Poem by Swinburne Hale
Beatrice liked this poem, saying 8/11/1919: “that Scituate-in-winter one I love so much, about the sea & the stars & ‘the measure of his speech.’”
Some Stars strode by my house last night.
The Sun knocked at my door to-day.
Outside the snow is walking, right
Across my Private Way,
With none to say him Nay.
Some paces down my path the Sea
Is tumbling in his tousled bed,
And singing like a lusty He
With victuals comforted,
With country wine and bread.
I will not pull my curtain down
To keep the Sun or Stars without;
I will not with a musty frown
Shovel the Snow about,
Nor tell him to get out.
But I will go and walk along
The little circle of my beach,
And tell the Sea I like his song,
And try if I can reach
The measure of his speech.