THE HUNDRED AND ONE HARLEQUINS - 1922 - CONTENTS - PAGE TEN S ERENAD . E S 7 THE IT ALIAANI R . 13 FABLES . . 18 CHURC A H N D STAGE . . 20 I VALSEE STUDIANTIN . A . 22 ONEH UNDRE A D ND ONEH ARLEQU ISNESL ECTIONS-i. A PROSL ANDLADY . 24 ii. AT BREAKFAS . T 24 iii. READIN T G H E PAPER . 24 iv. IN THE TRAIN . 25 V. AT THE TAILORS . 25 vi. AT THE TELEPHO . N . E . . 26 vii. PORTRA O I F T MR. G. F. M. AIREY A SECRETAR . Y . 26 xi. FROM A HILLTOP . 27 THE H OCHZE O IT F HERCULES . . 28 L ET IN ARCADIAO, M N . 33 Two CLOWNSPS YCHOLO . G Y 42 THRE V E A RIATIO O N N S A THEM BY E GEORGPEE ELE . 48 MRS. H. . 53 WEEK-ENDS - 54 THE BIRD-ACTORS . 57 Two VARIATIO O N N S T HEM O E U S T OF ZARATHUSTRA-i. LAUGHINLGIO NSW ILLC OME . 58 ii. PARADVEI RTUE F S O R A DYINGG LADIATOR . 63 DR. DONN A E N D GARGANT U IS A T CANTO . 69 A MARCHPA ST A T THE PYRAMIDS 77 THE N EPTUNHEO TEL . . . . 85 TO ADA LEVERSON SERENADES S IGH soft, sigh softly, rain-thrilled leaves, let not your careless hands stem the gold wind I , Let not your greensleeves swim in its breath, as water flowing lest your thin hands make gurgle down the crystal hills the gaudy suns pavilions whence he distils those showered scents whose virtue all true turtles croon beneath their swaying palaces. Sing low, then, turtles, Sigh soft, swift wind, and, fountains, cease your flutings. Melulla, now, lean on your balcony look down My strings shall sing. NSWER again you burning streams, A Nor bend your flame, nor melt your snows, It is not only straw that burns To feel the hot sun look on it, And every phcenix is not dead. 0PEN your window. Let the air flow in alive with waterfalls of flashing wings, so can your fever know a cooling touch I and feel the feathers of my song as such. 7 Is all silent in your room Then come down among the dew-soft lawns, and if I knew the stairway for your feet should lie below it in the luscious grass and watch your coming, as one waits to feel cooler from showering of falls that play, like you, among the burning rocks. Then with fulness in my arms ripest weight down-bowed from trees to fall through suns heat to the green laughing lawns more soft than water -full with ripeness, tasted, fired, I shall journey through the heat with my load of living fruit, and if I do not like the lawns can lay it on a yielding cloud whose proud battlements will melt and run, as water, at your burning touch. I SEE no breath upon the windows water, hear no feet below the shining trees must I never let the music slacken, fold its wings away, sink on my knees Will the leaves tremble till I know their tune in fiery praise of all the licking tongues that lap the crystal darkest night has laid to light her feet along the fickle walls unseen, but built again when daylight comes In between these trembling leaves and underneath the liquid light another harvest has its sheaves, the gold heads of the foam shine bright, waves, as houses built on cloud, crumble to nothing as they sail, the windows where you once were proud are raining water, fence and rail that latticed all the roads of sight are twisted rainbows, broken swords. 8 The way is open, where you lie, I see the clouds climb down the sky and lay you in the frothy waves that run to meet you, as your slaves. V OW wind, soft light, and the L crumbling waves lay down their fleeces at the mouth of caves the lion sands become clouds and beds, windows in the foam, cool roof for our heads. Here are new seconds in a moments bliss to add a paradise to our kiss...