Continuity

Winnowing chaff from new-cut heads

Of grain, the girls toss up from trays,

Flat-woven from the grasses there,

The seeds in ancient ways

And let the antique wind blow out

The husks in clouds of gold,

Then bow back down to seek more grain

As in the days of old,

For nothing changes in the dance

Each time the story’s told.

Elixir

They all were young and fair who sat

Under the rustling summer trees,

The copper beeches, lindens; these

Broad green allées of hazel that

Gave shade and silver glints of sun

In rhythm with their part-songs, airs,

And with their sweet dallied affairs

While laughing brooks made haste to run

Away, as time is wont to do,

And youth, but these stayed young and fair

Forever in their summer air

Because their songs of love rang true