Great poems by the masters

[B. Royce 0]

From the late 1800's, William de Lancey Ellwanger's

To Jessie's Dancing Feet

How, as a spider's web is spun

With subtle grace and art,

Do thy light footsteps, every one,

Cross and recross my heart!

Now here, now there, and to and fro,

Their winding mazes turn;

Thy fairy feet so lightly go

They seem the earth to spurn.

Yet every step leaves there behind

A something, in thy dance,

That serves to tangle up my mind

And all my soul entrance.

How, as the web the spiders spin

And wanton breezes blow,

Thy soft and filmy laces in

A swirl around thee flow!

The cobweb 'neath thy chin that's crossed

Remains demurely put,

While those are ever whirled and tossed

That show thy saucy foot;

That show the silver grayness of

Thy stockings' silken sheen,

And mesh of snowy skirts above

The silver that is seen.

How, as the spider, from his web,

Dangles in light suspense,

Do thy sweet measures' flow and ebb

Sway my enraptured sense!

Thy fluttering lace, thy dainty airs,

Thy every charming pose----

There are not more alluring snares

To bind me with than those.

Swing on! Sway on! With easy grace

Thy witching steps repeat!

The love I dare not---to thy face---

I offer at thy feet.

[B. Royce 0]

Here is a rationally healthy tree poem from the 19th century.

What do We Plant?, by Henry Abbey (1842-1911)

What do we plant when we plant the tree?

We plant the ship which will cross the sea.

We plant the mast to carry the sails;

We plant the planks to withstand the gales---

The keel, the keelson, the beam, the knee;

We plant the ship when we plant the tree.

What do we plant when we plant the tree?

We plant the houses for you and me.

We plant the rafters, the shingles, the floors,

We plant the studding, the lath, the doors,

The beams and siding, all parts that be;

We plant the house when we plant the tree.

What do we plant when we plant the tree?

A thousand things that we daily see;

We plant the spire that out-towers the crag,

We plant the staff of our country's flag,

We plant the shade, from the hot sun free;

We plant all these when we plant the tree.

[B. Royce 0]

Then there's this nice piece by Monica Shannon.

Country trucks

Big trucks with apples

And big trucks with grapes

Thundering through the mountains

While every wild thing gapes.

Thundering through the valley,

Like something just let loose,

Big trucks with oranges

For city kids juice.

Big trucks with peaches,

And big trucks with pears,

Frightening all the rabbits

And giving squirrels gray hairs.

Yet, when city children

Sit down to plum or prune,

They know more trucks are coming

As surely as the moon.

[B. Royce 0]

And from Langston Hughes,

City

In the morning the city

Spreads its wings

Making a song

In stone that sings.

In the evening the city

Goes to bed

Hanging lights

About its head.

[B. Royce 0]

From Selma Robinson this pretty ditty:

Bus Ride

I hailed the bus and I went for a ride

And I rode on top and not inside

As I'd done on every other day:

The air was so sweet and the city so gay

The sun was so hot and the air so mellow

And the shops were bursting with green and yellow.

The shops were the brightest I'd ever seen---

Full of yellow and pink and green,

Yellow in this and green in that,

A dress or a 'kerchief, a tie or a hat,

And I wanted to dance and I wanted to sing

And I bought a flower because it was spring.

[B. Royce 0]

What better than this for summer/

The Ice-Cream Man, by Rachel Field

When summer's in the city,

And brick's a blaze of heat,

The Ice-Cream Man with his little cart

Goes trundling down the street.

Beneath his round umbrella,

Oh, what a joyful sight,

To see him fill the cones with mounds

Of cooling brown or white;

Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry,

Or chilly things to drink

From bottles full of frosty-fizz,

Green, orange, white, or pink.

His cart might be a flower bed

Of roses and sweet peas,

The way the children gather round

As thick as honeybees.

[B. Royce 0]

Another bright piece from Rachel

City Lights, by Rachel Field

Into the endless dark

The lights of the buildings shine,

Row upon twinkling row,

Line upon glistening line.

Up and up they mount

Till the tallest seems to be

The topmost taper set

On a towering Christmas tree.