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Echoes
from Vagabondia
by
Bliss Carman
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A
LYRIC
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OH,
once I could not understand
The sob within the throat of spring,—
The shrilling of the frogs, nor why
The birds so passionately sing.
That was before your beauty came
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5 |
And
stooped to teach my soul desire,
When on these mortal lips you laid
The magic and immortal fire.
I wondered why the sea should seem
So gray, so lonely, and so old;
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The
sigh of level-driving snows
In winter so forlornly cold.
I wondered what it was could give
The scarlet autumn pomps their pride,
And paint with colors not of earth
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glory of the mountainside.
I could not tell why youth should dream
And worship at the evening star,
And yet must go with eager feet
Where danger and where splendor are.
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I could not guess why men at times,
Beholding beauty, should go mad
With joy or sorrow or despair
Or some unknown delight they had.
I wondered what they would receive
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From
Time’s inexorable hand
So full of loveliness and doom.
But now, ah, now I understand!
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