Identifier: puertoricanother00jame (find matches)
Title: Puerto Rican and other impressions
Year: 1903 (1900s)
Authors: James, William, pseud
Subjects:
Publisher: New York, London, G.P. Putnam's sons
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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secretly ; Suns and seas zealously ; Ghost-moons masquerade for me. I, the Inscrutable, Lurk low in the shadows,— And near thee ! Ah, nearer 20 Than thought could prefigure !Lifes bud is my blossom;Earths love an aromaBrave in my nostrils !Yet Discontent shrewdlyGnaws at my vitals;For, spite of this greatness,A Greater enthralls me ! 21 IN PACE When half-gods go, the gods arrive, WHERE the tree fallethThere let it lie !Where the past sickens There let it die!Some sunshine still may bless,Kind memories still caress—Some dirges sigh. Where the rose droopethLet it decay ; Some little fragrance Yet may delay; Some little dream of good, Dimly misunderstood, Yet may have sway. Where the dream falters There let it sleep ; Where the joy cloudens Leave it to weep ; Life has no time for rueing; Pallid Regret is undoing All it would keep. Where Love is shattered There let it fall; 22 Sorrows deceiving Who would recall?Yet from their ashes dumbNew life in life may come :— Cover them all! 23
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I BREATH ED the breathing of the roseThat all in sweetness did uncloseWith graciousness her lips to me;But ah, the rose did not betrayOne secret of her soul that day—Nor will she any day to be. I heard the murmur of a sighFrom sleeping infant lips that nigh To heaven and heavenly folk did press ;It echoed to me mysteriesBeyond the earthly stars and seas,— But not one mystery would confess. I asked the mountains from their blueTo whisper me some message new Learned in most lofty converse ; theyWere silent as the sky that errsIn choosing such interpreters ; Thus baffled, mocked, in dull dismay, 24 I questioned my own soul; besoughtSome revelation how it wrought, And why, and whose the blame of doleMy soul, aghast with impotence.Did bid me, deaf to consequence. Go ask the Soul that planned the soul. 25 POPPIES A WORLD of poppies! each a world,With satellites of dew;Fond suns to slave for them, sea-windsTo fan the whole day through. They queen it royally, in robes Of satin, dashed wit

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