The Grave-Tree / Bliss Carman

===The Grave-Tree---

Let me have a scarlet maple For the grave-tree at my head, With the quiet sun behind it, In the years when I am dead.

Let me have it for a signal, Where the long winds stream and stream, Clear across the dim blue distance, Like at horn blown in at dream;

Scarlet when the April vanguard Bugles up the laggard Spring, Scarlet when the bannered Autumn Marches by unwavering.

It will comfort me with honey When the shining rifts and showers Sweep across the purple valley And bring back the forest flowers.

It will be my leafy cabin, Large enough when June returns And I hear the golden thrushes Flute and hesitate by turns.

And in fall, some yellow morning, When the stealthy frost has come, Leaf by leaf it will befriend me As with comrades going home. Let me have the Silent Valley And the hill that fronts the east, So that I can watch the morning Redden and the stars released.

Leave me in the Great Lone Country, For I shall not be afraid With the shy moose and the beaver There within my scarlet shade.

I would sleep, but not too soundly, Where the sunning partridge drums, Till the crickets hush before him When the Scarlet Hunter comes.

That will be in warm September, In the stillness of the year, When the river-blue is deepest And the other world is near.

When the apples burn their reddest And the corn is in the sheaves, I shall stir and waken lightly At a footfall in the leaves.

It will be the Scarlet Hunter Come to tell me time is done; On the idle hills for ever There will stand the idle sun.

There the wind will stay to whisper Many wonders to the reeds; But I shall not fear to follow Where my Scarlet Hunter leads.

I shall know him in the darkling Murmur of the river bars, While his feet are on the mountains Treading out the smouldering stars.

I shall know him, in the sunshine Sleeping in my scarlet tree, Long before he halts beside it Stooping down to summon me.

Then fear not, my friends, to leave me In the boding autumn vast; There are many things to think of When the roving days are past.

Leave me by the scarlet maple, When the journeying shadows fail, Waiting till the Scarlet Hunter Pass upon the endless trail.

