1914, and Other Poems

<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</SPAN></span></p> <div class="poem"><span class="i0 headstyle">THE BUSY HEART</span></div> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Now that we've done our best and worst, and parted,<br/></span> <span class="i1">I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted)<br/></span> <span class="i1">I'll think of Love in books, Love without end;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Women with child, content; and old men sleeping;<br/></span> <span class="i1">And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping;<br/></span> <span class="i1">And the young heavens, forgetful after rain;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And evening hush, broken by homing wings;<br/></span> <span class="i1">And Song's nobility, and Wisdom holy,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things,<br/></span> <span class="i1">Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly,<br/></span> <span class="i0">One after one, like tasting a sweet food.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I have need to busy my heart with quietude.<br/></span></div> </div> <hr class="large" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />