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1
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1
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6
liV rHK SAMK AUTHOR
A SONG OF TRUST
AND OIHKR TIUHKIHTS IN VKRSK
"./ zuilttali'e contribution to Canadian Hteratiire."
--The Week, 'I'oronto.
" Thfy give evidcn:e of poetic ability oj quite a hinh
ofder, cultivated to a deo'te of dii'elo/ittient ieldoin found
among Canadian writers." — The Cilube, Ti)ro,,to.
VOICES AND UNDERTONES
IN SONd AN I) I'OKM
'^ Full of natural feeling and line moral sentiment."
-New York Itulcpeiuletit.
** Clearness, strength, and comfiactness of phrase ate
characteristic of the poems."— XmwAow Advertiser.
" There are some genuine poems in this book."
— New York 01)server.
" The average of merit is /«/]^A."— Baltimore Sun.
" The collection of verse is a noble one in many te-
sftects. The large- poems exhib't well the sustaining force
of the poet. 1 1 is vetse has great streuk'th."
— yuel»ec Chronicle.
HAKT c^ CO.MI'ANY, I'uhi.ishkrs
Kim; SiRKiii Wi:.sr TORONTO, CANADA
SONGS OF THE HUMAN
I'aKC 8i
SONGS OF THE HUMAN
i«v
WILLIAM P. McKENZIK
/I MS meintH t^rossen Sihuttrstn
Mark' iih die k-leinen l.itiit -
— //. 1 1 tint.
/
f%.
'j •*"-
gv:,'; f,^'
VV.
tf "
:/ -.«t ^
Toronto
MART .V: COXrPANV
lSf,2
[Entered
th,„ T ? .o the Act of Parliament of Canada, in the year
thousand e.ght hundred and ninety one, by William P. McKe.lt
'" the office of the Minister of ARricuIture.]
one
ar one
;e
AD THEODORAM
QUAM DOMINUS DKDIT ATQUK DO.MINUS AHSTULIT
SICUT DOMINO PLACUir ITA KACILM EST
SIT NOMEN DOMINI HENKDICI UM
■ ' ' I
CONTENTS
Ai'oLfxiiA TO Songs of the H
UMAN
OF PLACES AND MEN
Canada •
• • • • • .
'In Diucot Meadows .
* " • •
A RiuE Together . .
In Cami' .
* • •
Out of Nazareth
At Capernaum
• • • , _
At Sychar ....
The Dead March ....
The Great West
• * " • •
Ph(enix-Bikth -
Whitman
*
A Friend Indeed .
The Author OF "Thorndale" . . . .
* See Title Page.
I' ARE
a
5
6
8
to
»3
»4
*7
i8
»9
at
aa
34
a6
tx
OF LOVING
finLOEN-WKOUING
An iNFi.LENcr-:
A Marck Kvemng
"Tii.i. Death Do Part"
'ioODIlVE - . . .
The Change
The Heacon
A Vision of the Night •
A Closed Hook
The Dying Tree
A Dreamer
Advice
Not the End
Even-Star
Covered Wings
A Twilight Elower -
OF LOSING
The r.osT Ship
Forsaken
I'AGE
»9
30
31
33
34
3*
37
38
39
40
42
43
45
46
48
49
53
54
El'ISTLHS llNTf) A M.MU
I. Fakkwki.!, ....
II. KXPECTANCV . . . .
III. Ki:-t.\i().\ . . . ,
I.iKi: A Dkai. Thei: ....
I'K'O.M "T,„, I),.xKV ,.K A L...VKI.V SofL'
nKKKAVK.MliM- ....
I>.>II1T ....__
I'O.M'I, I.NESS - . . . _
Slik|;k1.\(; . . . . _
CoNCLLSIO.N .
OF LIVING
*TllK DkKA.M Ol- ,v \rUILIST
.MlSCO.NCKI-rio.Ns
Jl NK I.N Wl.VTKK' -
I.N f'tdOlj-TrMK .
At TMIC PlUXlI'lCK
Sl.lilil'I.KSS -
A M
ETAXo.SIIc
Out ()(■ riiK Hav
I HK CoUKSE OK I.
*See Fronti.spi
IKE
|'A(;e
56
61
66
71
73
75
76
77
78
81
83
85
86
S8
90
91
93
94
ece.
XI
PAGE
Alone -
Three Changes
Embarking
96
98
100
Praise
Criticism
From " The Diary of a Lonely Soul
102
103
Love Enthroned
CoMl'ANIONSHir
The Potter
Prayer
Dogma
Beliefs
104
106
107
107
108
108
Truth
Ideal
109
The Universal Gift
The Yielling of Pilatic
A Drama
III
"5
The Frontispiece and Illustration on Title Page are drawn and engraved
from sketches made for this Volume by E. D. Watts.
xit
PAGE
96
98
100
102
104
1 06
107
107
108
108
roQ
no
III
"5
engraved
APOLOGIA
TO SONGS OF THE HUMAN
These songs are mine,— as Hfe itself is mine,
Wherein I seek and gain the vision tine :
Yet to me given. — as Hfe to Him is (hie
Who makes me as a euj) for precious wine.
Brinnning th<? chaHee with His joy divine.
Both gift and g.iin I utter forth for yon,
'Mong threads of song to Him I wind the chie,-
Father of Lights, whose jeweUed garments shine
Unseen, till night from sun-daze heals our eyes.
His wisdom hlossoms forth infinitely.
Atom and system holds He in His plan : —
Yet it is mcDi reveals the Ever-Wise:
Then may the race grow pure, till poets may
Hyam the Divine whene'er they sing of Man!
lue,
OF PLACES AND MEN
y
Han!
Canada
'piiis is the Land whose boundless plains lie waiting
For millions yet to wed the virgin soil,
That she may yield, as 't were a new creating.
Life for a billion weary sons of toil.
Regal her mountains, giant-like her rivers,
She hath her own mediterranean seas;
Pi-airies more vast, whore now no hearth-song quivers.
Where yet shall rise the song of vintages.
Forests she hath, where great pines wave their tassels
High o'er the green leaves of ten thousand trees ;
Waiting to build men cottage-homes or castles.
These sing the nnisic of the far-off seas.
Great, rough and strong this land is, like some Viking,
Whose sons all feel they are of kingly line ;
When will some Bard, the silent harp rough-striking.
Praise to all times the Land of Shaken Pii e !
In Didcot Meadows
I.
QHE sits in the field
Among the " moon-daisies ;"
The red poppies yield,
She sits in the field ;
My one flower of the weald,—
For she 's beyond praises.
She sits in the field
Among the "moon-daisies."
II.
There 's a joy in the air.
And the buttercups glisten ;
My Love is so fair
There 's a joy in the air ;
To think she is there, —
E'en the wind stops to listen,
There 's a joy in the air
And the buttercups glisten.
Songs of the Human
III.
From th« hedges of briar
A breeze comes to win her;
Like the incense from fire,
From the hedges of briar
He brings his desire,
But he faints there, the sinner,-
From the hedges of briar
That breeze came to win her !
A Ride Together
•The silver shafts of the glad new day
Have pierced the curtain of mist on the hills ;
Yet the slopes are swathed in the vapor gray,
And the valley-cup to the brim it fills.
There 's a feeling of life in the fresh, keen air,
A gladness, expectant of unknown good ;
What though the desolate trees are bare,
And the bird-choirs gone from the silent wood.
They could not give our exultance a voice,
As over the glittering grass we ride ;
Our steeds in their sinewy leap rejoice, —
They may gallop on for no curb will chide !
The children crowd to the pane as they hoar
The ringing of hoofs on the frosty ground ;
Behind their faces the gleams appear
Of the red hearth-flame that they gathered round.
8
Songs of the Human
A scjiiirrel jibes from a twisted root,
Then he whisks away with a sudden dread ;
We rustle the dead leaves underfoot,
There are bare grey branches overhead.
Freely their largess of golden leaves
The trees in the lap of the Mother have cast,
Save that the oak like a miser grieves
O'er the coppery wealth that he keeps to the last.
Deep in the hollow a little brook
Is strangled by hordes of the withered leaves ;
And the warrior trees have a weary look,
With lichen breast-plates and green -moss greaves.
But the grass at their feet has in freshness grown,
Beneath the wild dash of the Autunm rain.
And the wide, brown fields that were tilled and sown.
Are striped with the green of the springing grain.
There was never so glad an Autumn morn, —
The golden-rod swings by the aster's side.
Its pendent red fruit begems the thorn.
And this is our glory,— together we ride!
In Camp
fjE is coming to-night,— my Fiiend
I know how his kindly face will shine,
When his hands grasp mine,
I know the message his eyes will send, —
How slow is the day to end!
I look from the door of my tent,
Where houghs from the whispering spruce are spread
For our fragrant bed,
Bright-paved is the lake, as though Phoebus meant
For my Friend that his gold be spent.
The sound of the waves shall be heard,
As they trail along shore in the quiet of night
Their skirts foam-white.
But we shall sleep like the trees, unstirred,
Till we wake at the song of a bird.
ID
Songs of the Human
Then past where the song-sparrow sings
At dawn we shall dash through the foam and din
Where the surf conies in,
To plunge where the green wave sinks and swings,
And swim in default of wings.
Then the meal in the beechen shade,—
The lithe trout caught where the depths are cool
In the singing pool,
With the flesh that flake on flake is made
Like rose-leaf in rose-leaf laid.
The plunge when the day soars high, —
Delay on the sands ere we don the dress.
For the wind's caress.
For the sun's embrace when the cloud sails by.
And he warms from the deep far sky.
Better if winds shall rave,
And the crested billows march and form ;
The joy of the storm
Shall be ours as we cleave the curling wave,
And its impotent fury brave.
II
I
Sorjgs of the Human
At night by our driftwood fire
We shall talk of the world and its infinite wrongs,
We shall sing old songs
And recount sad tales (till the brands expire)
Of love and its deathless desire.
He is coming to-night, my Friend !
My soul grows strong at the thought of him.
Yet my eyes are dim
At the thought of love's greeting my hetart will send —
How slow is the day to end !
la
Out of Nazareth
The thing that hath l)een is, the preacher saith,
In circles of the law the world is hound,
Wise man and fool must go the self-same round
Of birth and life, the end of all is death ;
Who can bring back again the fleeing breath ?
What nuisic still the world's wailing sound ?
Where in life's bitterness is sweetness found,—
•' Can any good thing come from Nazareth ? "
Nay, verily, if Nazareth be •' cause " !
