long and well to carry still the high
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  Speaker 1: sweet breast of spring. Wherefore, I say, o love, as
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  Speaker 1: summer goes, I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums,
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  Speaker 1: that you may hail an the bird and rose when
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  Speaker 1: I come back to you as summer comes. Else will
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  Speaker 1: you seek, at some not distant time even your summer
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  Speaker 1: in another clime. Five. I pray you, if you love me,
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  Speaker 1: bear my joy a little while, or let me weep
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  Speaker 1: your tears. I too have seen the quavering fate destroy
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  Speaker 1: your destiny's bright, spinning the dull shears meeting not neatly
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  Speaker 1: chewing at the thread. Nor can you well be less
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  Speaker 1: aware how fine, how stanches wire, and how unwarranted endures
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  Speaker 1: the golden fortune that is mine. I pray you for
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  Speaker 1: this day, at least, my dear fair by my side,
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  Speaker 1: that journey in the sun. Else must I turn me
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  Speaker 1: from the blossoming year and walk in grief the way
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  Speaker 1: that you have gone. Let us go forth together to
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  Speaker 1: the spring. Love must be this, if it be anything six.
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  Speaker 1: Pity me not because the light day at close of
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  Speaker 1: day no longer walks the sky. Pity me not for
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  Speaker 1: beauties passed away from field and thicket as the year
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  Speaker 1: goes by. Pity me not the waning of the moon,
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  Speaker 1: nor that the ebbing tide goes out to sea, nor
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  Speaker 1: that a man's desire is hushed so soon and you
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  Speaker 1: no longer look with love on me. This have I
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  Speaker 1: known always. Love is no more than the white blossom
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  Speaker 1: which the wind assails, than the great tide that treads
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  Speaker 1: the shifting shore, strewing fresh wreckage gathered in the gales.
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  Speaker 1: Pity me that the heart is slow to learn what
• 20:43
  Speaker 1: the swift mind beholds at every turn. Seven Sometimes when
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  Speaker 1: I am wearied suddenly of all the things that are
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  Speaker 1: the outward you, and my gaze wanders ere your tail
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  Speaker 1: is through to webs of my own weaving. Or I
• 21:03
  Speaker 1: see abstractedly your hands about your knee, and wonder why
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  Speaker 1: I love you as I do. Then I recall yet sorrow,
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  Speaker 1: thus he drew. Then I consider pride thus painted he O, friend,
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  Speaker 1: forget not when you fain would note in me a
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  Speaker 1: beauty that was never mine? How first you knew me?
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  Speaker 1: In a book I wrote, how first you loved me?
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  Speaker 1: For a written line? So are we bound till broken?
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  Speaker 1: Is the throat of song and art no more leads
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  Speaker 1: out than hine. Eight. Oh, oh, you will be sorry
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  Speaker 1: for that word. Give back my book and take my
• 21:53
  Speaker 1: kiss instead? Was it my enemy or my friend? I heard?
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  Speaker 1: What a big book for such a little head. Come.
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  Speaker 1: I will show you no my newest hat, and you
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  Speaker 1: may watch me purse my mouth and prink. Oh, I
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  Speaker 1: shall love you still, and all of that, I never
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  Speaker 1: again shall tell you what I think. I shall be
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  Speaker 1: sweet and crafty, soft and sly. You will not catch
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  Speaker 1: me reading any more. I shall be called a wife
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  Speaker 1: to pattern by, And some day, when you knock and
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  Speaker 1: push the door, a some sane day, not too bright
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  Speaker 1: and not too stormy, I shall be gone, and you
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  Speaker 1: may whistle for me. Nine. Here is a wound that
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  Speaker 1: never will heal. I know, being wrought not of a
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  Speaker 1: dearness and a death, but of a love turned ashes,
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  Speaker 1: and the breath gone out of beauty. Never again will
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  Speaker 1: grow the grass on that scard acre, though I sow
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  Speaker 1: young seed there yearly, and the sky bequeath its friendly weathers.
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  Speaker 1: Down far underneath shall be such bitterness of an old woe,
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  Speaker 1: that April should be shattered by a gust, that August
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  Speaker 1: should be leveled by a rain I can endure, and
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  Speaker 1: that the lifted dust of man should settle to the
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  Speaker 1: earth again. But that a dream can die will be
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  Speaker 1: a thrust between my ribs forever of hot pain. Ten.
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  Speaker 1: I shall go back again to the bleak shore and
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  Speaker 1: build a little shanty on the sand in such a
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  Speaker 1: way that the extremest band of brittle seaweed will escape
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  Speaker 1: my door, but by a yard or two, And never
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  Speaker 1: more shall I return to take you by the hand.
