Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 3 — Content

CONTENT

When I behold how some pursue Fame that is Care’s embodiment, Or fortune, whose false face looks true,-- An humble home with sweet content Is all I ask for me and you.

An humble home, where pigeons coo, Whose path leads under breezy lines Of frosty-berried cedars to A gate, one mass of trumpet-vines, Is all I ask for me and you.

A garden, which, all summer through, The roses old make redolent, And morning-glories, gay of hue, And tansy with its homely scent, Is all I ask for me and you.

An orchard, that the pippins strew, From whose bruised gold the juices spring;

A vineyard, where the grapes hang blue, Wine-big and ripe for vintaging, Is all I ask for me and you.

A lane, that leads to some far view Of forest or of fallow-land, Bloomed o’er of rose and meadow-rue, Each with a bee in its hot hand, Is all I ask for me and you.

At morn, a pathway deep with dew, And birds that vary time and tune;

At eve, a sunset avenue, And whippoorwills that haunt the moon, Is all I ask for me and you.

Dear heart, with wants so small and few, And faith, that’s better far than gold, A lowly friend; a child or two, To care for us when we are old, Is all I ask for me and you.

OCTOBER