The Maid's Thought

Robinson Jeffers 1887 (Allegheny) – 1962 (Carmel-by-the-Sea)



Why listen, even the water is sobbing for something.
The west wind is dead, the waves
Forget to hate the cliff, in the upland canyons
Whole hillsides burst aglow
With golden broom. Dear how it rained last month,
And every pool was rimmed
With sulphury pollen dust of the wakening pines.
Now tall and slender suddenly
The stalks of purple iris blaze by the brooks,
The pencilled ones on the hill;
This deerweed shivers with gold, the white globe-tulips
Blow out their silky bubbles,
But in the next glen bronze-bells nod, the does
Scalded by some hot longing
Can hardly set their pointed hoofs to expect
Love but they crush a flower;
Shells pair on the rock, birds mate, the moths fly double.
O it Is time for us now
Mouth kindling mouth to entangle our maiden bodies
To make that burning flower.

Submitted by Holt

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

44 sec read
109

Quick analysis:

Scheme AXXXXXXXXXXXXAXBXXXB X
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 801
Words 148
Stanzas 2
Stanza Lengths 20, 1

Robinson Jeffers

John Robinson Jeffers was an American poet, known for his work about the central California coast. more…

All Robinson Jeffers poems | Robinson Jeffers Books

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