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I I Opposing pages with varying colouration or ' — ' discolourations are filmed twice to ensure the best possible image / Les pages s'opposant ayant des colorations variables ou des decol- orations sont filmtes deux fois afin d'obtenir la meilleur image possible. D AddWonal comnunts / Commentaires suppl^mentairas: Thii ittffl i< f ilmad at Iht raduetion ratio chackad bakm/ C« documenl ast ftlmi au taux da rMuction indtqui ct-denout. 10X 14X 1IX 22X MX »X — ■J ux liX XX 2«X 28 X MX Th* copy filmed har* hai bMn raproduead thanki 10 tha ganarotity of: National Library of Canada Tha imagas appaaring hara ara tha baat quality poaiibia conaidaring tha condition and laglbillty of tha original copy and in kaaping with tha filming contraet apacif Icationa. Original eoplaa in printad papar covara ara flimad baginning with tha front eovar and anding on tha laat paga with a printad or liluatratad impraa- aion. or tha back covar whan appropriata. All othar original eopiaa ara filmad baginning on tha f irat paga with a printad or liluatratad impraa- aJon, and anding on tha laat paga with a printad or liluatratad improaaion. Tha laat racordad frama on aach mierofleha ahall contain tha symbol ^» Imaaning "CON- TINUED"), or tha symbol ▼ Imaaning "END"), whichavar appliaa. Maps, platas. charts, ate. may ba filmad at diffarant raduction ratios. Thosa too larga to ba ontiraly includad in ona axpoaura ara filmad baginning in tha uppar laft hand cornar. laft to right and top to bottom, as many framaa as requirad. Tha following diagrams illustrata tha mathod: 1 2 3 1 2 4 5 L'Mamplsir* film* fut raproduit gric* i la gtntroait* da: Blbllotheque Rationale du Canada Laa imagaa tuivantaa ont ttt raproduita* avac la plua grand aoin. compta tanu da la condition at da la nattai* da I'axamplaira filmt, at an conf ormlM avac laa conditlona du eontrat da nimaga. Laa aaamplalraa originaS \i '7 i8 '9 20 22 23 2S 26 26 29 31 32 33 36 36 A MOUNTAIN GATEWAY THE HOMESTEAD AT SUNRISE AT TWILIGHT NIGHT LYRIC WEATHER OF THE SOUL WOODLAND RAIN THE TENT OF NOON SUMMER STORM DANCE OF THE SUNBEAMS THE CAMFFIRE OF THE SUN MOONRISE THE QUEEN OF NIGHT SUMMER STREAMS THE GOD OF THE WOOD THE GIFT THE GIVERS OF LIFE IN THE DAY OF BATTLE PEACE TREES IN OCTOBER A FIRESIDE VISION THE BLUE HERON A WINTER PIECE THE GHOST-YARD OF THE GOLDENROD BEFORE THE SNOW WINTER TWILIGHT A CHRISTMAS EVE CHORAL THE SENDING OF THE MAGI CHRISTMAS SONG WINTER STREAMS 43 ♦I 47 *f 48 SO SI 5» S2 S3 S4 S4 fl ? 67 68 68 § 70 76 viii 43 4; 46 47 48 48 50 SI 52 52 53 54 54 II 57 58 63 63 64 65 66 67 68 68 69 70 76 APRIL AIRS ' ^ ; '^"^T?n?,l\^*^^ PASTURE. I Sy ^ "'* *'°°y pasture Tu ./' "° °"* «'se will have. In tranquil contemplation It watches through the year See'ig the frosty stars arise,' 1 ne slender moons appear. Its music is the rain-wind. Its choristers the birds, And there are secrets in its heart Too wonderful for words. It keeps the bright-eyed creatures I hat play about its walls, Though fone aeo its millcing herds Were banished from their staUs. Only the children come there. For buttercups in May, Or nuts in autumn, where it lies Dreaming the hours away. Long since its strength was given Jo makin|; good increase, And now its soul is turned again To beauty and to peace. There in the early springtime The violets are blue. And adder-tongues in coats of ffold Are garmented anew. * i 1 Tht There bayberry and aster Dttrrui A.g crowded on its floors, f"*^- When marching summer halts to praise The Lord of Out-of-doors. And there October passes In gorgeous livery,— In purple ash, and cnmson oak, And golden tulip tree. And "-.iien the winds of winter Their bugle blasts begin. The snowy hosts of heaven arrive To pitch their tents therein. THE OLD GRAY WALL. TIME out of mind I have stood Fronting the frost and the sun. That the dream of the world might endure, And the goodly will be done. Did the hand of the builder guess. As he laid me stone by stone, A heart in the granite lurked. Patient and fond as his own? Lovers have leaned on me Under the summer moon. And mowers laughed in my shade In the harvest heat at noon. xl sun, ;ht endure, IS, de Children roving tlie fields r*, ow Witli early flowers in spring, ''"''' '*''"• Old men turning to look, When they heard a bluebird sing. And travellers along the road From rising to setting sun, Have seen, yet imagined not The kindnesb they gazed upon. Ah, when will ye underscand, Mortals, — nor deem it odd, Who rests on this old gray wall Lays a hand on the houlder of God I BLOODROOT. WHEN April winds arrive And the soft rains are here, bome morning by the roadside These gipsy folk appear. We never see their coming. However sharp our eyes; Each year as if by magic They take us by surpnse. Alone the ragged woodside And by the green spring-run, Their small white heads are nodding And twinkling in the sun. Bltcdrtt. 