THE DESERT. But year by year I wait and wait and wait, Yet still I hear the stern decree of Fate; "No rain, No rain!" through white-hot noons a-glare. O God, remember I was dear to Thee In green, glad mornings ere I felt Thy frown. A gray-haired virgin, still unwooed, unwed, The heart within it but a dusty stone. O, all Thy gifts are held beyond my grasp; No rain, no dew, from cruel sky or sea; "God, give me children, or else let me die!" DOVE OF THE DESERT. Dove of the desert, so wild and so free, What nook in this waste is dear unto thee? Around you I see the dead cactus stand, And brown, withered weeds on hot hills of sand. Here yawns the red gully, here burns the dead plain, Here hang the sharp rocks, all thirsty for rain. O dove of the desert, so wild and so free, What spot in these barrens is blest unto thee? Dove of the desert, around thee are spread, In the alkali dust, the bones of the dead. No spring can be seen, no blossom uprears Through the bayonet-bush with its porcupine spears. No cloud cools the brow of the hot, fevered plain, Unbaptized, unblest, with the patter of rain. O dove of the desert, as meek as a child, What charm brings thee here to this death-haunted wild? Dove of the desert, you find a sweet rest When sinking at night to sleep on your nest. The desert is barren, and sterile and hot, Yet it gives to your heart a consecrate spot. I traverse great cities, yet I find no home, On the crowded streets I in solitude roam. There out in the desert, you mate with your own,Dove of the desert, I fare forth alone. PASADENA. Pasadena, charming town, There the tendrils, boughs and twigs In the dallying ocean breeze Morning glories float and flow Blood-hued clusters tempt the bees; Like a flamed-robed Witch of Endor Yon hibiscus shines in splendor. PASADENA. Green pomegranates' blossom-stars Blue solanum, red tacoma, Here are scattered on her slopes MOUNTAIN BROOK. Mountain brook, wild mountain brook, Hear the murmur of the pines, Pause, O, pause before you leap |