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Elizabeth Cavazza Pullen (fl.1890s)
Elisabeth
Jones was born in Portland, Maine, where she lived her entire life. Her
first husband, Nino Cavazza, was a native of Italy; her second husband
was the Portland journalist, Stanley Pullen. She was a staff writer for
the Literary World of Boston for a number of years, and she contributed
both poetry (often satiric) and essays to many periodicals. She also published
a collection of short stories, Don Finimondone: Italian Sketches in 1892.
Alicia's Bonnet
Last night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
I sat beside Alicia at the play;
Her violet eyes with tender tears were wet
(The diamonds in her ears less bright than they)
For pity of the woes of Juliet:
Alicia's sighs a poet might have set
To delicate music in a dainty sonnet.
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
And
yet to me her graceful ready words
Sounded like tinkling silver bells that jangled,
For on her golden hair the humming-birds
Were fixed as if within a sunbeam tangled,
Their quick life quenched, their tiny bodies mangled,
Poor pretty birds upon Alicia's bonnet.
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
Caught
in a net of delicate creamy crepe,
The dainty captives lay there dead together;
No dart of slender bill, no fragile shape
Fluttering, no stir of any radiant feather:
Alicia looked so calm, I wondered whether
She cared if birds were killed to trim her bonnet.
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
If
rubies and if sapphires have a spirit,
Though deep they lie below the weight of earth,
If emeralds can a conscious life inherit
And beryls rise again to wing‰d birth--
Being changed to birds but not to lesser worth--
Alicia's golden head had such upon it.
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
Perhaps
I dreamed--the house was very still--
But on a sudden the Academy
Of Music seemed a forest of Brazil,
Each pillar that supports the balcony
Took form and stature of a tropic tree
With scarlet odorous flowers blooming on it.
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
A
fragrance of delicious drowsy death
Was in the air; the litle lianas clung
About the mighty tree, and birds beneath
More swift than arrows flashed and flew among
The perfumed poisonous blossoms as they swung,
The heavy-honeyed flowers that hung upon it.
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
Like
rain-drops when the sun breaks up the shower,
Or weavers' shuttles carrying golden thread,
Or flying petals of a wind-blown flower,
Myriads of humming-birds flew overhead--
Purple and gold and green and blue and red--
Above each scarlet cup, or poised upon it.
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
What
rapid flight! Each one a wing‰d flame,
Burning with brilliant joy of life and all
Delight of motion; to and fro they came,
An endless dance, a fairy festival;
Then suddenly I saw them pause and fall,
Slain only to adorn Alicia's bonnet.
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
My
mind came back from the Brazilian land;
For, as a snowflake falls to earth beneath,
Alicia's hand fell lightly on my hand;
And yet I fancied that a stain of death,
Like that which doomed the lady of Macbeth,
Was on her hand: could I perhaps have won it?
Last
night Alicia wore a Tuscan bonnet,
And many humming-birds were fastened on it.
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