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  Speaker 1: I shall be gone to what I understand, and happier
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  Speaker 1: than I ever was before. The love that stood a
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  Speaker 1: moment in your eyes. The words that lay a moment
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  Speaker 1: on your tongue are one with all that in a
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  Speaker 1: moment dies a little undersaid and oversung. But I shall
• 24:15
  Speaker 1: find the sullen rocks and skies, unchanged from what they
• 24:19
  Speaker 1: were when I was young eleven. Say what you will,
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  Speaker 1: and scratch my heart to find the roots of last
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  Speaker 1: year's roses in my breast. I am as surely riper
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  Speaker 1: in my mind as if the fruit stood in the stalls, confessed,
• 24:38
  Speaker 1: laugh at the unshed leaf. Say what you will call
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  Speaker 1: me in all things what I was before, A flutter
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  Speaker 1: in the wind a woman. Still, I tell you I
• 24:49
  Speaker 1: am what I was, and more. My branches weigh me down.
• 24:54
  Speaker 1: Frost cleans the air. My sky is black with small
• 24:59
  Speaker 1: birds bearing south. Say what you will confuse me with
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  Speaker 1: fine care good by my word as but an april truth.
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  Speaker 1: Autumn is no less on me that a rose hugs
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  Speaker 1: the brown bough and sighs before it goes twelve. What's
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  Speaker 1: this of death from you who never will die? Think
• 25:26
  Speaker 1: you the wrist that fashioned you in clay? The thumb
• 25:29
  Speaker 1: that set the hollow just that way in your full throat,
• 25:32
  Speaker 1: and liddid the long eye so roundly from the forehead,
• 25:36
  Speaker 1: will let lie broken forgotten under foot some day your
• 25:40
  Speaker 1: unimpeachable body, and so slay the work he most had
• 25:45
  Speaker 1: been remember'd by. I tell you this, whatever of dust
• 25:50
  Speaker 1: to dust goes down, whatever of ashes, may return to
• 25:53
  Speaker 1: its essential self in its own season. Loveliness such as yours,
• 25:57
  Speaker 1: will not be lost, but cast in bronze upon his
• 26:02
  Speaker 1: very urn, make known him master, and for what good reason. Thirteen.
• 26:12
  Speaker 1: I see so clearly now my similar years repeat each other,
• 26:17
  Speaker 1: shod in rusty black, like one hack following another hack,
• 26:21
  Speaker 1: in meaningless procession, dry of tears, driven empty, Lest the
• 26:27
  Speaker 1: noses sharp as shears of gutter urchins at her hearse's
• 26:32
  Speaker 1: back should sniff a man dyed friendless, and attack with
• 26:36
  Speaker 1: silly scorn his deaf, triumphant ears. I see so clearly
• 26:42
  Speaker 1: how my life must run one year behind another year,
• 26:46
  Speaker 1: until at length these bones that leap into the sun
• 26:50
  Speaker 1: are lowered into the gravel and lie still. I would
• 26:54
  Speaker 1: at times the funeral were done, and I abandoned on
• 26:59
  Speaker 1: the ultimate hill. Fourteen. Your face is like a chamber
• 27:07
  Speaker 1: where a king dies of his wounds, untended and alone,
• 27:12
  Speaker 1: stifling with courteous gesture, the crude moan that speaks too
• 27:16
  Speaker 1: loud of mortal perishing, rising on elbow in the dark,
• 27:21
  Speaker 1: to sing some rhyme now out of season, but well
• 27:25
  Speaker 1: known in days when banners in his face were blown,
• 27:28
  Speaker 1: and every woman had a rose to fling. I know
• 27:32
  Speaker 1: that through your eyes, which look on me, who stand
• 27:35
  Speaker 1: regarding you with pitiful breath, you see beyond the moment's pause.
• 27:40
  Speaker 1: You see the sunny sky, the skimming bird beneath and
• 27:45
  Speaker 1: fronting on your windows, hopelessly black in the noon, the
• 27:50
  Speaker 1: broadest states of death. Fifteen. The light comes back with columbine.
• 27:58
  Speaker 1: She brings a touch of this, a little touch of that,
• 28:02
  Speaker 1: colored confetti, and a favor hat, patches and powdered dolls
• 28:06
  Speaker 1: that work by strings, and moons that work by switches,
• 28:11
  Speaker 1: all the things that please a sick man's fancy, and
• 28:14
  Speaker 1: a flat, spry, convalescent kiss, and a small pat upon
• 28:19
  Speaker 1: the pillow paper offerings. The light goes out with her.
• 28:25
  Speaker 1: The shadows sprawl where she has left her fragrance like
• 28:29
  Speaker 1: a shawl. I lie alone and pluck the counterpane, or
• 28:34
  Speaker 1: on a dizzy elbow, rise and hark and down like
• 28:38
  Speaker 1: dominoes along the dark. Her little silly laughter spills again.
