The First Grass

1887 –

1962

It rained three autumn days; then close to frost
Under clear starlight the night shivering was.
The dawn rose cold and colorless as glass,
And when we wakened rains and clouds were lost.
The ocean surged and shouted stormy-tossed.
I went down to companion him. Alas,
What faint voice by the way? The sudden grass
Cried with thin lips as I the valley crossed,
Saying blade by blade, “Although the warm sweet rain
Awakened us, this world is all too cold.
We never dreamed it thus.”—”Your champion bold
Is risen,” I said; “he in an hour or twain
Will comfort you.” I passed. Above the dune
Stood the wan splendorless daylight-waning moon.

This poem is in the public domain.

The Treasure

Mountains, a moment’s earth-waves rising and hollowing; the earth too’s an ephemerid; the stars—
Short-lived as grass the stars quicken in the nebula and dry in their summer, they spiral
Blind up space, scattered black seeds of a future; nothing lives long, the whole sky’s
Recurrences tick the seconds of the hours of the ages of the gulf before birth, and the gulf

Robinson Jeffers

1925

To the House

I am heaping the bones of the old mother
To build us a hold against the host of the air;
Granite the blood-heat of her youth
Held molten in hot darkness against the heart
Hardened to temper under the feet
Of the ocean cavalry that are maned with snow
And march from the remotest west.

Robinson Jeffers

1935

Salmon-Fishing

The days shorten, the south blows wide for showers now,
The south wind shouts to the rivers,
The rivers open their mouths and the salt salmon
Race up into the freshet.
In Christmas month against the smoulder and menace
Of a long angry sundown
Red ash of the dark solstice, you see the anglers,

Robinson Jeffers

1935

Poems

The First Grass

More by this poet

The Treasure

To the House

Salmon-Fishing

Poems

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The First Grass

More by this poet

The Treasure

To the House

Salmon-Fishing

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