Michael Field Poems

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1.
July

THERE is a month between the swath and sheaf
When grass is gone
And corn still grassy;
When limes are massy
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2.
Maidenhair

Plato of the clear, dreaming eye and brave
Imaginings, conceived, withdrawn from light,
The hollow of man's heart even as a cave.
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3.
The Hayfield

'The last load is carried,
The meadow is mown;
Then why on the scythe-track
Still wanderest lone?
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4.
Ah Me, If I Grew Sweet To Man

Ah me, if I grew sweet to man
It was but as a rose that can
No longer keep the breath that heaves
And swells among its folded leaves.
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5.
And On My Eyes Dark Sleep By Night

Come, dark-eyed Sleep, thou child of Night,
Give me thy dreams, thy lies;
Lead me through the horny portal white
The pleasure day denies.
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6.
Morning-Rains

I HEARD a morning thrush salute the rains
That beat in soft, prolific rush,
Armies of angry dewdrops on the panes,
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7.
Second Thoughts

I thought of leaving her for a day
In town, it was such an iron winter
At Durdans, the garden frosty clay,
The woods as dry as any splinter,
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8.
September

BUT why is Nature at such heavy pause,
And the earth slowly ceasing to revolve?
Only the lapping tides abide their laws,
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9.
Where The Blessed Feet Have Trod

NOT alone in Palestine those blessed Feet have trod,
For I catch their print,
I have seen their dint
On a plot of chalky ground,
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10.
A Girl

A Girl,
Her soul a deep-wave pearl
Dim, lucent of all lovely mysteries;
A face flowered for heart's ease,
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