• 28:46
  Speaker 1: Sixteen Lord Archer death, whom sent you in your stead?
• 28:52
  Speaker 1: What faltering prentice fumbled at your bow? That now should
• 28:56
  Speaker 1: wander within? Sanguine dead, in whom for ever the bright
• 29:00
  Speaker 1: blood must flow? Or is it rather that impairing time
• 29:04
  Speaker 1: renders yourself so random or so dim? Or are you
• 29:09
  Speaker 1: sick of shadows and would climb awhile to light while
• 29:12
  Speaker 1: detaining him? For no, this was no mortal youth to
• 29:16
  Speaker 1: be of you, confounded, but a heavenly guest, assuming earthly
• 29:20
  Speaker 1: garb for love of me, and hell's demure attire for
• 29:24
  Speaker 1: love of jest, bringing me asphodel and a dark feather.
• 29:29
  Speaker 1: He will return and we shall laugh together. Seventeen. Loving
• 29:39
  Speaker 1: you less than life, a little less than bitter sweet
• 29:43
  Speaker 1: upon a broken wall or brushwood smoke in autumn, I
• 29:48
  Speaker 1: confess I cannot swear I love you not at all.
• 29:51
  Speaker 1: For there is that about you in this light, a
• 29:54
  Speaker 1: yellow darkness, sinister of rain, which sturdily recalls my stubborn
• 30:00
  Speaker 1: sight to dwell on you, and dwell on you again,
• 30:05
  Speaker 1: and I am made aware of many a week I
• 30:07
  Speaker 1: shall consume, remembering in what way your brown hair grows
• 30:11
  Speaker 1: about your brow and cheek, and what divine absurdities you
• 30:15
  Speaker 1: say till all the world and I and surely you
• 30:20
  Speaker 1: will know I love you, whether or not I do. Eighteen. I,
• 30:30
  Speaker 1: being born a woman and distressed by all the needs
• 30:33
  Speaker 1: and notions of my kind, ammerg'd by your propinquity to
• 30:38
  Speaker 1: find your person fair, and feel a certain zest to
• 30:42
  Speaker 1: bear your body's weight upon my breast. So subtly is
• 30:46
  Speaker 1: the fume of life, design'd to clarify the pulse and
• 30:50
  Speaker 1: cloud the mind, and leave me once again undone possessed.
• 30:56
  Speaker 1: Think not for this, however, the poor treason of my
• 30:59
  Speaker 1: stout bloodlud against my staggering brain. I shall remember you
• 31:04
  Speaker 1: with love, or season my scorn with pity. Let me
• 31:09
  Speaker 1: make it plain. I find this frenzy insufficient reason for
• 31:13
  Speaker 1: conversation when we meet again. Nineteen What lips my lips
• 31:22
  Speaker 1: have kissed? And where and why I have forgotten? And
• 31:27
  Speaker 1: what arms have lain under my head till morning? But
• 31:31
  Speaker 1: the rain is full of ghosts. To night, the tap
• 31:35
  Speaker 1: and sigh upon the glass, and listen for reply, And
• 31:40
  Speaker 1: in my heart this stirs a quiet pain for unremembered lads,
• 31:45
  Speaker 1: that not again will turn to me at midnight with
• 31:47
  Speaker 1: a cry. Thus, in the winter stands the lonely tree,
• 31:53
  Speaker 1: nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, yet
• 31:57
  Speaker 1: knows its boughs more silent than before. I cannot say
• 32:03
  Speaker 1: what loves have come and gone. I only know that
• 32:07
  Speaker 1: summer sang in me a little, while that in me
• 32:11
  Speaker 1: sings no more. Twenty Still will I harvest beauty where
• 32:18
  Speaker 1: it grows in colored fungus and the spotted fog, surprised
• 32:23
  Speaker 1: on foods forgotten in ditch and bog, filled brilliant with
• 32:27
  Speaker 1: irregular rainbows of rust and oil, where half a city
• 32:31
  Speaker 1: throws its empty tins, and in some spongy log, whence
• 32:35
  Speaker 1: headlong leaps the oozy emerald frog, and a black pupil
• 32:40
  Speaker 1: in the green scum shows her the inhabitor of divers places,
• 32:46
  Speaker 1: surmising at all doors, I pushed them all. Oh you
• 32:51
  Speaker 1: that fearful of a creaking hinge, turned back for evermore
• 32:55
  Speaker 1: with craven faces. I tell you, beauty bears an ultra fringe,
• 32:59
  Speaker 1: un guest of you upon her gossamer Shawl twenty one,
• 33:08
  Speaker 1: how healthily their feet upon the floor strike down. These
• 33:12
  Speaker 1: are no spirits, but a band of children, surely leaping
• 33:16
  Speaker 1: hand in hand into the air, in groups of three
• 33:19
  Speaker 1: and four, wearing their silken rags, as if they wore
• 33:23
  Speaker 1: leaves only in light grasses, or a strand of black
• 33:26
  Speaker 1: elusive seaweed, losing sand, and running hard as if along
• 33:30
  Speaker 1: a shore. I know how lost forever and at length,
• 33:36
  Speaker 1: how still these lovely tossing limbs shall lie, and the
• 33:40
  Speaker 1: bright laughter and the panting breath. And yet before such
• 33:45
  Speaker 1: beauty and such strength once more, as always, when the
• 33:49
  Speaker 1: dance is high, I am rebuked that I believe in death.
