New Poems

by Charles G.D. Roberts


 

THE GOOD EARTH


 

THE smell of burning weeds
    Upon the twilight air;
The piping of the frogs
    From meadows wet and bare;

A presence in the wood,

5
    And in my blood a stir;
In all the ardent earth
    No failure or demur.

O spring wind, sweet with love
    And tender with desire,

10
Pour into veins of mine
    Your pure, impassioned fire.

O waters running free
    With full, exultant song,
Give me, for outworn dream,

15
    Life that is clean and strong.

O good Earth, warm with youth,
    My childhood heart renew.
Make me elate, sincere,
    Simple and glad, as you.

20

O springing things of green,
    O waiting things of bloom,
O winging things of air,
Your lordship now resume.