Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912.

Richard Hovey 1864–1900

Richard Hovey

246 Launa Dee

WEARY, oh, so weary

With it all!

Sunny days or dreary—

How they pall!

Why should we be heroes,

Launa Dee,

Striving to no winning?

Let the world be Zero’s!

As in the beginning

Let it be.

What good comes of toiling,

When all ’s done?

Frail green sprays for spoiling

Of the sun;

Laurel leaf or myrtle,

Love or fame—

Ah, what odds what spray, sweet?

Time, that makes life fertile,

Makes its blooms decay, sweet,

As they came.

Lie here with me dreaming,

Cheek to cheek,

Lithe limbs twined and gleaming,

Brown and sleek;

Like two serpents coiling

In their lair.

Where ’s the good of wreathing

Sprays for Time’s despoiling?

Let me feel your breathing

In my hair.

You and I together—

Was it so?

In the August weather

Long ago!

Did we kiss and fellow,

Side by side,

Till the sunbeams quickened

From our stalks great yellow

Sunflowers, till we sickened

There and died?

Were we tigers creeping

Through the glade

Where our prey lay sleeping,

Unafraid,

In some Eastern jungle?

Better so.

I am sure the snarling

Beasts could never bungle

Life as men do, darling,

Who half know.

Ah, if all of life, love,

Were the living!

Just to cease from strife, love,

And from grieving;

Let the swift world pass us,

You and me,

Stilled from all aspiring,—

Sinai nor Parnassus

Longer worth desiring,

Launa Dee!

Just to live like lilies

In the lake!

Where no thought nor will is,

To mistake!

Just to lose the human

Eyes that weep!

Just to cease from seeming

Longer man and woman!

Just to reach the dreaming

And the sleep!