But what if it be but the chrysalis,
Wherein the Spirit moving mightily
Doth fashion life by higher than our laws ?
Yea, wheresoever any good gift is.
There works the Spirit ; thither "Come and see I"
13
At Capernaum
A MULTITUDE thronging
Press on with the Master
A woman's sad face
Gains a glimpse of His grace.
And her heart fills with longing
As the crowd jostle past her.
Unto healers she sought once
With false hopes alluring ;
Her livelihood lost,
In an agony tossed,
Hope died— till she thought once,
There yet may be curing !
Is not this the Physician
Whereof went the rumor
Through power from above
He healed, and for love ?
Would He slight her petition ?
Such eyes could not doom her !
14
in
Songs of the Human
By the crowd pressing thickly
From her sight was He hidden,
But she pressed in behind-
One thought in her mind-
So gently, so quickly.
She passed- through unchidden.
Heart all the time saying.
If He could but feel her
Pull gently the fringe
Of His robe, see her cringe,
He would listen her praying.
He would stop there and heal her.
She touched— and health thrilled her ;
She stared as one glamoured
Nor heard the Lord speak ;
Then His eyes turned to seek,
And the look with love thrilled her
As her story she stammered.
So faith touches ever.
Recks naught of resistance—
They who are our own
By a touch are made known ;
Unlikeness will sever.
But never can distance !
IS
Ml
Sonss of the Human
Amid all the thronging,
By the faith that had brought her
The Master was 'ware
Of His own standing there,
So He answered her longing,
With '• Go in peace, Daughter ! "
m
4v
1 1
i6
w
At Sychar
w
EARY of travel the Master came,
And rested by Jacob's well ;
And there to a woman whose life was shame,
He scorned not of peace to tell, —
How the spring of her life might be pure for her.
How truth life's anguish might cure for her,
And life everlasting be sure for her ;
" Is not this the Christ ? " she said.
And forth at the word her townsfolk came,
To Him that sat thus by the well ;
•' To be our Messiah, is this His claim ?
Let us hear what His own lips tell ! "
And a Jew they found who would deal with them,
A Man true-hearted, to feel with them,
A Prophet with hope to reveal for them, —
" 'T is the Saviour of all ! " they said.
17
The Dead March
! ii
:;;li
ill.
i
[colonel WILLIAMS]
O ADLY now march we, with measured step and
slow,
Arms trailed so lowly the soldier's grief to show, -
Follow a leader, the flag wrapped round his breast,
Not now to battle, but to his long, long rest.
Death slew the fairest, yet came he scathleps through
Daring all danger where the shrieking bullets flew;
Men called Lim hero who turned the battle tide,—
Charging the foremost where treacherous foemen
hide.
Freeing the prisoners whom Famine gloated o'er,
Seeking Death's captives that he might to life restore;
So Death, relentless, when danger's hour was past,
Shot secret arrows and the hero slew at last.
Sadly now march we, to the beat of the muffled drum,
Wailing of music sounds our grief though lips are
dumb.
Battleford, July oth, ISSo.
i8
The Great West
P AREWELL to the West with its clear-flowing streams,
That swirl in fire-circles 'neath the red sunset-beams ;
Farewell to the soft breeze that rustles the grass,
And the fierce-joyful storm-winds that shriek as they
pass.
Farewell to the prairie with Spring's tender green,
To the wide-stretching plains when the brown grass
is seen ;
I would I could gather your joys like the flowers
That mountains watch over from pearly-blue towers !
Farewell to the clear skies where-through the sun
swings,
And the peak-gathered clouds where his last glory
clings ;
Farewell to the mountains that wrap them at eve
In the royalest purple the sun's loom can weave.
19
rr
Songs of the Human
\ I
Farewell to the snow-clad prairie expanse,
Where icy-bright sunbeams glitter and glance ;
Farewell to the mountains, all silver and blue.
Whose gateways are valleys that west winds rush
through.
Farewell to the mountains, farewell to the West,
Where the soul of a man may expand to its best, —
My heart 's in the far West, I 'm held by your sjiell,
O Mountain and Prairie and Clear Streams, farewell !
Ill i
mm
II
Ii 1-
1 i
1 il
20
Phcenix- Birth
Exiles in a Siberian Prison celebrated the Centennial of American
Independence.
r\ Country the nest of Freedom,
O Land of the shadowing wings,
We look from the house of bondage
And hope in our bosom sings.
The Eagle hath brooded a lifetime.
And what if she now must die, —
Since wide-winged up from her ashes
Shall a greater Freedom fly.
O Country with wings o'ershadowed,
God's gift is laid in your hands ;
Be it yours to send forth the blessing
Of light to the waiting lands!
You stand in the sun's clear shining.
We crouch in the rain of teai's, —
Can you think how we crave the freedom
You have known for a hundred years?
21
lli
t ^']
M
Whitman
i^N craggy height the King-bird in his eyry
Beholds the dawning ray that first appears;
So he beholds the promise of the dawning,
And greets the gladness of the coming years.
The passing time brings to his eye no dimness,
He marks new nations marching from afar;
With vision clear discerns that men are brothers,
And for the earth claims kinship with the star.
And thou America, who hast for omen
That wide-winged haunter of the sky, must years
Pass on ere thou greet him with honor
Who first in honor set thy Pioneers !
32
|h;i
i<
Songs of the Human
Lo, he proclaims thy foremost place, and mission
For all the earth love's triumph to display —
Wilt thou pass him who sings the Universal,
To crown some "singer of an empty day?"
Then bid thy children praise him ere he goeth
Beyond the sound of praise that is his part;
They flaunt the carven eagle o'er their banners
While yet thy Seer waits tribute from the heart.
23
A Friend Indeed
jia i:
! ;
■■'<n 1'
i 1
[to d. g. w.]
I HAVE a friend whose kindness makes ine great,
My glory is that he can love nie so ;
In truth and love a friendship hath no date,
In time I met him three short years ago.
He is my patron, for he first discerned
The spark Promethean that was like to die ;
He praised and blamed till clearer yet it burned,
What it shall be let his love prophesy !
He hath a poet's heart, this friend of mine,
So dwells among the children of the sun,
And when a vision comos his face will shiiu'
As if he knew the gain of life were won.
Hope is the seed, Belief the sprout, he said
Knowledge the promise of the leaf and flower,
But Sight the fruit whereby the soul is fed,
Who seeth God hath gained his manhood's power.
24
Songs of the Human
"If the earthly round me is pressed,
And with hurdens njy strength may not cope,
Then I wait till the worst turn to best ;
In the darkness I still cherish hope
"For hope holdeth life in the germ,
And the Life-Giver cannot deceive ;
The blade will burst forth in its term
Into sunlight, and I shall believe.
*' Yea, and trust the belief to the end.
For belief into knowledge will grow ;
More sunlight, and more he will send,
Till the blossom awakes and I know.
'Though hither and thitherward blown.
The petals on earth scatter white.
The real that lay under the known
Shall ripen at last into sight !''
'T is writ : The eyes incapable of tears
Alone can see ;— and hath he gained that end ?
Is vision his? Then shall I, quenching fears,
Climb to that summit for I love my friend !
25
-I
The Author of "Thorndale"
QOME souls there be, not "Hke dumb, driven cattle,"
Who reck no odds if Truth call them to daie,
Hard blows who deal, not beating empty air ;
Yet they while shrouded in dim smoke of battle,
While cannons boom and glare, and muskets rattle,
List for some calm voice giving order where
Their force be led ; oft-times the wintry hair
Will bow to message brought by childhood's prattle.
The messengers are "seers," they who link
The fighters with the Will that guides 1 he fray ;
Not theirs it is to slaughter, but to say
Where onslaught shall make warring evil shrink,—
Then silence. — who of them will think
When warriors have the wreaths of victorv ?
26
OF LOVING
*7
i ■ h
'• t \:
m
Golden-Wedding
poR fifty years, with Heaven for their guide,
The two have journeyed ; well may they confide
Each in the other with a trust that none
May alter,— though the very sun
Were dark, Love would its light provide.
Her white hair now more grandly crowns the bride.
Than orange-wreath and white veil floating wide;
Since that first day the twain have been as one
For fifty years.
They entered then upon a path untried,
Grand-children now and friends crowd by their side;
Alone, but hand in hand was life begun.
Now lovers many haste to say, "Well done,"-
For life grows golden when two thus abide
For fifty years.
^ f
ft'
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29
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An Influence
•pHERE are who love the life of petty changes
Where body- wants make up the sum and end;
I choose stark death, unless the spirit ranges
From sun to star, and angel thoughts attend.
And yet, I too beneath some mausoleum
Of great earth-hopes that cover o'er the soul,
Might hear the ransomed chanting their Te Deum,
A spirit lost, that gained an earthly goal.
But, I have yearned to pass the shining portals
That open into life angelic-free,
For thou, my love, art one of the immortals,
What is eternal calling forth in me.
Thy spirit-touch hath roused the deathless craving
For higher life, and love whose peace is power;
Thus God to thee hath given a soul for saving.
For this thy grace, for this thy spirit's dower.
30
I
A March Evening
T"HE bare grey branches croak and strain,
At the angry push of the wild March wind ;
On the window-glass beats the swirled rain,
And the moan of the woods is like one in pain
As I close my door and draw the blind.
Outside the clattering branches fight,
But what care I for the angry looks
Of the lowering sky, and the wind's despite ;
The purring, contentful fire is bright.
Where I sit beside and read your books.
Here and there as a pencil trace
Tells what your eyes were opened to see,
A vision comes of your soulful face ;
And the living truth, like a new-born Grace,
Takes fornj and fashion as well for me.
31
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" Till Death do Part "
i fc'FiLL, Death do part,"— this contract shall not
blind us,
Then sink to ashes on the funeral pyre ;
Only the sacramental love can bind us,
Like gold it passes purer through the fire,—
The heaven-born love, that hath angelic sweetness.
From earth upspringing with a wild-bird's fleetness,
Tn flights of hope and trust and strong desire.
"Till death do part," — as if the v changed in dying
What of celestial tabernacled here !
This that was stirred, within the being lying,
To greet its mate and form the ]>erfect sphere ; —
Nay, when the union hath been made from heaven,
How can it end when weicome home is given ?
With love surpassing death I wed thee, Dear !
