Volcano Poems

Table of Contents

1. Volcano

   by Hilda Conkling

   In Mexico a mountain stands alone.
   It looms above me . . . a joy strikes my heart;
   I see its transparent colors, its long opal hair . . .
   But the moon would make it shine
   A heap of silver.
   My thoughts are gone from me
   Because of that splendid trembling iridescent thing . . .
   I know it will fade,
   I know it must go.
   Songs float over its crest . . .
   Dusk is coming on . . .
   I will touch the mountain!
   My fingers touch air.
   The broad bright country sways in folds
   Like long slow waves . . .
   If all the hills were water rising and falling
   This would be the highest wave,
   This would be the white-hooded wave,
   This would be the great wave for sea-gulls to follow!
   

2. Reticence

   by Emily Dickinson

   
   

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   The reticent volcano keeps
   His never slumbering plan;
   Confided are his projects pink
   To no precarious man.
   

   If nature will not tell the tale
   Jehovah told to her,
   Can human nature not survive
   Without a listener?
   

   Admonished by her buckled lips
   Let every babbler be.
   The only secret people keep
   Is Immortality.
   

3. The Heart of Fire

   by Walter Kemper Bocock

   
   

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   Spoke the Volcano:
   "The curse is upon me!
   Once I was glorious,
   Bathed in the sunlight;
   Storms were below me;
   Peaceful my summit.
   Thousands ascended,
   Craving the vision
   Which I could show them.
   Millions admired me,
   On their horizon.
   

   "Now the foundations
   Tremble below me.
   Earth is unsettled;
   Hell's fiends are raging
   Penned in my bosom.
   Heaven is hidden by
   Terrible darkness.
   There is no firmament;
   Day is abolished.
   Midnight is starless,
   Save when the tempest
   Bursts from Inferno,
   Showering the world with
   Firebrands and lava,
   All of my verdure
   —Flowers and forests—
   Burning to blackness;
   Leaving me hideous,
   Desolate, barren!"
   

   Slept the volcano
   Ages and ages. Sunshine was bathing
   All of his landscapes. Higher his summit;
   Precious the metals Mined from his bosom;
   Green were the forests, Fair were the flowers,
   Healthgiving waters Flowed from his fountains.
   Said the Great Spirit: "Heaven surrounds thee!
   Hell that o'erwhelmed thee Was of thy making."
   

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