Gladys Cromwell

From “Songs of the Dust”

NO doubt this active will,

So bravely steeped in sun,

This will has vanquished Death

And foiled oblivion.

But this indifferent clay,

This fine experienced hand,

So quiet, and these thoughts

That all unfinished stand,

Feel death as though it were

A shadowy caress;

And win and wear a frail

Archaic wistfulness.