VAGRANT VERSE
RIDDLE. If you were gone afar, z\nd lost the pattern Of all your delightful ways, And the web undone. How would one make you anew. From what dew and flowers, What burningly mingled atoms Under the sun? Not from too-satin roses, Or those rare blossoms, Orchids, scentless and precious As precious stone. But out of lemon-verbena, Rose-geranium, These alone. Not with running horses Or Spanish cannon, Organs voiced like a lion, Clamour and speed, But perhaps with old music-boxes, Young, tawny kittens Wild-strawberry-seed. Even so, it were more Than a god could compass To fashion the body merely, The lovely shroud. But then—ah, how to recapture That evanescence, That fire that cried in pure crystal Out of the cloud! By Stephen Vincent Benet in the New Republic.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ST19250616.2.24
Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 19578, 16 June 1925, Page 4
Word Count
129VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 19578, 16 June 1925, Page 4
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