11 They crowd across the meadow In innocence and mirth, As i{ there were no sorrow In all the lovely earth- So frail, so unregarded, — And yet about them chng» That exquisite perfection, The soul of common things ! Think you the sprirging pastures Their starry vigil kept. To hear along the midnight Some message, while we slept? How else should spring requicken Such glory in the sod ? I guess that trail of beauty Is where the ange) Uod. EARTH VOICES. I HEARD the spring wind whisper Above the brushwood fire, " The world is made forever Of transport and desire. " I am the breath of being. The primal urge of things ; 1 am the whirlof star dust, I am the lift of wings. 4 I am the splendid impulse F.arH That comes before the thought, '''••"•■ The joy and exaltation Wherein the life is caught. "Across the sleeping furrows I call the buried seed, And blade and bud and blossom Awaken at my need. " Within the dying ashes I blow the sacred sparic, And make the hearts of lovers To leap against the dark." II I heard the spring light whisper Above the dancing stream. " The world is made forever In likeness ci a dream. "I am the law of planets, I am the guide of man j The evenmg and the morning Are fashioned to my plan. " I tint the dawn with crimson, I tinge the sea with blue; My track is in the desert. My trail is in the dew. " I paint the hills with color, And in my magic dome I light the star of evening To steer the traveller home. E,rtk " Within the home of being, VIM. 1 feed the lamp of truth With talcs of ancient wisdom And propheciea of youth. Ill I heard the spring rain -lurmur Above the roadside flower, •' The world is made forever In melody and power. " I keep the rhythmic measure That marks the steps of time, And all my toil is fashioned To symmetry and rhyme. « I plow the untilled upUnd, I ripe the seeding grass, And fiU the leafy forest With music as I pass. •' 1 hew the raw rough granite To loveliness of line, . And when my work is finished. Behold, it is divine I " I am the master-builder In whom the ages '.rust. I lift the lost perfection _^ To blossom firom the dust. 6 IV Then Earth to them made answer. As with a slow refrain Born of the blended voices Of wind and sun and rain, "This is the law of being That linlcs the threefold chain: The life we give to beauty Returns to us again." Karik Vaitn. NOW IS THE TIME OF YEAR. lyrOW IS the time of year -jl When all the flutes begin,— The redwmt .old and clear. The rainbird far and thin. In all the waking lands There 's not a wilding thing But knows and understands The burden of the spring. Now every voice alive By rocky wood and stream Is lifted to revive The ecstasy, the dream. For Nature, never old. But busy as of yore, From sun and rain and mould Is making spring once more. 7 'I Nmi is tkt She sounds her magic note ^'"""■^ *'""'■ By river-marge and hill, And every woodland throat Re-echoes with a thrill. O mother of our days, Hearing thy music call, Teach us to know thy ways And fear no more at all 1 BUE NOW THE LILAC TREE'S IN NOW the lilac tree 's in bud. And the morning birds are loud, Now a stirring in the mood Moves the heart of every crowd. Word has gone abroad somewhere Of a great impending change. There 's a message in the air Of an import glad ard strange. I Not an idler in the street, But is better off to-day. Not a traveller you meet. But has somethmg wise to say. Now there 's not a road too long, Not a day that is not good, Not a mile but hears a song Lifted from the misty wood. 8 Wi?h fh. * ''■"" "*'•' »"d shine With the scarlet on his coat. Now the winds are soft with rain And the twilight has a spel, "'"• "r witn olden sorrows dwell ? Mm tAt Lilac 1 IN BUD. ud, i are loud. wd. where ong, THE REDWING. I "n„^^ ^°\ ^toihftr, I hear you. bpnngmg your woodland whistle To herald the April pomp! Firet of the moving vaneuard Wh™e"fl°old''rP'^"Sy°"'°'^«. AnH I! ^''^.'