32
Songs of the Human
"Till decath do part,"-yeca, let this life dissever,
If that there be no sacramental love ;
Bonds all are vain, for those are wedded never
By church and priest, if not by heaven above ;
Freedom were thine, Love, whatsoe'er it cost me,
Whene'er thou lovest not, then thou hast lost me,
That is not home whencefrom hath flown the
Dove !
ti
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I:
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i flil:
Goodbye
^a:n< i: more from thee I part,
So Love, goodbye,
y >t not >v ■ n'.ip;uished heart;
Wliy i-ii^u ■ I iiigh ?
God be with thee, as Friend,
Good all thy steps attend,
Love without stint or end —
Dearest, good-bye !
Safe art thou in His care —
God, Good and Love :
Daily art by my prayer
Blessed from above.
All issues do belong
To Goodness, who is strong ;
He hath become my song-
God, Good and Love.
34
lis
Songs of the Human
Whate'er the issue be,
All shall be well ;
When I may come to thee
Waiting will tell.
No word would I recall,
He ruleth all in all,
No thing is great or small.
All shall be well !
r
35
I
! !
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K :'^!i
, The Change
I IFE was a strange wild thing,
A quest and a long desire,
Till I met you ;
Life burned like a slow dull fire
Amid shadows bewildering,
Till I met you.
I'l \
But the white flame leaped to its height.
And the terrible shadows fled,
When I met you;
So ended the strange wild dread,
Life grows unto peace, in the light.
Since I met you.
The Beacon
r\ LADDIE ayont the sea,
I 'm needin' thee sair the nicht !
Whatena joy it would be
Should I see in the flickerin' licht
A face wi' a glist'nin' e'e,
A face wi' its heart-luv' bricht.
And ma heart should ken it was thee!
Tae the headland aboon the sea,
I slip frae the hoose, alane,
I crooch doon there on nia knee.
On the grund by the beacon-stane ;
And the fire sune leaps for thee,
To guide thee, ma laddie, ma ain,
To shine far oot ower the sea,
To tell how ma heart is fain,—
And flames up wi' luv' for thee I
37
■
A Vision of the Night
A VISION I saw in a dream last night,—
I lay asleep in the silence, hut heart was awake,
Whose desires in the daytime hidden take forms of
light,
So my love came nigh me, nor took her flight
Till pallidly came daybreak.
Life of ray life I I touched thy hand,
And a thrill of life through my innermost being sped ;
If thy hand lead through the barrenest desert land,
Then joys will leap from the burning sand
Like flowers, where our feet may tread.
Soul of my soul I I heard thy voice.
Sweeter than low-breathed flute with its tremulous
sound.
Let me list to its music ever, O thou my Choice,
Harmonious chords in my heart rejoice,
And in harmony peace is found.
But the vision must fly when the dawning shows, —
At thy farewell touch on my lips, O my purest One,
I burst into bloom with the joy, as the leaves unclose
From the fragrant heart of the Summer's rose
At thrill of the glowing sun.
38
A Closed book
I TURN the leaves over, page by page,
Then I close the book with a sudden pang ;
You read me that poem,— some long past age !
I remember yet how the dear voice rang.
Will the book have sorrow that darkness lies.
Pressed down on the leaves where the words are
writ?
Will it cry with a yearning to see the eyes
That once looked light to the heart of it ?
If my heart could be closed thus, shut like a book,
Forgetful of you, and the eyes that beam, —
But you wakened life with the love of your look.
And I in my darkness must dream and dream
39
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The Dying Tree
' /^ AiNST your gnarly trunk a moment, just a moment
she was leaning,
With her silk-soft ha Ir against you, while my hopes
were wild careening,
Splintered spars by cordage swinging, wild wind blow-
ing shock on shock ; —
Can they over-ride the surging? Fears like clouds
together flock !
As she leaned her head against you, did you feel the
sap flow faster,
As my heart beat, just to view her, knowing then how
none surpassed her, —
How I envied you the softness of the silken hair's
caress,
But she bade me then to leave her, and no other way
would bless.
40
Songs of the Human
Love is fire and yoii must meet it with the blaze of
pa>4si()n holy ;
Pride must vanish in its glowing, and the heart grow
pure and lowly, —
Did she seek the fii'e celestial when she spurned me
from hei' side,
Did she know my love would burn out ere the year
itself had died ?
Just a year, and yon are dying,— so you could not bear
the gladness
Of her touching you a moment, what ' longed for in
my madness ;
But the passion burnt to ashes, and the true love now
is known, —
Known too late, for you are dying, and I stand by you
alone!
41
A Dreamer
' I
pv REAMER of dreams, who dream you liav^e been
dreaming,
Only in that dream-shadow love retui'ned
Makes glad your heart ; awake your love is spurned
Yourself outcast, 'mong consorts ill-beseeming.
Your way a desert ; pitilessly beaming,
The sun glares down ; at night the plain that
burned
Hath winter's chill, —you dream that you dis-
cerned
Oasis-rest where water-pools were gleaming.
You dreamed a dream came to you lying there,
Of her in that far land who drove you forth ;
And lo, like to a houri, graciously
She brings you fruit and wine that she will share, —
The dread simoon of madness, from the north
Anear you whirls, — awake to truth, and pray !
42
Advice
4 k i_j E who despairs is free,
He who hopes on enslaved,"—
Thus lightly answered she
To one who guidance craved.
"Why look expectant wise
For favors from the maid ?
Paths lie before thine eyes
Wherethrough none yet have strayed
"Be free, and Life explore
Where no love-hope deludes,
Joy shall be thine once more,
Huzzas of multitudes.
ill
t!
43
Songs of the Human
"When women shall admire,
And men shall boast, thy fame,
This present poor desire
Will seem hemp-thread in flame.
"Despair of love, and gain
This larger joy instead." —
He turned away in pain,
" Love is my life," he said.
44
Not the End
'-THOUGH all 's at an end now,
Yet neither one weeps ;
No tears she can spend now,
His agony sleeps.
Long frost ere the snow fell,
Beat hard all the land;
On him blow on blow fell.
Thus, from her hand.
So life-springs are sealed up,
No buds can unfold, —
Say not, wour ^s have healed up,
Because they grow old.
When warm days shall quiver.
Flood-hursts will break forth.
As when southland-born river
Flows to the cold North.
i'f.
45
1
Even-Star
HE world waits hushed at even-time
For the evening Star ;
From the college clock-tower sounds the chime.
So faint, so far.
T
Across wide, peaceful fields of grain
The last light flees ;
Like level-driven golden grain,
That gilds the trees.
But strong wild hopes, and fierce regret,
Struggle in me ;
What might have heen, can I forget, —
Face what shall be?
46
Songs of the Human
The earth hath peace!— yet ceaseless fires
Within her strive ; —
Then peace be mine, though wild desires
Remain alive !
A Star shines where light-gleams dissolved,-
( Day's avatar)
Must loves then fade, to be resolved
Into one Star?
I':
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Covered Wings
II
•The white clay-cliffs from the beach lift high,
By the rain drops chiselled to uncouth shapes,
Far down on the shore the sandpipers cry,
Where a brook flows in and its valley gapes.
The martins chirp from their tunnelled haunts
In the sheer high banks of the yellow sand,
At the edge of the cliff the June-grass flaunts
Her yellow banners, in reach of my hand.
On a shining stem, mark, a beetle crawls ;
As he sways in the wind I shrink with a dread,
Man venturing so at some cliff-foot sprawls.
But its wing-case lifts, and the gauze vans
spread.
There is one I know who has clambered out
On a daring hope to its utmost end,
Over death he sways, and I hope, — yet I doubt,
If wings be the gift that his God will send.
48
es.
id,
ns
A Twilight Flower
T^HE flowei- of my heart was glowing red.
Redder than flame in the sim ;
I was like to die when my flower lay dead,
But there came up another one.
Few cared to look at its petals white,
'T is the red love they seek to gain ;
But they shine for me in the dim twilight, -
This flower is peace after pain.
!
i
I !
1:!
49
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OF LOSING
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The Lost Ship
AT last the Master-Biiilder
Could build a ship of his own ;
By the earnings of years he filled her.
To trade with another zone.
One morn with white sails flowing
She gaily breasted the surge,
And with tears he watched her going
Beyond the horizon's verge.
Is it the South Seas hold her?
Or a northern ice-field grips?
Says the neighbors growing bolder,
'T is the harbor of all lost ships ! "
c( »r
And the old, poor Master-Builder
Is a by-word among the men ;
His fancies, they say, bewilder,
For he saith, "She will come again !"
53
i
Forsaken
C AD as finding unknown faces
When heart sang a friend was there ;
Weird as moonlight in strange places,
So to love is love's despair.
Swiftly now the sun is sinking,
Shining in her waiting face,
The tryst he set for "sundown," linking
Words with many a fond embrace.
The red ball in the water dipping
Cloud-bands, broken, cannot hold ;
She hears the small waves lipping, lipping,
Feels the sea-breeze blowing cold.
54
Songs of the Human
Light are words, and lightly spoken,—
The hist beam glimmers at the verge,
The cloud-bands now seem heart-strings broken,
The wind to her sounds out a dirge.
Hours go by,— she does not mark them,
The lost sun draws her like a weight ;
Voices call, she does not hark them.
Her life has neither soon nor late.
m
Casting shadows in the hollow.
Creeps the moon up like a ghost ;
She thinks of ripening griefs to follow,
Fruitage where joy-blooms promised best.
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55
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Epistles Unto a Maid
I.— FAREWELL
I.
' k Carewell,"— I say it with the strength of joy,
P'or I am sure no evil shall befall ;
God's love will be about thee like a wall
Of unseen fire, wherein naught sLall destroy
Thy peacefulness, if love thy thoughts employ.
If love divine to thee be all in all.
II.
Farewell,— apart we cannot ever be!
Love's music shall reach to thee wheresoe'er
Beneath the dome of blue thou mayest fare.
Well shalt thou fare, true love will follow thee,
Nor I be sad, if thy love come to me,
For love can flash through leagues of viewless
air.
56
Songs of the Human
III.
Thou art brought nigh me by the fragrant breeze,
By every pleasure of the summer tide ;
Alone I walk, yet thou art by my side,
My Queen who art, and seeking thee to please
I shape my life by thine august decrees ;
Lowly was I, but thou hast given me pride.
: ]oy,
I
T
3y»
leer
are.
lee,
^wless
IV.
For thou dost make all true men chivalrous,
And where thou goest blessings follow thee ;
Unconscious of thy grace thou mayest be,
Yet hearts cry out, "There hath been born to us,
>This day, a Queen by right divine, and thus
We are ennobled following her decree."
