Was it the sigh and shiver of the leaves?
Was it the murmer of the meadow brook,
That in and out the reeds and water weeds
Slipped silverly, and on their tremulous keys
Uttered her many melodies? Or voice
Of the far sea, red with the sunset gold,
That sang within her shining shores, and sang
Within the gate, that in the sunset shone
A gate of fire against the outer world?
For, ever as I turned the magic page
Of that old song the old, blind singer sang
Unto the world, when it and song were young-
The ripple of the reeds, or odorous,
Soft sigh of leaves, or voice of the far sea-
A mystical, low murmur, tremulous
Upon the wind, came in with musk of rose,
The salt breath of the waves, and far, faint smell
Of laurel up the slopes of Tamalpais….
“Am I less fair, am I less fair than these,
Daughters of far-off seas?
Daughters of far-off shores, – bleak, over-blown
With foam of fretful tides, with wail and moan
Of waves, that toss wild hands, that clasp and beat
Wild, desolate hands above the lonely sands,
Printed no more with pressure of their feet:
That chase no more the light feet flying swift
Up golden sands, nor lift
Foam fingers white unto their garment hem,
And flowing hair of them.
“For these are dead: the fair, great queens are dead!
The long hair’s gold a dust the wind bloweth
Wherever it may list;
The curv
(Ina Donna Coolbrith)
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Based on Topics: World Poems, Light Poems, Fairness Poems, Kings & Queens Poems, Fire Poems, Gold Poems, Daughters PoemsBased on Keywords: curv, murmer, tamalpais, over-blown