THE WEBER LITERARY JOURNAL Three Poems FROM SONGS OF ADMIRATION There are so few ways left to me To give you praise, Somehow I cannot sing your beauty In all the olden ways. A flower, a song, A poem These have nearness that isn't long since gone They are as stone. I'd rather go my way Not praising you, Day after day The ways to say I love you are so few. STABILITY For E. A. Let spring come back to me with all her gifts, Hyacinths as water-fresh and pale as drifts Of the fast melting snow, and little sudden winds That catch their breath with wonder at the ways of earth Wonder that thins And loses itself over a hill in a tulip cup. Let spring come Back to me in all her thousand ways and I shall laugh And say to one Or another who stands near: "See? What is most Fickle is most true." And turn my eyes in mockery up and down the street And look for you. 6 THE WEBER LITERARY JOURNAL A SONG And here I sit all day Spinning songs for you What will you give me for their fire And their dew? I weave a song of hyacinths And grey rain mist What will you give me for my heart. A kiss? All day I fashion loveliness Nor even see the sky is blue You will not give me kisses? Well then, Just say I sang for you! Madeline Reeder. 7