The Answer

    I made my bed beneath the pines
    Where the sea washed the sandy bars;
    I heard the music of the winds,
    And blest the aureate face of Mars.
    All night a lilac splendor throve
    Above the heaven's shadowy verge;
    And in my heart the voice of love
    Kept music with the dreaming surge.

    A little maid was at my side,
    She slept, I scarcely slept at all;
    Until toward the morning-tide
    A dream possessed me with its thrall.
    She sweetly breathed; around my breast
    I felt her warmth like drowsy bliss,
    Then came the vision of unrest,
    I saw your face and felt your kiss.

    I woke and knew with what dismay
    She read my secret and surprise;
    She only said, "Again 'tis day!
    How red your cheeks, how bright your eyes!"

Edgar Lee Masters

Edgar Lee Masters was an American poet, biographer, and dramatist. Born in Kansas and raised in Illinois, Masters is best known for his collection of poems entitled "Spoon River Anthology" (1915), which is a series of epitaphs of residents of the fictional small town of Spoon River. His works reflect the everyday lives and frustrations of middle America. Masters also practiced law and wrote biographies for historical figures such as Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain.

Edgar Lee Masters

Henry Phipps

Edgar Lee Masters, Simple Poetry

France

Edgar Lee Masters, Simple Poetry

Recessional In Time Of War

Edgar Lee Masters, Simple Poetry

Draw The Sword, O Republic!

Edgar Lee Masters, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Question

    I

    The sea moans and the stars are bright,
    The leaves lisp 'neath a rolling moon.
    I shut my eyes against the night
    And make believe the time is June,
    The June that left us over-soon.

    This is the path and this the place
    We sat and watched the moving sea,
    And I the moonlight on your face.
    We were not happy, woe is me,
    Happiness is but memory!

    It seemeth, now that you are gone,
    My heart a measured pain doth keep:
    Are you now, as I am, alone?
    Do you make merry, do you weep?
    In whose arms are you now asleep?

Edgar Lee Masters

The Vision

    Of that dear vale where you and I have lain
    Scanning the mysteries of life and death
    I dreamed, though how impassable the space
    Of time between the present and the past!
    This was the vision that possessed my mind;
    I thought the weird and gusty days of March
    Had eased themselves in melody and peace.
    Pale lights, swift shadows, lucent stalks, clear streams,
    Cool, rosy eves behind the penciled mesh
    Of hazel thickets, and the huge feathered boughs
    Of walnut trees stretched singing to the blast;
    And the first pleasantries of sheep and kine;
    The cautioned twitterings of hidden birds;
    The flight of geese among the scattered clouds;
    Night's weeping stars and all the pageantries
    Of awakened life had blossomed i...

Edgar Lee Masters

In The Garden At The Dawn Hour

I arise in the silence of the dawn hour.
And softly steal out to the garden
Under the Favrile goblet of the dawning.
And a wind moves out of the south-land,
Like a film of silver,
And thrills with a far borne message
The flowers of the garden.
Poppies untie their scarlet hoods and wave them
To the south wind as he passes.
But the zinnias and calendulas,
In a mood of calm reserve, nod faintly
As the south wind whispers the secret
Of the dawn hour!

I stand in the silence of the dawn hour
In the garden,
As the star of morning fades.
Flying from scythes of air
The hare-bells, purples and golden glow
On the sand-hill back of the orchard
Race before the feet of the wind.
But clusters of oak-leaves over the yellow sand rim
Begin to flut...

Edgar Lee Masters

Caroline Branson

    With our hearts like drifting suns, had we but walked,
    As often before, the April fields till star - light
    Silkened over with viewless gauze the darkness
    Under the cliff, our trysting place in the wood,
    Where the brook turns! Had we but passed from wooing
    Like notes of music that run together, into winning,
    In the inspired improvisation of love!
    But to put back of us as a canticle ended
    The rapt enchantment of the flesh,
    In which our souls swooned, down, down,
    Where time was not, nor space, nor ourselves -
    Annihilated in love!
    To leave these behind for a room with lamps:
    And to stand with our Secret mocking itself,
    And hiding itself amid flowers and mandolins,
    Stared at by all between salad and coffee....

Edgar Lee Masters

The Awakening

When you lie sleeping; golden hair
Tossed on your pillow, sea shell pink
Ears that nestle, I forbear
A moment while I look and think
How you are mine, and if I dare
To bend and kiss you lying there.

        *        *        *        *        *

A Raphael in the flesh! Resist
I cannot, though to break your sleep
Is thoughtless of me - you are kissed
And roused from slumber dreamless, deep -
You rub away the slumber's mist,
You scold and almost weep.

        *        *        *        *        *

It is too bad to wake you so,
Just for a kiss. But when awake
You sing and dance, nor seem to know
You slept a sleep too deep to break
From which I roused you long ago
For nothing but my passion's sake -
What though your heart ...

Edgar Lee Masters

Victor Rafolski On Art

You dull Goliaths clothed in coats of blue,
Strained and half bursted by the swell of flesh,
Topped by Gorilla heads. You Marmoset,
Trained scoundrel, taught to question and ensnare,
I hate you, hate your laws and hate your courts.
Hands off, give me a chair, now let me be.
I'll tell you more than you can think to ask me.
I love this woman, but what is love to you?
What is it to your laws or courts? I love her.
She loves me, if you'd know. I entered her room -
She stood before me naked, shrank a little,
Cried out a little, calmed her sudden cry
When she saw amiable passion in my eyes -
She loves me, if you'd know. I saw in her eyes
More in those moments than whole hours of talk
From witness stands exculpate could make clear
My innocence.

        But...

Edgar Lee Masters