^ **'"« sparkle And streams m the twilight hum. You sound the note of the chorus By meadow and woodland pond" Til), one after one up-pipi„g, ' A myriad throats respSnd I see you, Brother, I see vou S'"?f,arietunder'yourwC, Flash through the riddy mafles Leading the pageant o/spring' Tii4 Rtdr Earth has put off her raiment winf. Wintry and worn and old, For the robe of a fair young sibyl, Dancing in green and gold. I heed you. Brother. To-morrow I, too, in the great employ. Will shed my old coat of sorrow For a brand-new garment of joy. AN APRIL MORNING. ONCE more in misted April The world is growing green. Along the winding nver The plumey willows lean. Beyond the sweeping meadows The looming mountains rise. Like battlements of dreamland Against the brooding skies. In every wooded valley The buds are breaking through. As though the heart of all things No languor ever knew. The golden-wings and bluebirds Call to their heavenly choirs. The pines are blued and drifted With smoke of brushwood fires. ibyl, Where little breezel run, The golden daffodillies Are blowing in the sun. ^n April oy. ril green. lings irds Eted ires. THESOUL OF APRIL QVER the wintry threshold vv Who comes with iov to^av So frail, yet so enduring ' ^' To triumph o'er dismay : f Kl^'flj .her tears are sprinrins And quickly they are dried,^ ^' But gladness walks besid-. She comes with gusts of laughter - The music as of rills ; ^ ' With tenderness and sweetness — The wisdom of the hills. ' Her hands are strong to comfort. Her heart is quick to heed. ' Shek^r'!l;^''?""°'=*dness, She knows the voice of need. There is no living creature. However poor or small. But she will know its trouble And hasten to its call. ' II .\\ ■I Tlu Sni Oh, well they fare forever, rfAtrU. By mighty dreams possessed, Whose hearts have lain a moment On that eternal breast ! THE RAiNBIRD. . I HEAR a rainbird smgine Far off. How fine and clear His plaintive voice comes ringing With rapture to the ear ! Over the misty wood-lots, Across the first spring heat. Comes the enchanted cadence, So clear, so solemn-sweet. How often I have hearkened To that high pealing stram Across wild cedar barrens. Under the soft gray rain ! How often I have wondered. And longed in vain to know The source of that enchantment. That touch of human woe ! O brother, who first taught thee To haunt the teeming spring With that sad mortal wisdom Which only age can bring ? at LAMENT. WHEN you hear the white-throat pealing !• rom a tree-top far away. And the hills are touched with purple At the borders of the day ; When the redwing sounds his whistle At the coming on of spring, And the joyous April pipers Make the alder marshes ring; When the wild new breath of being V, hispers to the world once more. And before the shrine of beauty Every spirit —ist adore ; And a tender deepened mood Shows the eyes of the beloved Like hepaticas in the wood; Ah, remember, when to nothing Save to love your heart gives Teed, And spring takes you toiler bosom,— ao It was with Golden Weed ! t ■' ;nt. THRENODY FOR A POET. NOT in the ancient abbey, _ Nor in the city ground, Not m the lonely mountains, Nor in the blue profound, Lay him to rest when his time is come And the smiling mortal lips are dumb ; '3 Thrmody But here in the decent quiet Ma Pet. u„jg^ ,^g whispering pines, Where the dogwood breaks in blossom And the peaceful sunlight shines, Where wild birds sing and ferns unfold, When spring comes back in her green and gold And when t1\at mortal likeness Has been dissolved by fire, Say not above the ashes, " Here ends a man's desire." For every year when the bluebirds sing, He shall be part of the lyric spring. Then dreamful-hearted lovers Shall hear in wind and rain The cadence of his music, The rhythm of his refrain. For he was a blade of the April sod That bowed and blew with the whisper of God UNDER THE APRIL MOON. OH, well the world is dreaming Under the April moon. Her soul in love with beauty. Her senses all a-swoon ! Pure hangs the silver crescent Above the twilight wood, And pure the si'—^r music Wakes from th. marshy flood. 14 ifold, :en and gold. sing, ip«r of God. A shadow m the moonlieht """^ A murmur in a dream? SPRING NIGHT. Y\l\Z°fT^ star-sown night, To hear the glad earth sing. I hear the brook in tne wood Murmuring, as it goes, nnf T*^ °.^ ">« ''^PPy journey Only the wise heart knows. ^ And tJf*°^"'"'" the hill, n??