V.
When like mist on the breast of ocean hoar
My soul expands forth to the Infinite,
Like pulsing sun-rays through the fog that flit
Till clear as light it lifts, expanding more,
I feel thy love through all my being pour
And thus I rise, with light of God uplit.
J
57
I:
Songs of the Human
VI.
On plains beneath I mingled with the fight,
All dust-begrimed, and hoarse with battle-shout ;
With clanging arms drove enemies to rout,
While clouds of conflict rose and veiled the sight ;
A hero then, in purpose and in might,
'Mid battle-din, and sun-obscuring doubt.
VII.
And high above us dwelt the gods, serene.
Beholding all the war, who fought, who fell,
Guiding both slave and hero by their spell ;—
No more I mingle with that strife terrene,
A spirit-power I wield, not weapons keen,
For now through love among the gods I dwelL
i I
VIII.
By the flame-touch of Love my soul was brought
Unto this fire-birth, and I felt it rend
Its earthly bands ; the lower life had end ;
Wide-winged I launched myself through si)ace and
sought *
No longer painfully for utmost bounds of tho\ight,
I felt mv soul to farthest star extend.
58
Songs of the Human
IX.
So, Love, how canst thou ever be afar !
My love is round thee like an atmosphere,
When thou dost call, I answer, " I am here ; "
Although thou wert a dweller in the star
Whose light can pierce not through the distance-bar
To earthly eyes, I 'd be around thee, Dear !
X.
Nor need we fear the evening dusk of death ;
Darkness may gather at the eventide,
But in the home new light and joy abide, —
How else in that the Father fashioneth ?
Death is a door, and our life is His breath
That ceases not, — what ill can then betide I
XI.
Full well thou knowest that I hold thee dear,
But, like dark clouds blown by the thunder-gust,
Love's self may hurry fears ; now these ai'e thrust
So far away that all my heaven is clear.
No star of hope is hidden by a fear,—
I give thee more than love, I give thee trust.
59
M
Songs of the Human
XII.
Be faithful thou, Heart's Dearest, so that I
May never know the anguish that must come
When what is trusted fails, the heart grows numb.
And God is lost, — nay, let that thought pass by ;
Our trust is pledge that Love will satisfy
The hope that gropes, the longings that are dumb.
XIII.
Not " satisfied," our hearts may be content ;
I love with all my soul and strength and mind,
My spirit is with thy soul intertwined,
And thou has given all ;— so Eros meant
The heart should gain its wealth by love expent ;
And by our gifting is his covenant signed.
XIV.
And when thou art beyond the surging main, —
Although between us continents be broad.
No power that is, our spirits can defraud
Of fire immortal, as the t)ne from twain
Kindles, and glows, and ever i aketh gain,
Till consciously our soul grows oni' with God !
60
Songs of the Human
II.— EXPECTANCY
I.
y^s one who climbs his toilsome eastwcard way
While expectation stills the morning wind,
And turning marks the glow of clouds behind
That iine the west, while yet the shadows gray
Crowd round about his path, who greets the day
Beyond the frowning mountain-crest enshrined,-
II.
I turn one backward look to those far days
When love began, and lo, they catch the gleam
Of dawn more wonderful than in a dream
The heart conceived ; mine have been darkened ways.
But I toil on expectant that the blaze
Of love beyond heart's hope shall on me beam.
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81 II
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Songs of the Human
III.
I faint, I fail, I die,— and live again
In thrills of love thou sendest on the air ;
Restoring thus my soul thou dost prepare
For larger life ; though now beyond the ken
Of these mine eyes, I shall behold thee when
My soul the effulgence of thy love can bear.
IV.
I am a prisoner, whom men call " free ; "
Be it a hemisphere, or one small room
Where thou art not, therein it is my doom,
As one who gazes o'er the green-gray sea,
To strain my eyes to catch one glimpse of thee.
To strain my ears through all the midnight gloom
V.
Kept from thee thus, how can I else than fret,
I who would be the strong- winged bird that soars.
And joyous song down to his mate outpours ?
Like straggling vines near to the window set,
That seek the light, I turn to thee, for yet
Thou art my su nlight and my out-of-doors.
6a
Songs of the Human
VI.
To thee I feel each leaf and fibre turn,
And forth to thee my spirit opes her flowers ;
I cannot live but in the sunny hours,
'T is death while others joy, and false lights burn ;
Thinking of thee the ^Uttering show I spurn.
Longing for freshness of the forest bowers.
VII.
My life's completeness men have envied me, —
That I need not the many ministries
Which bring dependence, that nor blame nor praise
Can move ; but what such loneliness may be
My heart can tell, that yearns the more for thee
Because in silence I must pass my days.
VIII.
Bethink thee how a king of old would fear
To show his treasure-house to men whose thought
Would be of theft, — to break the gem-inwiought
Gold-foliaged artist work, the precious gear
Which life's work made, that for one foolish year
Wine and life-wasting revel might be bought.
63
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Songs of the Human
IX.
ISo hath man's heart its inmost treasury,
Where some would enter only to despoil ;
Or make base use of that which hallowed toil
Hath fashioned ; yet the king the whole would lay
Before the child-heart who would him repay
With knowledge of its worth, and heart's love
loyal.
X.
And for that other only, is prepared
The treasure of the life ; it may be shown
To none but her. The best is to be known,
When unto love the inmost soul is bared ;
There is no value but in treasure shared
And no life is complete that is alone.
XI.
Dost read my parable, thou Woman True ?
And know the sacred things I guard are thine ?
No step profane hath entered to that shrine.
Where secret hopes, and love forever new,
Are waiting thee ; all barriers love withdrew.
And I am wholly thine since thou art mine.
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64
Songs of the Human
XII.
Yet dost thou love ? Mayhap my song sounds far
Like voices through a mist, for ecstasies
From earth uplift thee to the heavenlies ;
Nay, Love, despise not them who lowlier are,
E'en though thou art to many as the star
That gathers up the sun's last golden rays.
XIII.
There may be thousand ways, in other spheres,
Of learning thy soul's greatness and its quest ;
Earth hath but one way, Dearest, leave the rest
To be discovered in the circling years
Marked by some sun that now a star appears, —
Earth's way is love, for this life love is best.
XIV.
Thus thou wilt learn what verily is "True ; "
Dear Love, these words of thine are surely vain :.
" Love is but selfishness enlarged, so twain
May joy together, let the whole world rue ; "
Love is God's Presence understood by two.
And there is no more sorrow, no more pain.
I*
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Songs of the Human
in.— RE-UNION
I.
A MONO the snow-clad nioiintaiiis, that enchain
A continent with spreading plains so vast
That man thereon doth feel himself outcast,
And seeks for tree, or stone, or shrub in vain.
That from its wideness he may shelter gain, —
A river rose, and to the prairie passed.
II.
Pure was its birth, begot by ardent sun,
And of the white snow born ; but there wei-e
rocks
To bar its course, and oft with sudden shocks
The paths would fail, then foaming it would run
Down crevices, through pools where eddies spun,
Bursting the bars that jealoiis winter locks.
66
Songs of the Human
III.
The sullen rocks were angry at its joy,
They sought to trip the child with clumsy feet ;
And it learned anger too, and spray would beat
Against their faces, and loud cries annoy ;
But naught its eager impulse could destroy.
Delay they might, but never cause retreat.
IV.
But shattering fall and foamy rapids past.
Forth on the plain exultant now it pours ;
No longer beating at the mountain doors,
Repulsed, made angry, free course comes at last ;
The waters swirling faster and more fast,
Swing little songful waves to all the shores.
V.
Fearing the lonesome plain, the poplars crowd
Along its banks ; flutters of soft applause
Sound 'mong their leaves, whene'er there comes
a pause
In that glad river-song, which sounds aloud
The joy of freedom in a soul unco wed.
Whose majesty is greater than man's laws.
67
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Songs of the Human
VI.
But now through star-lit silence comes a sound,
The distant whisper of another song ;
As times go by the singing grows more strong,
The wide flood quivers, wondering hath he found
The mate who makes of life the perfect round ;
The two streams evei- nearing flow along.
VII.
Soon to his question all things answer, yea ;
And, calmly as it were no wondrous thing,
The two floods join ; but happy hearts must sing,—
Hear in the rapids that now leap and play :
" Loving, beloved, this is the glad new way,
Join twain in one and three-fold joy will spring ! "
VIII.
Mountain-begotten, by the earth conceived,
Pure to the sun's look she began her flow ;
Flowers leaned to greet her, song birds seemed to
know
That she was favored ; all the land believed
Her blessed, and the sighing pine-trees grieved
That from their hills they could no homage show.
68
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Songs of the Human
IX.
Yet sho joiiunl one hofouled with weary strife ;
Behold, they enter now a silent lake, —
This is love's peace, wherein he will forsake
The restless will ; from earth-stain rid his life,
And issue forth, completed in the wife,
While s
wake.
through him will find a new strength
I journeyed on that clear stream, well content
To wait long years if I true lf)ve could meet ;
And now, O Holy Woman, thee I greet 1
Join we in one love's treasuries unspent.
So shall our joined lives be beneficent.
And thou in me, and I in thee complete.
XI.
Thou hast but dreamed of conflicts I have known ;
But fear thou not, in thee I gain release
From hostile fate, in love I gain surcease
From strifes with self that rouse the anguished groan;
Let us but love, and trust to love alone,
So through love's ecstasy come to love's peace.
69
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Songs of the Human
XII.
I know full well how glad thy heart Vvill be.
And mine,— already hath its overflow !
O Lc k^e, such joy angels desire to know,
Yet they so perfect are, they are not free
To love and be beloved, and thereby see
The heart to its divine completeness grow
m
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^^ Dominus dedit, Dominus abstuUt ;
sit nomen Domini benedictum i"
70
' I
Like a Dead Tree
[)EAD.. . dead... dead I
It sounds on the evening breeze,
That rustles 'niong scented fern,
And sways the murmuring trees.
I« it I or she that is dead?
Do dead people cry and yearn
As I while I wander on
Where the desolate pine-trees stand,
Dead in this fire-scathed land?
Their roots are firm in the earth.
But the tassels of green are gone ;
Leaping from trunk to bough,
The blaze, with its crackling mirth,
Shrivelled the life-giving leave.
Ncorching the bole, till now
Life comes from the roots no more.
And their firmness only deceives.
71
I!
Songs of the Human
I
p
Dead . . . dead . . . dead !
