For love of you
May I not turn away
Nor--weep.





* * * * *





JOHN DRINKWATER



MALEDICTION

Thrush, across the twilight
Here in the abbey close,
Pouring from your lilac-bough
Note on pebbled note,
Why do you sing so,
Making your song so bright.
Swelling to a throbbing curve
That brave little throat?

Soon, but a season brief,