- K '''f ^^t" watery treble Of his brother, silvery shrill! And then I wander away T^f^'if ^ ""u* ";'«'">' forest of Sleeo To follow the fairy music ^' i o the shore of an endless deep IN EARLY MAY. r\ MY dear, the world to^av |rti„T^;^f,-,->--- Things that never can be said. jSj^"^ Starry dogwood is in flower, Miff. Gleaming tlirougli tlie mystic woods. It is beauty's perfect hour In the wild spring solitudes. Now the orchards in full blow Shed their petals white as snow. All the air is honey-sweet With the lilacs white and red. Where the blossoming branches meet In an arbor overlead. And the laden cherry trees Murmur with the hum of bees. All the earth is fairy green, And the sunlight filmy gold, Full of ecstasies unseen. Full of mysteries untold. Who would not be out-of-door. Now the spring is here once more I ' K FIREFLIES. THE fireflies across the dusk Are flashing signals through the gloom - Courageous messengers of light That dare immensities of doom. About the seeding meadow-grass, Like busy watchmen in the street, They come and go, they turn and pass, Lighting the way for Beauty's feet. i6 2' "P. 'hey float on viewless wines To twinkle high among th"trees And nval with soft elilmerin"s ' The shming of the Pleiades. The stars that wheel above the hill Are not more wonderful to see NOT the great taslts that thev filfil More needed in eternity. ^ '■'"(«'«. ■^"\^ARDEN OF DREAMS. M wk" " * garden of dreams Ffasr^r;yK'r^;''-<'»y'sdone. Calm as the lingering sun. Never a drouth comes there. Nor any frost that mars. Only the wind of love Under the early stars, — ^'l^.'i"''.g breath that moves Whispering to and fro, Of ,hi "S'*^*,"' ^"^ 'n the dusk Of the garden long ago. »7 GARDEN SHAD'-'WS. WH^N the dawn winds whisper To the standing com, And the rose of morning From the dark is born, All my shadowy garden Seems to grow aware Of a fragrant presence, Half expected there. In the golden shimmer Of the burning noon, When the biros are silent And the poppies swoon, Once more I behold her Smile and turn her face, With its infinite regard. Its immortal grace. When the twilight silvers Every nodding flower, And the new moon hallows The first evening hour, Ti it not her footfall Down the garden walks. Where the drowsy blossoms Slumber on their stalks ? In the starry quiet. When the soul is free. And a vernal message Stirs the lilac tree, Surely I have felt her Pass and brush my cheek. With the eloquence of love That does not nted to speak ! i8 iper GARDEN MAGIC. WITHIN my stone-walied garden ,.,,,. .(' >« her standing aow, UpWted in the twilight, With glory on her brow!) I love to walk at evenine And watch, when winds are low. The new moon In the tree-tops Because she loved it so ! ' Whuh" «'>*'»n<=ed I listen, A^rf lii^r?" *'"' ""'"<'» confer. And all their conversation Is redolent of her. I love the trees that guard it, Upstandmg and serene, So noble, so undaunted. Because that was her mien. I love the brook that bounds it, Because its silver voice That made the world rejoice. I love the golden jonquns. Because she used to lay. If Sou could choose a color It would be clothed as they. I love the blue-gray iris, Because her eyes were blue, bea-deep and heaven-tender In meaning and in hue. 19 (kttdn I love the imall wild rottn, '***"■ Because she used to stand Adoringly above them And bleu them with her hand. These were her boon companioni. But more than all the rest I loTc the April lilac, Because she loved it best. Soul of undyine rapture I How love's enchantment clings, With sorcery and fragrance, About familiar things I A NEW ENGLAND JUNE. ^HhSE things I rtmember •* Of New England June, Like a vivid day dream In the azure noon. While one haunting figure Strays through every scene, Like the soul of beauty Through her lost demesne. Gardens full of roses And peonies a-blow In the dewy morning. Row on stately row, Spreading their gay patterns, Crimson, pied and cream, Like some gorgeous fresco Or an Eastern dream. Nets of wavine aunH|;ht Falling through the trees; Fields of gold-white daislei Kippling in the breeze j Lazy lifting groundswells, Breaking green as jade On tl,e ffiac beaches, Where the shore birds w«de. Orchards full of blossom, Where the bob-white calls And the honeysuckle Climbs the old gray walls: Groves of silver birches, Beds of roadside fern. In the stone-fenced pasture At the river's turn. Out of every picture Still she comes to me fl^itA the morning freshness Uf the summer sea, ^ glory in her Searing, A scii-light in her eyes, As if she could not forget The spell of Paradise. Thrushes in the deep woods, With their golden themes, Fluting like the choirs At the birth of dreams. Fireflies in the meadows At the gate of Night, With tl: 'ir fairy lanterns Twlnkli.