Thou hast not seen black fingers pick
White cotton when the bloom is thick.
Nor heard black throats in harmony;
Nor hast thou sat on stones that lie
Flat on the earth, that once did rise
To hide proud kings from common eyes.
Thou hast not seen plains full of bloom
Where green things had such little room
They pleased the eye like fairer flowers —
Sweet Stay-at-Home, all these long hours.
Sweet Well-content, sweet Love-one-place,
Sweet, simple maid, bless thy dear face;
For thou hast made more homely stufl"
Nurture thy gentle self enough;
I love thee for a heart that's kind —
Not for the knowledge in thy mind.
71



WiUiam A FLEETING PASSION

H. Davies

Thou shalt not laugh, thou shalt not romp,

Let's grimly kiss with bated breath;
As quietly and solemnly

As Life when it is kissing Death.
Now in the silence of the grave,

My hand is squeezing that soft breast;
While thou dost in such passion lie,

It mocks me with its look of rest.
But when the morning comes at last.
And we must part, our passions cold,
You'll think of some new feather, scarf

To buy with my small piece of gold;
And I'll be dreaming of green lanes.
Where little things with beating hearts
Hold shining eyes between the leaves,

Till men with horses pass, and carts.
72



THE BIRD OF PARADISE William

H. Davies
Here comes Kate Summers, who, for gold,

Takes any man to bed:
" You knew my friend, Nell Barnes," she said;
" You knew Nell Barnes — she's dead.
" Nell Barnes was bad on all you men.
Unclean, a thief as well;
Yet all my life I have not found

A better friend than Nell.
