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Disguised Post by :astreem Category :Poems Author :Helen Hay Whitney Date :October 2011 Read :2899

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The beggar thoughts pass down the lanes of day,
And on the thorns that are the hours I find
Their tatters and their rags. Infirm and blind,
They faded in the void, and all the way
Mouthed senseless jeers at me. I dared not pray
For wisdom from these fools who throng the mind
And leave no gifts but bitterness behind.
Chin upon hand, I watched, nor bade them stay.

Then wearily and indolently glanced
Where the thorns fluttered with their flags, and, lo,
Fragments of cloth of silver gleamed and danced
In the late sun, and linen white as snow
Among the beggar thoughts, with lowered eyes,
Princes and kings had wandered in disguise.

(The end)
Helen Hay Whitney's poem: Disguised

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On The White Road On The White Road

On The White Road
There's a white, white road lies under the swinging moon, Stretched from the black of the deep to the black of the deep, And midway the graveyard lies, with its leaves a-croon, The only sound of the world, like a dream in sleep. There's a white, white grave lies under the graveyard trees, Hung on the road as a single pearl on a thread, And silence waits, beast crouched, on the rim of the breeze, That moans where the only man in the world lies dead.(The end)Helen Hay Whitney's poem: On The White

The Pattern Of The Earth The Pattern Of The Earth

The Pattern Of The Earth
The pattern of the earth, so wonderful, Is, more than myrtle, very dear to me. Across the avenue of limes I see A little mist by ghosts made magical, Tossing across the hills, more beautiful Than the deep eyes of amber women, free Of shame and of disdain, on some far sea Swept by trade-winds the sun makes lyrical. There is no air the mind may not recall, Blown from the violet-beds of Greece; and all The moons who drop their shattered petals here Live from the days which hid Semiramis.