| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920. 1920. |
| |
| Beauty’s Burden |
| | | Charles Wharton Stork |
| |
| |
| I AM weighed down beneath a clustering load | |
| Of fragrances, rich Sounds and lovely shapes, | |
| Like one who toils along a doubtful road | |
| With the glad wealth of purple-glinting grapes. | |
| I seem to stagger from an ancient city | 5 |
| With golden armor, swords, fierce jewels, rings,— | |
| Treasure that stirs deep memories with the pity | |
| Of fate-foiled heroes and forgotten kings. | |
| And then I dream I bear a love-ripe maiden, | |
| Whose folded eyelids flutter; and I thirst | 10 |
| To touch her throat, her lips, till, rapture-laden, | |
| It seems at length as if my heart would burst. | |
| Yet, Beauty-faint, I would not lose one shade, | |
Or note or scent that Beauty’s hand hath made.
The Farmer | |
| |
|
|
|
