The Carpenters Son

by Sara Teasdale

　　

---

The summer dawn came over-soon, The earth was like hot iron at noon In Nazareth; There fell no rain to ease the heat, And dusk drew on with tired feet And stifled breath. The shop was low and hot and square, And fresh-cut wood made sharp the air, While all day long The saw went tearing thru the oak That moaned as tho’ the tree’s heart broke Beneath its wrong. The narrow street was full of cries, Of bickering and snarling lies In many keys The tongues of Egypt and of Rome And lands beyond the shifting foam Of windy seas. Sometimes a ruler riding fast Scattered the dark crowds as he passed, And drove them close In doorways, drawing broken breath Lest they be trampled to their death Where the dust rose.

---

---