FIREFLIES IN THE CORN
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A Woman taunts her Lover_Look at the little darlings in the corn!The rye is taller than you, who think yourselfSo high and mighty: look how its heads are borneDark and proud in the sky, like a number of knightsPassing with spears and pennants and manly scorn. And always likely!--Oh, if I could rideWith my head held high-serene against the skyDo you think I'd have a creature like you at my sideWith your gloom and your doubt that you love me? O darling rye,How I adore you for your simple pride! And those bright fireflies wafting in betweenAnd over the swaying cornstalks, just aboveAll their dark-feathered helmets, like little greenStars come low and wandering here for loveOf this dark earth, and wandering all serene--! How I adore you, you happy things, you dearsRiding the air and carrying all the timeYour little lanterns behind you: it cheersMy heart to see you settling and trying to climbThe cornstalks, tipping with fire their spears. All over the corn's dim motion, against the blueDark sky of night, the wandering glitter, the swarmOf questing brilliant things:--you joy, you trueSpirit of careless joy: ah, how I warmMy poor and perished soul at the joy of you! _The Man answers and she mocks_You're a fool, woman. I love you and you know I do!--Lord, take his love away, it makes him whine.And I give you everything that you want me to.--Lord, dear Lord, do you think he ever _can_ shine?
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