• 33:56
  Speaker 1: Twenty two. Euclid alone has looked on beauty bare. Let
• 34:02
  Speaker 1: all who prate of beauty hold their peace, and lay
• 34:06
  Speaker 1: them prone upon the earth, and cease to ponder on themselves,
• 34:10
  Speaker 1: though while they stare at nothing intricately drawn nowhere in
• 34:15
  Speaker 1: shapes of shifting lineych let, geese gabble and hiss. But
• 34:20
  Speaker 1: he rose seek release from dusty bondage into luminous air.
• 34:26
  Speaker 1: Oh blinding hour, oh wholly terrible day. When first the
• 34:31
  Speaker 1: shaft into his vision shone of light, anatomized euclid alone
• 34:38
  Speaker 1: has looked on beauty bare fortunate they who, though once
• 34:43
  Speaker 1: only and then but far away, have heard her massive
• 34:47
  Speaker 1: sandals set on stone immediately following our sonnets from an
• 34:56
  Speaker 1: ungrafted tree. One so so she came back into his
• 35:01
  Speaker 1: house again and watched beside his bed until he died,
• 35:06
  Speaker 1: loving him not at all. The winter rain splashed in
• 35:10
  Speaker 1: the painted buttertub outside, where once her regeraniums had stood,
• 35:15
  Speaker 1: where still their rotted stalks were to be seen. The
• 35:18
  Speaker 1: thin logs snapped, and she went out for wood, bare headed,
• 35:23
  Speaker 1: running the few steps between the house and shed. There,
• 35:26
  Speaker 1: from the sodden eaves blown back and forth on ragged
• 35:29
  Speaker 1: ends of twine, saw the dejected creeping ginnevine, and one
• 35:35
  Speaker 1: big aproned blithe with stiff blue sleeves rolled to the
• 35:40
  Speaker 1: shoulder that warm day and spring who planted seeds, musing
• 35:45
  Speaker 1: ahead to their far blossoming two. The last white sawdust
• 35:53
  Speaker 1: on the floor was grown gray as the first, so
• 35:56
  Speaker 1: long he had been ill. The axe was nodding in
• 35:59
  Speaker 1: the block. Fresh blown and foreign, came the rain across
• 36:02
  Speaker 1: the sill, but on the roof so steadily it drummed
• 36:06
  Speaker 1: she could not think a time it might not be
• 36:10
  Speaker 1: in hazy summer, when the hot air hummed with mowing
• 36:13
  Speaker 1: and locusts rising raspingly, when that small bird with iridescent
• 36:18
  Speaker 1: wings and long, incredible sudden silver tongue had just flashed,
• 36:24
  Speaker 1: And yet may be not among the dwarf nasturtiums, when
• 36:28
  Speaker 1: no sagging springs of shower were in the whole bright sky. Somehow,
• 36:34
  Speaker 1: upon this roof the rain would drum as it was
• 36:36
  Speaker 1: drumming now. Three. She filled her arms with wood and
• 36:44
  Speaker 1: set her chin forward to hold the highest stick in place,
• 36:48
  Speaker 1: no less afraid than she had always been of spiders
• 36:50
  Speaker 1: up her arms and on her face, while too impatient
• 36:54
  Speaker 1: for a careful search or less heavy loading from the heap,
• 36:58
  Speaker 1: selecting hastily small sticks of birch for their curled bark
• 37:02
  Speaker 1: that instantly will leap into a blaze, nor thinking to
• 37:05
  Speaker 1: return some day distracted as of old, to find smooth, heavy,
• 37:10
  Speaker 1: round green logs with a wet gray rind only and
• 37:14
  Speaker 1: knotty chunks that will not burn that day when dust
• 37:19
  Speaker 1: is on the wood box floor, and some old catalog
• 37:23
  Speaker 1: and a brown shriveled apple core. Four the white bark
• 37:32
  Speaker 1: writhed and spluttered like a fish upon the coals, exuding
• 37:35
  Speaker 1: odorous smoke. She knelt and blew in a surging, desolate
• 37:40
  Speaker 1: wish for comfort, and the sleeping ashes woke and scattered
• 37:44
  Speaker 1: to the hearth, but no thin fire broke. Suddenly the
• 37:48
  Speaker 1: wood was wet with rain. Then, softly, stepping forth from
• 37:52
  Speaker 1: her desire, being mindful of light passion, hurled in vain
• 37:56
  Speaker 1: upon a similar task in other days. She thrust her
