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It is Good to be Alive
- Syracuse University Press
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T H E WOR L D | 47 It is Good to be Alive It is good to be alive when the trees shine green, And the steep red hills stand up against the sky; Big sky, blue sky, with flying clouds between— It is good to be alive and see the clouds drive by! It is good to be alive when the strong winds blow, The strong, sweet winds blowing straightly off the sea; Great sea, green sea, with swinging ebb and flow— It is good to be alive and see the waves roll free! The Changeless Year—Southern California Doth Autumn remind thee of sadness? And Winter of wasting and pain? Midsummer, of joy that was madness? Spring, of hope that was vain? Do the Seasons fly fast at thy laughter? Do the Seasons lag slow if thou weep, Till thou long’st for the land lying after The River of Sleep?32 Come here, where the West lieth golden In the light of an infinite sun, Where Summer doth Winter embolden Till they reign here as one! Here the Seasons tread soft and steal slowly; A moment of question and doubt— Is it Winter? Come faster!—come wholly!— And Spring rusheth out! We forget there are tempests and changes; We forget there are days that are drear; In a dream of delight, the soul ranges Through the measureless year. Still the land is with blosoms enfolden, Still the sky burnest blue in its deeps; Time noddeth, ’mid poppies all golden, And memory sleeps. Where Memory Sleeps—Rondeau Where memory sleeps the soul doth rise, Free of that past where sorrow lies, And storeth against future ills The courage of the constant hills, The comfort of the quiet skies. ...