"Whatever the weather may be," says he-- "Whatever the weather may be It's plaze, if ye will, an' I'll say me say,-- Supposin' to-day was the winterest day, Wud the weather be changing because ye cried,...
Say, what is Honour? 'Tis the finest sense Of 'justice' which the human mind can frame, Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim, And guard the way of life from all offence...
Scented herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I yield, I write, to be perused best afterwards, Tomb-leaves, body-leaves, growing up above me, above death,...
At suburban railway stations, you may see them as you pass, there are signboards on the platform saying "Wait here second class," And to me the whirr and thunder and the cluck of running-gear...
As o'er his furrowed fields which lie Beneath a coldly dropping sky, Yet chill with winter's melted snow, The husbandman goes forth to sow, Thus, Freedom, on the bitter blast...
Seeking for happiness we must go slowly; The road leads not down avenues of haste; But often gently winds through by ways lowly, Whose hidden pleasures are serene and chaste...
See, the dawn from Heaven is breaking O'er our sight, And Earth from sin awaking, Hails the light! See those groups of angels, winging From the realms above, On their brows, from Eden, bringing...
See you have dancers and wine and a girl like one of the angels (If they exist), And find a clear stream singing near its birth and a bed of moss (If moss exists),...
Now this is the creed from the Book of the Bush, Should be simple and plain to a dunce: "If a man's in a hole you must pass round the hat, Were he jail-bird or gentleman once."
Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is he small, with reddish hair, Does he light his pipe with meditative stare, And a pointed flame reflected in both eyes?...
Senlin, walking beside us, swings his arms And turns his head to look at walls and trees. The wind comes whistling from shrill stars of winter, The lights are jewels, black roots freeze....
It is evening, Senlin says, and in the evening, By a silent shore, by a far distant sea, White unicorns come gravely down to the water. In the lilac dusk they come, they are white and stately,...
Senlin, walking before us in the sunlight, Bending his small legs in a peculiar way, Goes to his work with thoughts of the universe. His hands are in his pockets, he smokes his pipe,...
In the hot noon, in an old and savage garden, The peach-tree grows. Its cruel and ugly roots Rend and rifle the silent earth for moisture. Above, in the blue, hang warm and golden fruits....
Rustling among his odds and ends of knowledge Suddenly, to his wonder, Senlin finds How Cleopatra and Senebtisi Were dug by many hands from ancient tombs. Cloth after scented cloth the sage unwinds:...
'And am I then a pyramid?' says Senlin, 'In which are caves and coffins, where lies hidden Some old and mocking hieroglyph of flesh? Or am I rather the moonlight, spreading subtly...
In cold blue lucid dusk before the sunrise, One yellow star sings over a peak of snow, And melts and vanishes in a light like roses. Through slanting mist, black rocks appear and glow....
I am a house, says Senlin, locked and darkened, Sealed from the sun with wall and door and blind. Summon me loudly, and you'll hear slow footsteps Ring far and faint in the galleries of my mind....
It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning When the light drips through the shutters like the dew, I arise, I face the sunrise, And do the things my fathers learned to do....