Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.
Songs of an Empty House
B
The chanting guest of kings,
A queen in wonderlands of song
Where every blossom sings.
I may put on a golden gown
And walk in sunny light,
Carrying in my hair the day,
And in my eyes the night.
The wistful ones and wise,
Who know the ruth of victory,
The joy of sacrifice.
I may be rich, I may be gay,
But all the crowns grow old—
The laurel withers and the bay
And dully rusts the gold.
With many queens and kings—
Oh, take the golden gown away,
For there are other things—
And I shall miss the love of babes
With flesh of rose and pearl,
The dewy eyes, the budded lips—
A boy, a little girl.
My father got me strong and straight and slim,
And I give thanks to him;
My mother bore me glad and sound and sweet,—
I kiss her feet.
And nevermore avails
To cast through me the ancient mould again,
Such women and men.
Sprang from my splendid sire,
No daughter for whose soul my mother’s flesh
Wrought raiment fresh.
Beat in my brain and blood,
Crying from all the generations past,
“Is this the last?”
Who made me, heart and head,
“Even the sunbeams falter, flicker and bend—
I am the end.”