Poems By Arjava

THE hush of silver and the song of gold,

Enwound upon the midnight's axle, sway

The tide less heart, where centuries untold

Are fashioned to the swiftness of a day.

A silent dancer on the moving wave

Goes ankleted with silver of the night:

A rose-crowned singer of a sky-borne stave

Climbs goldenly the summit of delight;

Far poised upon the mountain-top of noon,

Thou signet felt by Form-enshrining mood,-

Or, deep-indrawn, beneath some midnight moon

A dream-dance weaved by silver solitude.