Did I curse God and rave

When they came shrinkingly to tell me 'twas

A witless child?

No ... I ... I only gave

One cry ... just one ... I think ... because ...

You know ... he never smiled.

[Pg 51]

[Pg 51]

THE WINDS

The East Wind is a Bedouin,

And Nimbus is his steed;

Out of the dusk with the lightning's thin

Blue scimitar he flies afar,

Whither his rovings lead.

The Dead Sea waves

And Egypt caves

Of mummied silence laugh

When he mounts to quench the Siroc's stench

And to wrench

From his clutch the tyrant's staff.

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