CONSTANCE DAVIES WOODROW
To Dr. S. P. Feuster
with best wishes from
Constance Davies Woodrow
1930 [unnumbered page]
I who had thought to love you with such joy, Fall strangely into all my maiden-ways, And, with the hush of twilight on my heart, Stand mute and shy with unuplifted gaze. For you are one with all the transient things, That stab the heart with sorrow keenly-sweet: A spray of blossom, white against the dusk; A drift of fragrance wafted on the street. The gleam of bluebells in a forest aisle; The crying splendor of a tree in Fall; The lingering glory of an afterglow; The robin’s first enraptured mating-call. A crescent moon, with one attendant star, Low-poised above a mountain’s purple height; The throbbing anguish of a violin Across the stillness of a summer night.
Of these poems 250 copies have been printed by the Tower Printing and Publishing company, Limited, Toronto, for private circulation. Copyright by Constance Davies Woodrow. [unnumbered page]
Had we but met in those more glamorous days When far-famed Merlin wrought his wizardry And fairy people walked our mortal ways, I would have sought their aid, that I might be For your dear sake a small girl-child again, With you for sire.—What dream could me more sweet?— I could have worshipped you, unchided, then, And knelt in listening wonder at your feet; I could have leaned my head against your own, To whisper childhood secrets in your ear, And walked with you in comradeship, alone, To see the year’s first hyacinths appear. But since I needs must play a woman’s part, I veil my face and fortify my heart.
I look on you with fear, who can subdue The dark, tempestuous waters of my soul And leave them flowing deep and calm and blue, With every jutting rock and threatening shoal Made plainly visible; I fear that power That brings such sudden peace to my distress, And lends to every leaf and every flower A mystical and poignant loveliness; That stays my feet and turns away my gaze From heights that long have lured me from afar, And sheds across my clouded nights and days The radiance of an unfamiliar star. Who are you, that the gods invoke your aid In re-creating what themselves have made? [unnumbered page]
I can never lose you now, Thought you struggle long; I have caught and prisoned you In a web of song. Tone of voice and turn of head, Eyes of misty blue, Pensive mouth and speaking hands— I have all of you. Little tricks of thought and speech, Hopes and dreams as well; Even little secret things That you never tell. I have prisoned all of you Out of reach of Time, Out of reach of Change or Death, In a web of rhyme. [unnumbered page]