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More `Karle Wilson Baker` Poems
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Some days my thoughts are just cocoons- all cold, and dull and blind,
They hang from dripping branches in the grey woods of my mind;
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Dropp'd feather from the wings of God
My little songs and snatches are,
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I was The Gateway. Here they came, and passed,
The homespun centaurs with their arms of steel
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Classic Poems
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Where dwells the spirit of the Bard--what sky
Persuades his daring wing,--
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FITTING perfumes to prepare,
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We are happy all the time
Even when we fight:
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Ribbons of the Year—
Multitude Brocade—
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