• 37:59
  Speaker 1: breath against the stubborn coal, bringing to bear upon its
• 38:03
  Speaker 1: hilt the whole of her still body. There sprang a
• 38:06
  Speaker 1: little blaze a pack of hounds. The flame swept up
• 38:10
  Speaker 1: the flue, and the blue Knight stood flattened against the window,
• 38:16
  Speaker 1: staring through five A wagon stopped before the house. She
• 38:24
  Speaker 1: heard the heavy oilskins of the grocer's man slapping against
• 38:27
  Speaker 1: his legs. Of a sudden whirled her heart like a
• 38:30
  Speaker 1: frightened partridge, and she ran and slid the bolt, leaving
• 38:34
  Speaker 1: his entrance free. Then in the cellar way till he
• 38:37
  Speaker 1: was gone, hid breathless, praying that he might not see
• 38:41
  Speaker 1: the chair sway she had laid her hand upon. In
• 38:43
  Speaker 1: passing sour and damp, from that dark vault arose to
• 38:48
  Speaker 1: her the well remembered chill. She saw the narrow wooden
• 38:51
  Speaker 1: stairway still plunging into the earth, and the thin salt
• 38:56
  Speaker 1: crusting the crocks. Until she knew him far so stood
• 39:00
  Speaker 1: with listening eyes upon the empty doughnut jar. Six. Then
• 39:08
  Speaker 1: cautiously she pushed the cellar door and stepped into the kitchen.
• 39:13
  Speaker 1: Saw the track of muddy rubber boots across the floor,
• 39:16
  Speaker 1: the many paper parcels in a stack upon the dresser,
• 39:19
  Speaker 1: with accustomed care, removed the twine and put the wrappings
• 39:23
  Speaker 1: by folded, and the bags flat, that, with an air
• 39:26
  Speaker 1: of ease, had been whipped open skillfully to the gape
• 39:29
  Speaker 1: of children. Treacherously, dear and simple was the dull, familiar task,
• 39:35
  Speaker 1: And so it was she came at length to ask
• 39:38
  Speaker 1: how came the soda? There? The sugar here? Then the
• 39:43
  Speaker 1: dream broke silent. She brought the mop and forced the
• 39:47
  Speaker 1: trade slip on the nail that held his razors. Trop seven.
• 39:54
  Speaker 1: One way there was a muting in the mind a
• 39:56
  Speaker 1: little while, the ever clamorous care, and there was rapture
• 40:00
  Speaker 1: of a decent kind in making mean and ugly objects,
• 40:04
  Speaker 1: fair soft sooted kettle bottoms that had been time after times,
• 40:08
  Speaker 1: set in above the fire, faucets and candlesticks corroded green
• 40:13
  Speaker 1: to mine again, from quarry to attire, the shelves in
• 40:17
  Speaker 1: paper petticoats, and tack new oilcloth in the ringed and
• 40:20
  Speaker 1: rotten's place. Polish the stove till you could see your face,
• 40:25
  Speaker 1: and after nightfall rear an aching back in a changed kitchen,
• 40:29
  Speaker 1: bright as a new pin, an advertisement far too fine
• 40:34
  Speaker 1: to cook a supper In eight. She let them leave
• 40:40
  Speaker 1: their jellies at the door and go away, reluctant down
• 40:43
  Speaker 1: the walk. She heard them talking as they passed before
• 40:46
  Speaker 1: the blind, but could not quite make out their talk
• 40:49
  Speaker 1: for noise in the room. The sudden heavy fall and
• 40:52
  Speaker 1: roll of a charred log, and the roused shower of
• 40:56
  Speaker 1: snapping sparks, then sharply from the wall. The unforgivable crowing
• 41:01
  Speaker 1: of the hour one instant set ajar. Her quiet ear
• 41:05
  Speaker 1: was stormed and forced by the full rout of day.
• 41:09
  Speaker 1: The rasp of a saw, the fussy cluck and bray
• 41:12
  Speaker 1: of hens, the wheeze of a pump. She needs must hear,
• 41:16
  Speaker 1: she inescapably, must endure to feel across her teeth, the
• 41:20
  Speaker 1: grinding of a backing wagon wheel nine. Not over kind,
• 41:28
  Speaker 1: nor over quick in study, nor skilled in sports, nor
• 41:32
  Speaker 1: beautiful was he who had come into her life when
• 41:34
  Speaker 1: anybody would have been welcome. So in need was she.