I am dead like the blackened pines, —
Firndy they stand 'gainst the shocks
Of the wintry wind that whines
'Mong the caves of the rocky shore, —
Stern as the worn gray rocks.
And sternly I too withstand
The storm of hatred and scorn,
Bnt the joy of living is fled :
I dwell in a desolate land,
No longer I welcome the morn,
It only shows me my dead !
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72
From "The Diary op a Lonely Soul"
BEREAVEMENT
A^ HOPE lies dead ; my very own was she,
J/y lov^e begotten, cherished for long years,
She was not dead, O Master, when for thee
I went ; now friends cry t)ut 'mid tears :
'• Thy Hope is dead, the Master comes too late ! "
Save me my daughter,— speak in her deaf ears?,
"Talitha cnini," Lord ! In faith unmoved I wait.
Like one who wanders to the glowing west,
Then in dim twilight must his steps retrace,
So I with weary heart that will not rest
Must backward go : to earth 1 turn my face,
So I may only see the narrow path ;
Not send desires outreaching into space,
But make mv soul content with that dim wav she
hath.
73
Songs of the Human
When in the vulley, like a child she trembled,
Eager to know what lay beyond the hills ;
When sorrow came, or daily cares assembled,
She marked the toiling river tm'n its mills,
And thought her life thus weary, till she craved
The laughing freedom of the mountain rills,—
And found herself by her desires the more enslaved.
In bondage to desire she gratifies
The darling wish, leaving the vale behind ;
And o'er the mountain finds,— not Paradise,
But paths more rugged, stronger cares to bind
Their burden on the toiler, fewer friends
To cheer with merry words and greetings kind :
She clambers on, but with the toil her dreaming
ends.
All this I knew, yet blindly loved my hope ;
Could say, my heart shall never suffer loss,
For I do gain therein the strength to cope
With seen and unseen powers, that heave and toss
The soul like drift upon the yeasty waves.
My Hope is dead, — the pathway of the cross
Is mine, whii^ yet my heart the human, lost love
craves.
74
Songs of the Human
But if true life be that which is " eternal,"
Then this is but a single deep-drawn breath,
Whereby I climb up, — up from the infernal,
To that supernal whei'e no dark- winged death
Can soar, no loss or change destroy ;
Help thou my soul that upward clambereth,
And doth not will to moui-n the dying of a joy.
DOUBT
How will it be when age hath made me hoar?
I whispered to one toying with my hair.
Who answered, "Then I shall but love thee more" !
And ere the silver threads were woven there
By sorrow's touch, the human change had come ;
But ev'n to hoar hairs thou thine own dost bear.
If I should fear thy change, my praying lips were
dumb !
i : '
God, may perfect love cast out all fear ;
1 do not doubt thee, yet false thoughts flit by,
And then I wonder art thou ever near,
Nearer than breath, than light that fills mine eye ;
Burn, burn the fear out with thy love divine.
Save me by fire, that so this cleansed " I "
Thee may reflect, and shine out love, love that is thine.
75
Songs of the Human
LONELINESS
One time methought this earth were very Heaven,
I saw all things made new as by a spell ;
Methought thy gift of love to me was given,
A helping love close to my heart to dwell, —
But ere I could exult, love's death took all.
I hear one, emptied thus, with glad face tell
That thou wilt give thyself, when gifts thou dost
recall.
Give me the truth-filled mind ; I crave not wealth,
Lest I become sick-bodied, selfish-hearted ;
I crave thy life, I crave exultant health
That triumphs most when selfishness is thwarted ;
Let me be fearless, certain thou has known
How it is best that loving hearts be parted.
And how tliou seest it good for m(> to be alone.
SUFFERING
This life he knows so well who was thy Son,
Thy likeness on the earth, to show thy heart ;
Friends fail, and of the people there is none
To know the agony, the bruise, the smart
That gives life for them, wdien thou to the lip
Dost press that cup ; yet they who choose this part.
With thee the Father, and the Son, gain feil<nvship !
76
Songs of the Hitman
But ill the trial, how is it that our dearest
Oft-times will sorest wrench our hearts with pain ?
Harsh judgments we can hear from friends the merest,
But loving much, would he heloved again.
Didst thou so '* learn ohedience " Holy One,
And sadly mark thy followers' loving wane 'f
Then we may joy to sutfer, for thou wert a Son ^
"Perfect through suff' ring ! " Captain, O my Captain,
Was it hy this thy life became complete ^
A garment such as mine is wert thou wrapt in ?
Then I can follow ! Send my willing feet
Upon thy errands, let my hands not shirk,—
Nor lips be silent when kind words are meet :
Help me to do thy will and finish dut thy \»'ork !
77
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Conclusion
^i I
1 am only a child, who is lying
On the bosom of Infinite Love ;
T speak not of living or dying,
I know not of sorrow and crying,
My thoughts are dwelling above.
The spring of the life that is flowing
Is hidden with Christ in God ;
Not yet the mystery knowing,
I feel that the peace is growing
As a river grows deep and broad.
All I need, without price I am buying
By my truot in the Goodness above ;
There 's an end ^o my yearning and sighing.
For just like a child I am lying
On the bosom of Infinite Love.
78
OF LIVING
g.
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The Dream of a Nihilist
In my sl(H'|>iiig last night, I drcaincd;
I had climhed with an cikHcss woe
The mountain of vision, (ragged anil seamed,
And a miiltituch^ liuimned below.
A numberless warrior-host,
Spears waving like grass in the field;
They cried: Now show ns the Chief we lK)ast,
Ho, bear him aloft on a shield !
Then a cloud, 'neath my feet, passed by.
Now tlie friends of the chieftain stood
On the upborne shields, and raised him high.
The King of the nudtitude.
Mist rose and the v^alley was hid,
Till a wind drave the fog-legions far,
Lo, the shields and men are a pyramid.
And highest of all, the Czar!
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Songs of the Human
But the toilet's on earth are eriuthed,
It i8 blood trickles out on the sod ;
Down, down over crag and abyss I rushed,
•'Save my bi-others, O merciful God!"
From the plain I cried to the Czar :
"Get you down; men are dying beneath;"
Then one (the scabbarded sword left a scar)
Smote wrathfully full in my teeth.
" Let the mouth of the traitor be gagged,—
Blasphemer, your God is the Czar ! "
"To the prison away let the vile wretch be
dragged
The peace of our Lord who would mar ! "
Then I woke at the shackles dull clank
To the cell and the chains that I knew ;
So powerless to save that my brave spirit sank,
For the dream I was dreaming is true.
88
Misconceptions
t i
I.
I TOIL over mount, through vale ;
You sail at ease on the sea,
The cool winds curving your snowy sail,
While suns beat with might upon me.
But I haijten on, for I know
I shall climb down a mountain side,
With a port in sight in the even glow.
While you cross the bar with the tide.
And then when our hands have met.
We shall know that the earth was kind
To keep us apart by the bounds she set.
That a stronger love we should find.
And whenever we join our hands,
For the future our way shall be
No longer a journey through weary lands,
But a path of gold t»'er the sea !
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Songs of the Human
II.
Yon roam o'er a sun-bright land,
Reach up to fruit-hulen trees ;
There is only salt-spray blown to my hand.
For my prow cuts the yeasty sea«.
When you in the shade recline,
And the day goes dreamfully by,
Do you think how danger and toil are mine
As I drive 'neath a low'ring sky ?
I shall reach the harbor at last,
The haven I long desired,
Where the sails will be furletl, the anchor cast.
And rest be found for the tii-ed.
Ah then, when we join our hands,
And the choice of our way is free.
We shall walk together o'er sunny lands,
And forget the toil of the sea !
84
June in Winter
A LL night there 's yellow lamplight flaring
Out to the gloom ;
All day white sunlight cometh staring
Into the room.
One lies there worn with pain's incessant burning,
With waiting for release his eyes grovf dim,
Scarcely he notes the sunny day's returning,
Day and the night are both alike to him.
She chose one from a bunch of roses,
And thither sent ;
He gazes joyfully, then closes
His eyes, content ;
The perfume wraps him, though the flower is
drooping,
And blessM sleep has granted him her boon.
How merrily in dreams old joys come trooping,
Sunlight and roses, all that makes it June I
85
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In Flood-Time
'T 18 sad to Hee it Htiiined with travel hurry,
The Htreaiii that welled up from the rock 8o clear,
Whereat drank little creatures shy and furry,
With • lack-heatl eyes that warily would peer
From leafy screen, to know if all the laughter
The little brook made, leaping there and here ;
Then was its childhood pure, befouling follows after.
It grew impatient, sheared the sandy bank
That turned its course; its waters, turbid now,
Bore off the spoil, while grasses trailing rank
Waved in the stream, as though some pallid brow
Were drowned beneath, and all the yellow hair
Floated like weeds at anchor ; mark you how
Back to the sun its sullen, yellow waters glare ?
Thus wius my life ; but I not hopeless gi-ow,
The stream will run and run till it be pure ;
And fain would I let fall the things I know
That I thought gain to learn, now scarce endure
To think upon, so foul they make the stream ;
Let memory fail to hold, time work its cure.
Till all that darkened past shall seem a faded dream !
Songs of the Human
Thou wilt not judge me, Loi-d, like men who see
Only the yellow tonent flecked with foam ;
Thou know'st how purely I came forth from The»',
And shall return, forgiven, to my home ;
This that deflles me is not me, nor mine,
T is of the earth whereon I needs nuist roam ,
It shall be lost, and I be filled with light divine
87
■il
AT THE Precipice
The trees shrink back from an open place
Where the rock leers out with its pallid face, —
From the road that winds among garden plats
You climb down a hill that the long grass mats
Like dead yellow hair, then your wayjyou thread
Among the live cedars, till just ahead
Is the space where boughs make a ring that shuts
All the world away, and a rock-stage juts
Out o'er the abyss ; —
For :he exit from life a way is here plain I
No red, horrid gash, no dull shot in the brain ;
Needs only to turn quick and let the foot slip.
The twigs lie in plenty, how easy to trip.
Then fall,— accidental— swift over the edge,
Seeing how the shrub-flngers cling to each ledge,
And the crannies hold safely their tufts of green moss.
Where the clambering vines their long feelers toss ;
Marking now where the lichens red-star the gray
wall,
88
Songs of the Human
Repenting, perhaps, there is time for it all, —
Down past the shore tree-tops, down, down, ever
down ;—
Now a white eddy spins on the wave's tawny brown.
