Raiment

I cannot be tricked out in lovely clothes
All times, all days.
My mind has moods of hating pearl and rose
And jewel-blaze.
Nor is the body worthily attired
Unless the soul
Has visibly to nobleness aspired
And self-control.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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Suburban Dames

All day long
We sew fine muslin up for you to wear,
Muslin that women wove for you elsewhere,
A million strong.

Just like flames,
Insatiable, you eat up all our hours,
And sun and loves and talk and flowers,
Suburban dames.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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The Silent Dead

There's a little boy who lives next door
With hair like you,
Pale, pale hair and a rose-white skin
And his eyes are blue.
When I get a chance I peep at him,
Who is so like you,
Terribly like, my dead, my fair,
For he's dumb, too.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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Today when you went up the hill

Today when you went up the hill
And all that I could see
Was just a speck of black and white
Very far from me,
It seemed more strange than words can say,
The dot that I could see,
Really was the dearest thing
The world holds for me.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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A Bad Snap

He: That isn't you.
She: It's me, in my blue skirt
And scarlet coat and little golden shoes.
He: Not good enough.
She: Well, burn it if you choose
And take myself.
He: Yourself like skies and days
To praise and live in, worship and abuse.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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O little plum tree in the garden, you're

O little plum tree in the garden, you're
Aflower again,
With memories of a million springs and my
Brief years of pain.
O little tree, you have the power to find
Your youth again,
Grow young, while I grow old in tenderness
And wise in pain.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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The people have drunk the wine of peace

The people have drunk the wine of peace
In the streets of town.
They smile as they drift with hearts at rest
Uphill and down.
The people have drunk the wine of peace,
They are mad with joy.
Never again need they lie and fear
Death for a boy.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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This evening I'm alone.

This evening I'm alone.
I wish there'd be
Someone to come along
And talk to me.
Yet out of all my friends
There isn't one
I'd like to come and talk
To me alone.
But if a stranger came
With newer brain
We'd yarn until we felt
Alive again.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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I saw a flight of sparrows through the air

I saw a flight of sparrows through the air.
Oh, let us rise
Out of the weaknesses of our despair
To burning skies.
Let us take wings for flight from home and friends
And sweet desire.
From comfortable earth the soul ascends
To heavens of fire.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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Ours was a friendship in secret

Ours was a friendship in secret, my dear,
Stolen from fate.
I must be secret still, show myself calm
Early and late.
'Isn't it sad he was killed!' I must hear
With a smooth face.
'Yes, it is sad.' — Oh, my darling, my own,
My heart of grace.

poem by Lesbia Harford
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