Memories II Places

    Places I love come back to me like music, Hush¹ me and heal me when I am very tired； I see the oak woods at Saxton's flaming In a flare² of crimson³ by the frost newly fired； And I am thirsty for the spring in the valley As for a kiss ungiven and long desired.

    I know a bright world of snowy hills at Boonton, A blue and white dazzling light on everything one sees, The ice-covered branches of the hemlocks⁴ sparkle Bending low and tinkling⁵ in the sharp thin breeze, And iridescent⁶ crystals fall and crackle on the snow-crust With the winter sun drawing cold blue shadows from the trees.

    Violet now, in veil on veil of evening The hills across from Cromwell grow dreamy and far； A wood-thrush is singing soft as a viol In the heart of the hollow where the dark pools are； The primrose⁷ has opened her pale yellow flowers And heaven is lighting⁸ star after star.

    Places I love come back to me like music —— Mid-ocean, midnight, the waves buzz drowsily⁹； In the ship's deep churning the eerie¹⁰ phosphorescence Is like the souls of people who were drowned at sea, And I can hear a man's voice, speaking, hushed, insistent¹¹, At midnight, in mid-ocean, hour on hour to me.