William Vaughn Moody

PURGATORIO, CANTO V. / I / BUONCONTE

Grey drizzling mists the moorlands drape, / Rain whitens the dead sea, / From headland dim to sullen cape

(After seeing at Boston the statue of Robert Gould Shaw, killed while storming Fort Wagner, July 18, 1863, at the head of the first enlisted negro regiment, the 54th Massachusetts.) / I / Before the solemn bronze Saint Gaudens made

Only two patient eyes to stare / Out of the canvas. All the rest-- / The warm green gown, the small hands pressed

A mile behind is Gloucester town / Where the fishing fleets put in, / A mile ahead the land dips down

At last the bird that sang so long / In twilight circles, hushed his song: / Above the ancient square

This string upon my harp was best beloved: / I thought I knew its secrets through and through; / Till an old man, whose young eyes lightened blue

To-night her lids shall lift again, slow, soft, with vague desire, / And lay about my breast and brain their hush of spirit fire, / And I shall take the sweet of pain as the laborer his hire.

Nay, move not! Sit just as you are, / Under the carved wings of the chair. / The hearth-glow sifting through your hair

I wonder can this be the world it was / At sunset? I remember the sky fell / Green as pale meadows, at the long street-ends,