478
PARTISAN REVIEW
But stridently, not to be stopped, overstriding
The pastoral score, this clamorous photograph, montage
That stares from between the ordered bars and staves
And soundlessly, as
if
all the world were deaf,
Screams, and rolls its cretin head, and screams,
Crying all brides and grooms this present hour
In Christ's pity to leave off, to thrust apart,
And spill their smoking seed, like Onan's, on the ground.
Barbara Howes
"NO HIDING PLACE DOWN THERE"
The South softened and wooed me,
I soon lost
The fettered Northern glance
And covert search for warmth,
Letting time ramble past.
Musing,
I see the days
Float in the sun-drenched air,
Whose sly timelessness devours them
As sun the unmarked dew.
Tranquilly I look where
The land runs out on all sides to the sky,
Delights in its horizons,
A splendid and exhaustless tide;
And, deep, bears easily its warm expanse,
Carries the full intent of nature,-
Such tropic possibility,
Such lazy, latent, sure-blooming _growth-sympathy
From cotton's honest bolls to green
Frieze of wistaria on old walls.
Beyond,
Hills sown with timber till they meet the sky,
And cypresses' black grandeur; there
The blurr_ing smoke of night will rise
Pierced only by a bird's untimely call.