• 41:38
  Speaker 1: They had become acquainted in this way. He flashed a
• 41:41
  Speaker 1: mirror in her eyes at school, by which it was
• 41:44
  Speaker 1: distinguished from that day they went about together as a rule.
• 41:48
  Speaker 1: She told, in secret and with whispering, how he had
• 41:51
  Speaker 1: flashed a mirror in her eyes. And as she told,
• 41:55
  Speaker 1: it struck her with surprise. But this was not so
• 41:58
  Speaker 1: wonderful a thing. But what's the odds. It's pretty nice
• 42:02
  Speaker 1: to know you've got a friend to keep you company
• 42:05
  Speaker 1: everywhere you go. Ten She had forgotten how the August
• 42:12
  Speaker 1: night was leveled as a lake beneath the moon, in
• 42:15
  Speaker 1: which she swam a little, losing sight of shore. And
• 42:19
  Speaker 1: how the boy that was at noon simple enough, not
• 42:22
  Speaker 1: different from the rest, wore now a pleasant mystery as
• 42:26
  Speaker 1: he went, which seemed to her an honest enough test
• 42:30
  Speaker 1: whether she loved him. And she was content. So loud,
• 42:35
  Speaker 1: so loud, the million cricket's choir, so sweet, the night
• 42:40
  Speaker 1: so long drawn out and late, And if the man
• 42:44
  Speaker 1: were not her spirit's mate, why was her body sluggish
• 42:48
  Speaker 1: with desire stark on the open field the moonlight fell,
• 42:54
  Speaker 1: but the oak tree's shadow was deep and black and
• 42:58
  Speaker 1: secret as a well. Eleven It came into her mind,
• 43:06
  Speaker 1: seeing how the snow was gone, and the brown grass
• 43:09
  Speaker 1: exposed again, and clothes pins, and an apron long ago
• 43:14
  Speaker 1: in some white storm that sifted through the pain and
• 43:16
  Speaker 1: sent her forth reluctantly, last together in before the line
• 43:19
  Speaker 1: gave way, garments board stiff that galloped on the blast,
• 43:23
  Speaker 1: clashing like angel armies in a fray, an apron long
• 43:27
  Speaker 1: ago in such a night, blown down and buried in
• 43:30
  Speaker 1: the deepening drift, to lie till April thought it back
• 43:35
  Speaker 1: to sight, forgotten, quaint and novel as a gift. It
• 43:39
  Speaker 1: struck her as she pulled and pried and tore, that
• 43:43
  Speaker 1: here was spring, and the whole year to be lived
• 43:47
  Speaker 1: through once more, twelve tenderly in those times, as though
• 43:56
  Speaker 1: she fed an ailing child, with sturdy propping up of
• 43:59
  Speaker 1: its small, feverish body in the bed and steadying of
• 44:03
  Speaker 1: its hands about the cup, She gave her husband of
• 44:06
  Speaker 1: her body's strength, thinking of men, what helpless things they were,
• 44:11
  Speaker 1: until he turned and fell asleep at length, and stealthily
• 44:14
  Speaker 1: stirred the night and spoke to her familiar at such moments,
• 44:20
  Speaker 1: like a friend whistled far off the long mysterious train,
• 44:26
  Speaker 1: and she could see in her mind's vision playing the
• 44:28
  Speaker 1: magic world, where cities stood on end, remote from where
• 44:34
  Speaker 1: she lay, and yet between save for something asleep beside her,
• 44:40
  Speaker 1: only the window screen. Thirteen from the Wan dream that
• 44:47
  Speaker 1: was her waking day, wherein she journeyed borne along the
• 44:51
  Speaker 1: ground without her own volition in some way, or fleeing
• 44:56
  Speaker 1: motionless with feet fast bound, or running silent through a
• 45:00
  Speaker 1: silent house sharply remembered from an earlier dream up stairs
• 45:06
  Speaker 1: down other stairs, fearful to rouse regarding him, the wide
• 45:11
  Speaker 1: and empty scream of a strange sleeper on a malignant bed,
• 45:16
  Speaker 1: and all the time not certain if it were herself
• 45:19
  Speaker 1: so doing, or some one liked to her. From this
• 45:25
  Speaker 1: Wan dream that was her daily bread, sometimes at night, incredulous,
• 45:29
  Speaker 1: she would wake a child blowing bubbles that the chairs
• 45:35
  Speaker 1: and carpet did not break. Fourteen She had a horror
• 45:43
  Speaker 1: he would die at night, And sometimes when the light
• 45:47
  Speaker 1: began to fade, she could not keep from noticing how
• 45:50
  Speaker 1: white the birches looked, and then she would be afraid,
• 45:54
  Speaker 1: even with a lamp, to go about the house and
• 45:55
  Speaker 1: lock the windows. And as night wore on toward morning,
• 46:00
  Speaker 1: if a dog howled or a mouse squeaked in the floor,
• 46:03
  Speaker 1: long after it was gone, her flesh would sit awry
• 46:06
  Speaker 1: on her. By day she would forget somewhat, and it
• 46:10
  Speaker 1: would seem a silly thing to go with just this
• 46:13
  Speaker 1: dream and get a neighbor to come at night and stay.