And the cliffs echo hoarsely at loss of their prize, —
'T is an aml)er light shines on the scarce-opened eyes,
'T is the sound of far singing that hums in the ears,—
There is rest on the waters' breast, hushed from all
fears.
Crooned over and fondled; -and then, the long sleep.
Where the deep crystal lake the secret will keep I
***********
But the trees whispered to me, leaning forth as they
stood.
So I knew not mine yet was the rest I had wooed,—
And I trembled, as bird from the falcon escaped,
For in the temptation 't was hell that had gaped ;
Then I fled, though an influence fought with my will
Till clutching the grass I had climbed up the hill ;
And I knew it was Death's hand, no mortal can see,
That had drawn with the strength of its great
mystery.
89
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Sleepless
THE rose that opened to the world to-day,
Sleeps ;
The sun she loved 'mid glory went away
Behind the pines, but she will not betray
That sadness came upon her ; now she keept
Her perfume hid for him when he will rise.
Our rose-bud baby who hath great blue eyes,
Sleeps ;
He fain would be awake, but as he tries
To outglare darkness, sleep that he defies
Bears him a captive to its very deeps,
Whence he will waken to his joy again.
But round and round the mill-wheel of my brain
Sweeps ;
For night-long rises and rushes the ton-ent of pain,
The Silence itself is awake with the creak and the
strain
And the whirring of wheels ; blessM is one
who sleeps,
And like a fresh-opetl rose finds each new day I
90
;1#V
id is one
A Metanostic
I.
Vou were onco liko a .sparkling hnntk, my boy,
That gleamed in the snn and Hang ;
You were all my own, and the thought was joy,
I think of you now with a pang.
For you slipped away from the well-known lands.
The lands where I still abide ;
A multitude now can make demands
On the life grown deep and wide.
The fathers' faith had the hills about
To shut in our circle of sky ;
You have hurried off to the plains of doubt,
And you make of the hills a lie ;—
For you say the sky over all is wide.
And the hills make less our day,
There are larger faiths on the other side.
Longer smilight where you stray!
91
Songs of the Human
u.
I have not doHpiHod the placo of my birth,
At the hillH I hurl no curHe ;
They 're a speck in the wtirhl, but what i« oui' earth
But a speck in the Univei-se?
When I say, " I know not," where you are sure.
You think that mine is th(; lesser trust ;
Would you have me follow convention's lure.
To be "safe?"— I htul rather starve on a crust !
It is true like a river I cannot rest.
Each gain that I make is an impulse new;
You have known a good?— there is better, and best!
You hold a truth,— I seek the True.
So I joy in the gains from every side,
I rejoice that the stream grows brtuul ;
I thrilled with peace when I felt the tide.
For what if the sea be,— (Jod!
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93
Out of the Bay
Qo long I have triiiiiiied an idle nail.
Coasting the shores that I knew ;
Swept along by the tempered gale
That over rose-gawlens blew ;
But I hear at last a stormy note
From the great wide sea ;— I shall make it mine,
Shall tack in the splash of its angry brine,
The head-winds shall sail my boat !
happy and still is the sheltered bay.
That forever is left behind !
The terraced gardens, the laughter gay.
The whisper of balmy wind,—
But welcome the ocean, I fight not flee,
Shriek out O Storm, wild waves leap higher !
1 steer for the haven of my desire,
The sun-lands beyond the sea.
I (
93
The Course of Life
I.
•T* HE white-faced mother oped her languid eyes,
" A man-child now is thine," they said, " rejoice 1""
And in that thought she bound him by the ties
Of all his needs and likings, till the Voice
Spake not within him ; love that could not wait
Became for him inexorable Fate.
There came a day he questioned, " What am I ? "
One day when mourners went along the streets,
" Am I some plaything, moved until I die
By others' thought? Why then this heart that
beats.
This will with Custom's tyranny at strife—
I am no tool of fate, I am a Life!"
94
IH.*;
Songs of the Human
II.
♦• Who dares make laws for me, who am a King !
Behold my freedom : how shall I be boimd,
Fearing no future, no past reverencing?"
Thus wrestled he with fate, until he found.
The Furies not pursued but dwelt within,—
He crowned self over God, and so knew Sin.
Then from the tortured self he looked abroad
On multitudes that sighed with every breath ;
And when he helped them, lo, he learned of God,
And Him who loved men even unto death ;
Then God's will set he all his own above.
And life eternal came, for he knew Love.
95
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Alone
\X7e enter life alone, alone,
We die conipanionless ;
And many pathways of her own
The soul must walk alone, alone.
In gloom of bitterness.
O days when summer hath reprieve !
O yellow leaves astir
With joy exultant ! who would grieve
While 'mong the sun-rays breezes weave
Bright threads of gossamer ?
" How shall a grief be ever known ?"
" How ever darkness come ?"
Glad voices mingle with our own ;
Yet soon, too soon, we walk alone,
The light that sang grown dumb.
96
Songs of the Human
But inward lights will flash a song,
(Sing heart, trill like a bird!)
The thought of friends whose love is strong,
A shining look remembered long,
A last love-spoken word,—
Till through the heart joy sends its thrill
As if the day-star shone.
Strong am I, friends, in your good will ;
I walk dim paths and fear no ill,
Alone, yet not alone I
■1
97
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Iff!
li
Three Changes
I.
LI E loves not,— dweller on the lonely plain,
Fares like his oxen, labors till the night.
Sleeps through the dark ; can prophesy of rain.
Yet no life's vision rises to his sight.
He loves, — and now the city hums about ;
Lights night-long glare; a great new world he
tries ;
Learns mysteries pure, finds hellish secrets out.
Lives, wildly lives, - and then the sooner dies
II.
He loves not,— labors on with earnest sadness,
Seeking in pain to bless the sorrowing;
Seldom his weary eyes grow bright with gladness.
The helpless drag him downward as they cling.
9S
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Songs of the Human
He loves,— behold new wondrous life-tides gather,
He hath no weariness since love came in ;
Now is he to the orphans truly father.
And sunshine in the dim abodes of sin.
III.
He loved not,— free as wild-horse on the prairie
He roamed, the mountain knew him and the sea.
Wild birds sang to him, shy things were not wary,
P'or one of them, and one they loved was he.
He loves,— for him the forests now are waiting,
The wind seeks after him the whole day long.
But he is prisoned with a golden grating.
By one who fain would hear his mournful song.
ini
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Embarking
P AR into the sea the headland slopes,
'Mong the wave-crests white ;
Down under the cliff the twilight gropes,
To herald Night.
To the west she flits with never a sound ;
And its fires wax dim,
Till the white half-ring of the moon is found,
'Neath a red-cloud's rim.
The cliffs gaze down on the pebbled beach.
Dark-browed and sage.
Where the waves that seek them, but cannot
reach.
Are hoarse with rage.
100
Songs of the Human
There are men thus breasting each wind of doubt.
While the waves are far, -
But into their tunuilt must I thrust out,
To follow a star.
Though waves be endless out under the dark
I needs must go.
Else my life would be such a broken ai-c
As the moon can show 1
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Praise
<
* 4 Y^^ ^^^^^ »ny song, and thank the poet?"
Praises thrill me like old wine,
Heart is happy and must show it,
And eyes glisten as they shine.
Blushes quicken, see I tremble,
But mistake not these signs, pray I
If this were pride, I should dissemble,—
It is pure joy, not vanity.
1 02
Criticism
L IKE a child in passion crushing sweet flowers,
The -smiles of God," in his hand,
So with our thoughts have been critics of ours,
Who destroy ere the beauty be scanned.
The work of the spring-time, of sunshine and air.
Destroyed in a moment's caprice I
Shall wrath overset what the long years prepare,
Vindictiveness judge against Peace ?
The moods of the poet are manifold,
Judge ye then the bloom of the mood,-
Do ye ask for the rose-bloom in winter's cold,
Snow-drops in the summer-wood ?
103
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From "the Diary of a Lonely Soul"
LOVE ENTHRONED
/^NE baptism, one Lord, one faith, one flock,
One shepherd and one God, Father of all I
How in that fold have there been battle-shock,
Fierce words of envy, slaver's whip and thrall.
Weeping of children, needy begging food.
The shivering outcast's agonizing call
To thee ? It is that men not yet believe thee Good I
Father, in thine own image thou hast made us,
Then made thyself like us, that we might hear,
(As if 't were lowly human voice that prayed us)
Thy pleading love, in Christ the Lord brought near;
'T is ever new, that oft-repeated story, -
He "first-born" came, now multitudes appear.
His brethren, in whose faces we "behold thy glory."
104
Songs of the Human
M
He dawned " through tender mist of maidenhood,"
The heavenly host broke forth in song afar,
Around him wondering, humble shepherds stood,
The Magi found him by the flaming star ;
H<mor and gifts and gladness everywhere
Greeted the Child,— but blind with joy they are,
Can they not see the shadow of the cross is there ?
Good!
r,
us)
t near;
'T was like a swoi'd-thrust piercing to the heart.
When that glad mother, after many days,
St<3od in the shadow of the cross, apart, —
Thought of his birth, and of the angels' praise.
And of this end ; — O God, to hui. an sight
How dark, past understanding are thy ways ;
Must all this he, ere he become the world's light ?
Yet it behoved the ('hrist to suffer, so
The kingdom he began grows world-wide ;
Let Caesar's dream of world-empire go,
A lowly Child is givater than his pride !
The power of love is king o'er love of power,
He with the nail-torn hands and pierced side,
Through that love-sacrifice the world to peace will
bring !
y gl<^i-y."
105
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Songs of the Human
And tht'ii shall power be given to the lowly,
" A little child shall lead "; then war and fend,
Hatred and wrath, shall meet with one so holy
They shall be death-struck ; and the ravening brood
Of wickedness shall die like flame unfed ;—
Then Love with kinglihood shall be indued.
The Lamb that hath been slain to power's high
summit led !
COMPANIONSHIP
Black lacing branches 'gainst a coal-red sky,
Small clouds like boats of cherry flame adrift,
Wind pure and keen,— and part of all stand I,
Watching the road yon grass-ridge seems to lift
Up to that sea whose lighthouse is a star ;
Speak thou, Bestower,— lo, I am thy gift,
Gift less worth than the wind if aught thy loving bar !
