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C B RETAs published in Poetry Magazine, 1924
Her dress was bistre, and her eyes, slim lines
Of grey jade gleaming through a blackened veil.
Sharp laughter, gayer than a madrigal,
Shattered, as wind against a spray of vines
The dark and mournful beauty of her small
Vermilion mouth, that ached from being gay.
And subtly, terribly, lay drenched in all
The odor of fruit over-ripe.
Decay.
C B RETAs published in Will-o-the-Wisp, 1925
Her dress was bistre, and her eyes, slim lines
Of grey jade gleaming through a blackened veil;
Gladlaughter, gayer than a madrigal,Shattered, as wind, against
a spray of vines,
The dark and mournful beauty of her small
Vermilion mouth, that ached with being gay.
And subtly, dreadfully, there lay, in all
The odor of fruit over-ripe
Decay.
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THE CAPTIVE (1921)
Published in Poetry Magazineas part of a series
of poems entitled Handful of Ashes
Beauty that shakes in lights,
Beauty that gleams in mists,
Loveliness of still nights,
Gold of the stars that twists,
Ribbon-like, into the sea
Beauty is calling me.
Delicate crimson flames,
Jewels with long histories,
Mysterious oft-said names,
Blossoms beneath great trees,
Melodies deep and low,
Call me. I can not go.
Heliotrope, jasmine, rose;
Lovers, at crumbling gates;
Twilight, when eyelids close,
Cliffs, where the sea-bird mates:
Beauty holds these for me
Whose eyes are too blind to see.
Beauty, when sunbeams blur,
Calls me again and again.
I can not answer her.Beauty shall call me in vain,
Sadly, from year to year
Passion has chained me here.
CAPTIVE (1924)
Published as a single poem in Black Babylon
BEAUTY, that shakes in lights,
Beauty, that gleams in mists,
Loveliness of still nights,
Gold of the stars, that twists,
Ribbon-like, into the sea
Beauty is calling me.
Delicate crimson flames,
Jewels with long histories,
Mysterious oft said names,
Blossoms beneath great trees,
Melodies, deep and low,
Call meI can not go.
Heliotrope, jasmine, rose,
Lovers, at crumbling gates,
Twilight, when eyelids close,
Cliffs, where the sea-bird mates,
Beauty holds these, for me,
Whose eyes are too blind to see.
Beauty, when shadows blur,
Calls me again and again
I can not answer her.Beauty shall call me in vain,
Sadly, from year to year.
Passion has chained me here.