• 46:17
  Speaker 1: But it would strike her sometimes making the tea. She
• 46:21
  Speaker 1: had kept that kettle boiling all night long. For company fifteen.
• 46:30
  Speaker 1: There was upon the sill a pencil mark vital with
• 46:34
  Speaker 1: shadow when the sun stood still at noon. But now
• 46:37
  Speaker 1: because the day was dark, it was a pencil mark
• 46:40
  Speaker 1: upon the sill, and the mute clock maintaining ever the
• 46:44
  Speaker 1: same dead moment, blank and vacant of itself, was a
• 46:49
  Speaker 1: pink shepherdess, a picture frame, a shell marked souvenir there
• 46:54
  Speaker 1: on the shelf. Whence it occurred to her that he
• 46:58
  Speaker 1: might be the means being broken in his mind, a
• 47:02
  Speaker 1: clock himself, if one were so inclined, that stood at
• 47:06
  Speaker 1: twenty minutes after three. The reason being for this, it
• 47:10
  Speaker 1: might be said that things in death were neither clocks
• 47:14
  Speaker 1: nor people, but only dead. Sixteen. The doctor asked her
• 47:23
  Speaker 1: what she wanted done with him that could not lie
• 47:25
  Speaker 1: there many days, and she was shocked to see how
• 47:29
  Speaker 1: life goes on even after death in irritating ways, and mused,
• 47:34
  Speaker 1: how if he had not died at all, twould have
• 47:37
  Speaker 1: been easier. Then there need not be the stiff disorder
• 47:40
  Speaker 1: of a funeral everywhere, and the hideous industry, and crowds
• 47:45
  Speaker 1: of people calling her by name and questioning her she
• 47:48
  Speaker 1: had never seen before, but only watching by his bed
• 47:52
  Speaker 1: once more, and sitting silent if a knocking came, she said,
• 47:58
  Speaker 1: at length, feeling the doctor's eyes, I don't know what
• 48:02
  Speaker 1: you do exactly when a person dies. Seventeen. Gazing upon him,
• 48:10
  Speaker 1: now severe and dead, it seemed a curious thing that
• 48:15
  Speaker 1: she had lain beside him many a night in that
• 48:17
  Speaker 1: cold bed, and that had been which would not be
• 48:21
  Speaker 1: again from his desirous body. The great heat was gone
• 48:25
  Speaker 1: at last, it seemed, and the taut nerves loosened for
• 48:29
  Speaker 1: ever formerly The sheet set forth for her to day,
• 48:34
  Speaker 1: those heavy curves and lengths familiar as the bedroom door.
• 48:39
  Speaker 1: She was at one that enters sly and proud to
• 48:43
  Speaker 1: where her husband speaks before a crowd and sees a
• 48:46
  Speaker 1: man she never saw before, the man who eats her
• 48:50
  Speaker 1: victuals at her side, small and absurd in hers for
• 48:54
  Speaker 1: once not hers unclassified and of section three, section four
• 49:10
  Speaker 1: of sonnets by Edna Saint Vinsaint Malay. This LibriVox recording
• 49:14
  Speaker 1: is in the public domain. Read by Thomas Copeland from
• 49:18
  Speaker 1: poems by add Saint Vincent Malay in nineteen twenty three.
• 49:23
  Speaker 1: One thou art not lovelier than lilacs, no nor honeysuckle.
• 49:30
  Speaker 1: Thou art not more fair than small white single poppies.