Alone, they say, when it is thou who art
My Other One, —thou Maker, I the made, —
More near to me than beating mother-heart
Is near the peaceful sleeping infant laid
On her soft breast ; such tokens thy love sends,
For very joy almost I am afraid
At red upflush of morn and glorious ev'ning-ends.
io6
Songs of the Human
THE POTTER
Thou art the Potter, and we ai'<« tho clay,
But U8 thy work thou filh»Ht with thy breath I
Despise his work the earthly potter may,
And in caprice send his creation death ;
But thou, even as a mother broods above
Her child, thy parent-love us comforteth.
So we not Potter call thee, but our Father-Love.
PRAYER
One wishes famine, so his gain be best,
One asks for plenty, so his children feast ;
One homeward beating prays the wind be west.
One outward sailing thanks God for the east ;
One prays for sunshine on his dripping fields.
His neighbor thanks God for the rain increased.
Thankful alone when prayer some selfish blessing
yields.
I think that prayer is not to ask and ask.
Prayer is to be in heart with Thee made one ;
Not to complain at whatsoever task
Thou mak'st our discipline ; "thy will be d(me,"
To say, and feel thy presence ever near.
This is to pray alway ; no height is won
By whining at its foot, to please a god by fear.
107
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Songs of the Human
DOGMA
Dogmas I do not make about my friend,
Of whom the best always remains to know ;
And shall I think to make of Thee an end
By some cold-hearted words? These only show
How small my thinking, and my love how meagre.
But let me follow on with thee, and grow
In grace and truth like thee ; my heart is childish-
eager I
There is a picture of thee in my heart ;
Within the narrow frame of any creed
I place it not ; methinks that if thou art,
For whom our hearts cry out in their great need,
We want no more ; here be the arms of rest
For weary ones ; why shut men out indeed.
Defining thoughts when we should make thee
manifest ?
BELIEFS
Some old belief fades out ; I look around,
"My Lord is taken, and I know not where,"
I cry like Mary ; how my heart doth bound
Like hers, when I do find thee, yet more fair,
And say " Rabboni." Now mine eyes
Can see the truth ; no more by words I dare
To hold thee in a sepulchre whence thou must rise.
1 08
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Songs of the Human
Sometimes my Lord I think to magnify
When some new flash of light will dazzle me,
And clam'rously, " New truth is mine," I cry.
In heart despising those who do not see ;
But lo, whereto man's utmost thought may range,
New findings are, of truth not new, in thee,—
For all has been and is in thee who dost not change.
TRUTH
For us Truth is a harvest sown and reaped,
Seed for the future, for the present food ;
Men hold it better in the granary heaped.
Who tremble lest an ancient faith, once good.
Be buried that it grow like blades of grain,- '
Yet would they seek to feed a nmltitude
With sef-ds in some sarcophagus that long had lain ?
And men who think that Jong ago thou gavest
To those who sought, but now dost give no uiore,-
Who think 't is sacrifice, not lovr thou cravest.
Hear sadly when we say an open door
For every soul awaits ; and yet they live
For children dear, not thinking how nuich more
Thou liv'st for us, and wilt thy guiding Spirit give.
109
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Songs of the Human
So forward, forward lead me thou, my God,
That I may enter boundless truth's domain ;
I look not back to paths which others trod,
Beaten by following multitudes, who gain
Through chosen leaders, truth ; I follow thee
Close, close, that none between profane
Thy clear, white truth with self -soiled hands, and give
to me.
IDEAL
A LIFE thou givest me in one huge block.
Of my Lord Christ so let me have the vision.
That I may chisel with unsparing shock
The self away, make sharp and clean incision.
And shape like his my spirit ; what though men
Him greeted with despisal and derision, —
Their clay ideals crumble into dust again ;
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While that one life grows fairer with the ages,
As men learn beauty, and can love the real ;
With deities of earth his meekness wages
Perpetual war, for so would he reveal
That they be idols, senseless, false and vain, —
That love^ not getting, in true life's ideal ;
And they who follow, the eternal Sonship gain.
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The Universal Gift
Q AzRAEL, thy pinions near me sweep,
I feel upon my brow their wind blow cold ;
Back to my heart the spent life-forces creep,
That fortress soon an icy hand will hold.
Why should I fear whom God will send to all,
To kiss the eyes, and smooth from care the brow?
I love the dusk at quiet even-fall,
'T is well, my toilsome day hath twilight now.
His royal blessings with an equal hand
God gives to all: the joyous light of day
To good and evil ; rain upon the land,
Though ten with curses reap, where one will pray.
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Songs of the Human
And life He gives to all, and love, and death,
O Friends, chose life, — beyond a world of gain ;
Seek love, not fame, and then why pray for breath
When one conies nigh to proffer peace for pain ?
Not gold or lands I leave, nor praise of men.
But I have lived, and loved, and now 't is well
That I should know the giver ; v/elcome then
Thou messenger of peace, white Azrael I
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THE YIELDING OF PILATE
A DRAMA
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THE YIELDING OF PILATE
[Scene '.-Pilate^sHor^e; Friday, April 7th, A.D. 30
The murmur of voices heard outside]
Pilate. 'T is early for these fanatics
To clamor to the judgment-seat ;
Their long-beard priests deceitfully
Arouse in them perpetual heat,
Yet must I quiet the uproar . . .
They are a people pestilent,
The city 's crammed with nuiltitudes
Alive with smouldering hates and feuds,
'T will be as Tartarus had vent . . .
What want they there beyond the door?
[He goes out to them, muttering to himself]
Oho, chief priests, and their nuich-learnkl scribes,
Rabbis and elders, head-men of the tribes;
A prisoner too, whr silent hears their jibes,
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Sortgs of the Human
And stands amid their jostling like a man ;
He 's won their hate somehow.
[To the People]
Why come ye here
With noise and tumult ere the time he near
For judgment ? —fear ye that ye could not fan
Your fierceness into blaze some later hour I
A Voice. For sentence come we, thine is made the
power.
Pilatp. What accusation bring ye then ?
Am I mere echo of your hatred's whim!
Caiaphas. Before you stand the city's chiefest men.
Would such as we come hither wanting cause,
Or bring one unconvicted by our laws?
Pilate. Your laws, indeed! Strange laws have ye ;
Take ye and judge your prisoner then, —
Why have ye brought him bound to me ?
Voices. We have a law that he should die.
Yet we no power to crucify . . .
Yea, Roman law gives him the cross.
For he the nation doth subvert.
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The Yielding of Pilaie
Forbidding tribute, CVsar's loss . . .
To Caesar's self he doeth hurt,
Clcaiming that he is Christ, our King
Pilate. A harmless rival of the Ctesar, this !
Some poor demented peasant's son they bring,
A dreamer hatred only might accuse-
Within, I '11 question whence his kingdom is.
[He retires into the residence, and Jesus is brought
before him, to ivhom he speaks with kindly
amusement]
Art thou King of these stubborn Jews ?
Jesus. From what you see, think you I am a king
Claiming such wordly rule as Caesar may?
Or take you words that my accusers say.
Whom you but know too well false charges bring?
Pilate. Am I a Jew, that I should take from priests
My thought? I know xiot who thou art.
But they are stubborn, like the very beLts,
So I must judge thee for my part ;
Tell me what hast thou done ?
Jesus. My kingdom is not of this world.
Else would my followers pierce yon throng,
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And these loud Jews to death he hurled,
That I go free ;— let force helong
To earthly empires for defence, —
Now is my kingdom not from hence.
Pilate. Art thou indeed a King ?
Jesu8. Thou sayest it. A King indeed I am ;
To this end was I horn, for this cause came
Into the world,— to show the strength and caliu
Of Truth ; and for my kingdom do I claim
All who are of the truth; my voice they hear,—
Art thou a seeker ?
Pilate. What is truth ?
{Rising abruptly^ he goes out with Jesus to the Jews,
muttering petulantly]
I cannot bide these wranglers
Who seek with words to daze,
Trident-and-net entanglers
Who spear with three-pronged phrase ;
For priests and women let them babble.
For me, the sword best guides the rabble ;
A man of action, I, a Roman,
Your babbling Greek, I count him no man,
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The Yielding of Pilate
Buzzing about for something " new "—
And better be a dog than be a Jew I
[To the Jcivs] Here i^ fVi^ i»„., n i
J neie is tne man, the charge holds
not,—
I find in him no fault at all.
Voices. "No fault at aliv"-when he hath sought
The people everywhere to stir
Lo, we condemned him by our law . . .
Here is a Roman Governor
Friendly to treason ... If C^sar saw . . .
Pilate Peace to your noise, ye clamorous multitude.-
If he be " king." where are his men at arms ?
If he rebelled, how raised he no alarms ?
Voices. Yea so he hath, at Gadara . . .
He scourged me from the temple space . . .
He drave my cattle from its court
My money-tables he threw down
Lewd fellows are his chosen friends
He controverts our Rabbi's teaching,
Crowds leave their work to hear his preaching.
In all their minds the ferment works ...
In Galilee sedition lurks,
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5o«^s of the Human
There he began his work accursed,
Beware lest here the tiiiiiult burst . , .
Pilate. [Speaking to himself]
They hate him well, —How fierce they grow,
And he not moved ! Would I might know
The truth, and why they hate him so.
[To Jetius]
Dost thou not hear the charges these have brought?
Thou art a rioter if they speak true, —
[Jesus is silent]
Art stubborn then, and wilt not answer me, —
Or canst not, since the charges be not few ?
[Jesus answers him to never a loord, and the Governor
speaks thu^ with himself]
This is a marvel, how he bears the lash
Of these fierce tongues, and stands there like a king ;
And yet, methinks, he hath a power could fiash
Quick answer to their lies. So in the ring
I 've seen a mighty lion scorn to smite
The hounds that bayed him, fearing yet to bite.
I marvel greatly . . . but there must be end,—
Herod is here, tetrarch of Galilee ;
A Galilean thither I may send.
So free my hands, — the man I fain would free.
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The Yielding of Pilate
[ To the Jews] Whence came this Christ, your king ?
A Voice. From Galilee.
Pilate. Take him to Herod then ; he fain would see
A rival King thus bound, a king not crowned.
[ TJie people deport and Pilate is left alone]
They are a clamorous, wild, unruly horde ;
J 'd rather war with strong-limbed savages,
Through bogs, or woods, or mountain fastnesses.
Than keep the peace for them, with whom the sword
Should argue best. Sejanus knows them well.
And to their prejudice hath taught Tiberius,
Else when their delegates myself denounced
At Rome, some one of their half-thousand threats
Had reached his ear. A spawn of Tartarus
They are, — pleasant as smoke is to the eyes.
