Christopher Morley Poems
The Old Swimmer
I OFTEN wander on the beach
Where once, so brown of limb,
The biting air, the roaring surf
Summoned me to swim.
I see my old abundant youth
Whee combers lean and spill,
And though I taste the foam no more
Other swimmers will.
Oh, good exultant strength to meet
The arching wall of green,
To break the crystal, swirl, emerge
Dripping, taut, and clean.
To climb the moving hilly blue,
To dive in ecstasy
And feel the salty chill embrace
Arm and rib and knee.
What brave and vanished laughter then
And tingling thighs to ...
On Naming A House
WHEN I a householder became
I had to give my house a name.
I thought I'd call it 'Poplar Trees,'
Or 'Widdershins' or 'Velvet Bees,'
Or 'Just Beneath a Star.'
Or 'As You Like It,' 'If You Please,'
Or 'Nicotine' or 'Bread and Cheese,'
'Full Moon' or 'Doors Ajar.'