• 49:34
  Speaker 1: I can bear thy beauty, though I bend before thee,
• 49:39
  Speaker 1: though from left to right, not knowing where to go,
• 49:42
  Speaker 1: I turn my troubled eyes, nor hear, nor there find
• 49:46
  Speaker 1: any refuge from thee. Yet I swear so has it
• 49:50
  Speaker 1: been with mist, with moonlight. So like him who day
• 49:57
  Speaker 1: by day unto his draft of delicate poison, and adds
• 50:01
  Speaker 1: in one drop more till he may drink unharmed. The
• 50:04
  Speaker 1: death of ten even so inured to beauty, who have
• 50:10
  Speaker 1: quothed each hour more deeply than the hour before I
• 50:15
  Speaker 1: drink and live, but has destroyed some men. Two time
• 50:25
  Speaker 1: does not bring relief. You all have lied who told
• 50:30
  Speaker 1: me time would ease me of my pain. I miss
• 50:34
  Speaker 1: him in the weeping of the rain. I want him
• 50:38
  Speaker 1: at the shrinking of the tide. The old snows melt
• 50:42
  Speaker 1: from every mountain side, and last year's leaves are smoke
• 50:45
  Speaker 1: in every lane. But last year's bitter loving must remain
• 50:50
  Speaker 1: heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide. There
• 50:57
  Speaker 1: are a hundred places where I fear to go, So
• 51:00
  Speaker 1: with his memory they brim, and entering with relief some
• 51:05
  Speaker 1: quiet place where never fell his foot or shone his face,
• 51:09
  Speaker 1: I say, there is no memory of him here, and
• 51:14
  Speaker 1: so stands stricken, So remembering him. Three mindful of you,
• 51:26
  Speaker 1: the sodden earth in spring, and all the flowers that
• 51:30
  Speaker 1: in the springtime grow, and dusty roads and thistles, and
• 51:35
  Speaker 1: the slow rising of the round moon, all throats that
• 51:40
  Speaker 1: sing the summer through, and each departing wing, and all
• 51:45
  Speaker 1: the nests that the bare branches show, and all winds
• 51:51
  Speaker 1: that in any weather blow, and all the storms that
• 51:55
  Speaker 1: the four seasons bring. You go no more on your
• 52:00
  Speaker 1: exultant feet, uppaths that only mist and morning knew. Or
• 52:05
  Speaker 1: watch the wind. Oh listen to the beat of a
• 52:09
  Speaker 1: bird's wings, too high an air to view. But you
• 52:14
  Speaker 1: were something more than young and sweet and fair. And
• 52:21
  Speaker 1: the long year remembers you four, not in this chamber,
• 52:30
  Speaker 1: only at my birth. When the long hours of that
• 52:32
  Speaker 1: mysterious night were over and the morning was in sight,
• 52:36
  Speaker 1: I cried. But in strange places, step and firth I
• 52:41
  Speaker 1: have not seen through alien grief and mirth. And never
• 52:46
  Speaker 1: shall one room contain me quite who, in so many
• 52:50
  Speaker 1: rooms first saw the light, child of all mothers, native
• 52:54
  Speaker 1: of the earth. So is no warmth for me at
• 52:58
  Speaker 1: any fire to day, when the world's fires burned so low,
• 53:04
  Speaker 1: I kneel, spending my breath in vain desire at that
• 53:09
  Speaker 1: cold hearth which one time roared so strong, and straightened
• 53:15
  Speaker 1: back in weariness, and longed to gather up my little
• 53:19
  Speaker 1: gods and go five. If I should learn in some
• 53:27
  Speaker 1: quite casual way that you were gone, not to return again,
• 53:32
  Speaker 1: read from the back page of a paper, say, held
• 53:35
  Speaker 1: by a neighbor in a subway train ower the corner
• 53:38
  Speaker 1: of this avenue and such a street, So were the
• 53:41
  Speaker 1: papers filled. A hurrying man who happened to be you
• 53:47
  Speaker 1: at noon to day had happened to be kill'd I
• 53:51
  Speaker 1: should not cry aloud. I could not cry aloud or
• 53:54
  Speaker 1: wring my hands in such a place. I should but
• 53:58
  Speaker 1: watch the station lights rush with a more careful interest
• 54:02
  Speaker 1: on my face. Oh, raise my eyes and read with
• 54:06
  Speaker 1: greater care where to store furs and how to treat
• 54:11
  Speaker 1: the hair. Six blue beard. This door you might not open,
• 54:20
  Speaker 1: and you did so. Enter now and see for what
• 54:24
  Speaker 1: slight thing you are betrayed. Here is no treasure hid,
• 54:28
  Speaker 1: no cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring the sought for truth,
• 54:34
  Speaker 1: no heads of women slain for greed like yours, no
• 54:38
  Speaker 1: writhings of distress, but only what you see. Look at again,
• 54:44
  Speaker 1: an empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless. Yet this alone, out
• 54:51
  Speaker 1: of my life, I kept unto myself, lest any know
• 54:56
  Speaker 1: me quite. And you did so profane me when you
• 55:00
  Speaker 1: crept under the threshold of this room to night, that
• 55:03
  Speaker 1: I must never more behold your face. This now is yours.
• 55:09
  Speaker 1: I seek another place. End of section four, end of
• 55:16
  Speaker 1: sonnets by Edna Saint Vincent Malat