How fiercely keen when their religion whets
Their hate ; methought I should not be pronounced
A weakling ruler, yielding to their cries.
Yet when my legions garrisoned the place.
And set their standards with the Emperor's face
Pictured thereon, behold, the temple priests
Called them false gods, and sent a howling throng
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Songs of the Human
To Caesarea, where for five days long,
Night-long as well, they wailed like starving beasts,
Prone on the ground before my very gates, —
Feared not my soldiers, made their bosoms bare
Unto the threat'ning swords ; I cursed the Fates,
Yet from Antonia took the standards down.
Now 't is a man they hate ; on him they glare
Like Avolves that hunger for their prey ; no crown
Could make him kinglier, — no Jew is he,
They are but dogs ; — I should have set him free
[ Tumult outside, and clamoring ]
Tumult again ? Methinks I suffer long
That superstitious, priest-misguided throng,
[ Goes out ; they hrhig Jesus from Herod ]
What now ? It cannot be that Herod sends
The prisoner back to me ? Lo, he hath mocked
The man, not set him free ; though we be friends
I think him but a fool,— this peasant-king
A greater soul. I shall not now be baulked
By any brazen-throated clamoring
[ He calls the chief priests and rulers together before
the judgment-seat, and thus addresses them, ]
Ye have been crying out for death to one
Than ye yourselves who is more innocent ;
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The Yielding of Pilate
Ye say he insurrects, that people run
To him, refusing tribute, yet have proved
No word of this to me,-nor when ye went
To Herod could ye show that that it behoved
His majesty to slay a rival king I
I therefore find no fault, but lest ye bring
Some new king-claimant, I will scourge this man,
( 'T is almost death ) so wisdom's fear may warn '
Like-minded leaders 'mong you lest they plan
To overset the empire through their scorn,-
[Enfer a messenger] What now? Who sends?
Messenger. My mistress bade me haste ;
She saith : It is a just man they have brought
Before thy judgment-seat . . . that thou beware
Lest thou condenm . . . that she because of him
This day hath suffered many things in dreams.
[ Meantime the voices busily ichisper to the people]
Pilate. [Aside] I shall have care ; this doth confirm
my thought
Dreams may be naught,- if Gods have sent, beware I
Now I behold as through the smoke of pitch
Lurid fire-gleamings, how that envy burns
Within these shrewd high-priests ; they would enrich
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Songs of the Human
Themselves by their religion,— this man turns
From them the people's favor. At this feast
Some prisoner to the people is released ;
Sure I may trust their vote to chose this Christ,
So rid me of him, spite of Pharisee and Priest.
[ To the people] Ye have a custom that your desire
Each passover the Governor should bring
A prisoner forth to you ; whom will ye now.
Robber Barrabas, or this Christ, your king ?
The Priests. [ Whispering eagerly] Barrabas I Say
Barrabas ! Not this man !
Voices. [ Clamoring ] Give us Barrabas, take this
man away !
Pilate. Choose ye Barrabas then ?— a murderer !
Voices. Yea, so we choose, thou mayst not gainsay ;
Barrabas give us, take this man away !
Pilate. [Aside] They 're howling wolves, these
priests, wool-clad who seem,
And those sheep follow, bleating what they say ;
I would that r could baulk the wild beasts of their prey.
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The Yielding of Pilate
ITothe » ] And is then Barraba. that ye choose ?
What shall I do with Jesus, called the Christ
No robber, but a king ( ye call him ) of the Jews ?
The Priests. iS,^^„esUna•i Crucify him ... crucify . .
VoU^s. iClamoHngl Away with him. let hi„, be
crucified I
Pilate. Ye know not what ye cry,
Bethink you, would ye have your King to die ?
Voices. [Wildly] Crucify him, crucify •
Death for him . . . Crucify . . . Death on the cross . . .
^late I speak the third time, and I tell you, Nay !
Why tell ye not what evil he hath done ^
Ye come for judgment, yet ye prove not one
Ot many charges ; shall I therefore slay
The innocent to please your clamor ? Nay
I shall but scourge him and then let him go.
Voices. He shall not go I Let him be cn.cifiedl
IGreatU^r^nat] Crucify him I Nail hin. to the cross
W e chose Barrabas. take this man away I
Away with him, and crucify ...
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Songs of the Human
Pilate. [Afiide] My word can not prevail, it is a fire
The priests have lit, — resisting were as fuel,
Each moment fiercer burn they with desire ;
None but religionists are found so devil-cruel !
[Bidding a messenger bring water]
Peaco to this tumult I See, I wash my hands,
Ye know the sign — I hold me innocent
If any blood of this just man be shed ;
See ye to it !
Voices. His blood be on our head I
On us and on ovir children be his blood !
Away with him, let him be crucified . . .
[The voices of them and of the chief priests prevail]
Pilate. [Aside] By all the gods I would it were not
so, —
Yet must I make this clamorous throng content.
Who knoweth how their riotings may grow ;
Yet by the gods, tr> save the man I meant.
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[To the people.] Have then your will, Barabbas
is released, —
A murderer and rebel ye do choose ;
And this man Jesus, Christ-king of the Jews,
I give U) denth ; his blood be on your priest
('aiaphas, and on ye who now refuse
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The Yielding of Pilate
To save the guiltless. Praise ye at your feast
The God who hath inspired you.
[Aside] He is least
Of all the Gods, that he doth worship crave
From men half devils and a priest whole knave.
[ While the Jews 2calt outside of the residence, the sol-
dters lead Jesus away into the common hall ; and
there as custom allowed them to do with condemned
crxmhuils, they mock him with barrack-room
humor; pressing a circle of twisted thorns on his
head, for a croicn ; placing in his hands a reed for
a..ceptre, which they again snatch atcay , and with
^t mmte him over the head, tliey how before him as
to a king, then rising spit upon his face. Also
they scourge him, but so patient is the sufferer
amid all the indignity and pain, that the soldiers
^^<^omeatved, and the centurion declares, '^ Surely
this IS a Just man."]
Pilate. [Speaking with himself]
This case doth trouble me ; a life is naught
That one should fear to pierce it through to gain
His own content ; the innocent are slain
On every side, -yet would I none had brought
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This man to me ; I '11 bid him forth again,
And mayhap save him, so methinks I ought.
[ Going forth and ascending the platform before the
gate he speaks to the people ]
I bring this Jesus forth to you again
That you may know I find in him no crime.
I Wti'le the prisoner is slowly led forward, crowned
fr,^h thorns, and wearing the soldier's red cloak
whhi was piU on in mockery, the vast crowd is
Hle7ti
Pilate. [ i'l atv . 'j f heir faces and speaking to himself]
Methinks these cruel priests must yet be men.
The pangs of death I 've gazed on many a time,
Yet in my heart did pity never wake
As now, — he cometh quiet as a lamb
To brutal slaughter ; nay, I cannot make
Him suffer more, — hard-hearted that I am
To lacerate with scourging one so meek.
They call me heathen, these ecclesiasts.
Forsooth I care not for their feasts and fasts,
Yet almost pallor to my soldier's cheek
Their wild hate brings, — in Tartarus the lost
So burn with rage. The people silent scan
This patient Christ,— methinks they count the cost
Of cruelty, and hearts grow pitiful.
[Jesics is brought beside him, and he turns to the
people^ expecting their sympathy, saying]
128
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The Yielding of Pilate
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Behold the man I
The Priests, Crucify him I Crucify I
Pilate No fault at all in him find I. ye know.
ft>o take him ye I and crucify !
The Priests. Thou crucify ! Away with him !
We judged him in the Sanhedrim ;
Saith he, The Son of God am I,
And by our law he ought to diL I
Pilate. Uside] Dreams warn me and my heart that
shrinks,
Lest I condenm one whom the Gods befriend •
The man I '11 ask if there be links
'Tween God and him,-then shall I make an end.
[Gohig back into the judgment-hall where Jesus
taken, he saith to him]
I pray thee tell me, Whence art thou ?
[Jesus gives him no ansirer]
Wilt thou not speak ? Dost thou not know
My hand hath power to crucify,
And my word power to let thee' go ?
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Songs of the Human
JeauH. Thyself against ine hast no power,
Yet lo, from heaven the power is given ;
But they who bring nie to this ho\u%
Theirs is a greater sin than thine.
Pilate, [Aside] Theirs is a greater sin than mine ?
Then with them shall I have no part.
Full often man must yield to fate,
Seem to be cruel when his heart
Is tender, — yea, but these men hate
Maliciously : I'll set this Jesus free !
[To the People.] Ye come to me for judgment,
then hear ye :
I say ye have no case, no fault I find;
No crime death-worthy hath this Jesus done ;
I will he be set free, not crucified.
He hath been scourged, — methinks no other one
Thus warned will tumult raise ; it is denied
That he be slain ; of further clamor then beware.
Voices. Thyself beware, beware I
If thou let this man go
Thou art not Caesar's friend . . . Beware I
For we to Rome can send,
And this clear treason show . . . Beware !
He saith he is a king,
Is that not anything ? . . . Beware !
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All men he doth subvert,
Is that not Caesar's hurt ? . . . Beware !
Who for himself a kingdom seeketh
Against great Caesar speaketh . . .
Pilate. [Aside] To set him free although my heart
is willing,
Ever • I dare not ' beateth down ' I would ' ;
Strange that a peasant's blood I shrink from spilling,
Yet so I must ; who knoweth how this mood
May lead these fury-breathing rebel-hearted Jews
Even to Rome to bear some treason-charge.
Rebels are they, a rebel do they choose,
But, one more time my grace I will enlarge,
Christ sure hath followers will choose him yet.
[To the soldiers.] Let the man be set,
Before his countrymen.
[Jesus is set forth, and Pilate sits injiidginent]
[To the people] Behold your King I
Voices. Away with him I . . . and crucify !
The cross, the cross ! . . . Away with him ! . . .
Pilate. Lo, I am patient, — do I hear a cry
That I indeed should crucify your king ?
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Songs of the Human
The Priests. We have no king but Cwsar !
Thou art pressing
This man's false claims till loyal hearts are guessing
Thou hast some scheme of rule. Grant us our choice,
Hast thou not ears to hear the people's voice ?
Pilate. Have then your will ; let him be crucified.
[The soldiers take Jesus and lead him aivay]
They, loyal hearts ? As flame refuses tow.
And ocean shipwrecks, they refuse sedition.
And I must please them, lest rebellion show,
Who would be ruler, ruled by such condition I
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