Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
NumbersLouis Golding
T
Beneath the shadow of five trees.
Three sheep!
Five old sycamores!
(The noon is very full of sleep.
The noon’s a shepherd kind and still.
The noon’s a shepherd takes his ease
Beneath the shadow of five trees,
Five old sycamores.)
Three sheep graze on the low hill.
Down in the grass, in twos and fours,
Cows are munching in the field.
Three sheep graze on the low hill:
Bless them, Lord, to give me wool.
Cows are munching in the field:
Bless them that their teats be full.
Bless the sheep and cows to yield
Wool to keep my children warm,
Milk that they should grow therefrom.
Beneath five sycamores.
Cows are munching in the field,
All in twos and fours.
There are nine-and-twenty crows,
Croaking to the blue sky roof
Fifteen hundred ancient woes.
Six owls cloaked with age and dream—
In a cracked deserted house,
Six owls wait upon a beam,
Wait for the nocturnal mouse.
There are fourteen stacks of hay.
Lord, I pray
Keep my golden goods from harm,
Six owls, nine-and-twenty crows,
Three sheep grazing on the hill
Beneath five sycamores,
Fat cows munching in a field,
All in twos and fours—
Fat cows munching in a field,
Fourteen shining stacks of hay.
Where beyond the window-frames
Glows the sweet geranium—
At a table in a room
My three children play their games
Till their father-poet come.
Stop a moment, listen, wait
Till a father-poet come—
Lovely ones of lovely names,
He shall not come late.
Six owls, nine-and-twenty crows,
Fifteen hundred ancient woes,
Three sheep grazing on the hill
Beneath five sycamores,
Fat cows munching in a field
All in twos and fours—
Fourteen shining stacks of hay,
My three lovely children, one
Mother laughing like the sun,
Sweetheart laughing like the sun
When the baby laughters run.
Sweetheart laughing like the sun,
Now the goal I sought is won,
Sweet, my song is done.