^^ soft and bright. A .VrTff Jun4, A If em England June. Ah, not in the roses, Nor the azure noon, Nor the thrushes' music, Lies the soul of June. It is something finer. More unfading far. Than the primrose evening And the silver star ; Something of the rapture My beloved had. When she made the morning Radiant and glad, — Something of her gracious Ecstasy of mien. That still haunts the twilight, Loving though unseen. When the ghostly moonlight fVtlks my garden ground, IJke a leisurely patrol On his nightly round, These things I remember Of the long ago. While the slumbrous roses Neither care nor know. ROADSIDE FLOWERS. WE are the roadside flowers. Straying from garden grounds, Lovers of idle hours. Breakers of ordered bounds. If only the earth will feed us, ;pw If only the wind be kind, f-^T::^ We blossom for those who need us. . The stragglers left behind. ' And lo, the Lord of the Garden, He makes his sun to rise, And his rain to fall like pardon On our dusty paradise. On us he has laid the duty,— The task of the wandering breed _ L^^f'^-- 'he world with leauty. Wherever the way may lead. Who shall inquire of the season. Or question the wind where it b ows? StV°T";\"d "s"^- no reason. The Lord of the Garden knows. 3s,- ■^"^^^RDEN OF SAINT ROSE. I ma IS a holy refuge, A f„ The garden of Saint Rose, A fragrant altar to that peace The world no longer knows. Below a solemn hillside, Within the folding shade Of overhanging beech and pine Its walls and walks are laid! '3 ivt' /"^ ^°°' ''"■°"Sh tlie heat of summer, Saifi Still as a sacred grove, Alu*. It has the rapt unworldly air Of mystery and love. All day before its outlook The mist-blue mountains loom. And in its trees at tranquil dusk The early stars will bloom. Down its enchanted borders Glad ranks of color stand, Like hosts of silent seraphim Awaiting love's command. Lovely in adoration They wait in patient line. Snow-white and purple and deep gold About the rose-gold shrine. And there they guard the silence. While still from her recess Through sun and shade Sa' nt Rose looks down In mellow loveliness. She seems to say, " O stranger, Behold how loving care That gives its life for beauty's sake, Makes everything more fair ! " Then praise the Lord of gardens For tree and flower and vine, And bless all gardeners who have wrought A resting place like mine I " 24 SONGS OF THE GRASS. ON THE DUNES. UERE all night on the dunes w^r-u '" 'he rocking wind we sleep. Watched by the sentry stars, ^' Lulled by the drone o£ the deep. Till hark, in the chill of the dawn A field lark wakes and cries, And over the floor of the sea We watch the round sun rise. The world is washed once more » J . °^ ?"■■?'« '"id gold, S?!'^* heart of the land is filled With desires and dreams untold. II LORD OF MORNING. Lord of morning, light of day. Sacred color-kiudling sun, We salute thee in the way, — Pilgrims robed in rose and dun. For thou art a pilgrim too. Overlord of all our band. In thy fervor we renew Quests we do not understand. At thy summons we arise, At thy touch put glory on. And with glad unanxious eyes lake the journey thou hast gone. 'S IfJ Scr'sef th* Grau. Ill THE TRAVELLER. Before the night-blue fades And the stars are quite gone, I lift my head At the noiseless tread Of the angel of dawn. I hear no word, yet my heart Is beating apace; Then in glory all still On the eastern hill I behold his face. All day through the world he goes, Making glad, setting fr.t ; Then his day's work djne, On the galleon sun He sinks in the sea. THE WEED'S COUNSEL. CAID a traveller by the way " Pausing, " IVhat hast thou to say. Flower by the dusty road. That would ease a mortaPs loadt " Traveller, hearken unto me ! I will tell thee how to see Beauties in the earth and sky Hidden from the careless eye. I will tell thee how to hear Nature's music wild and clear, — Songs of midday and of dark Such as many never mark, Lyrics o£ creation sung Ever since the world was young. 26 And thereafter thou shall know Neither weariness nor woe. Thou Shalt see the dawn unfold Artistries of rose and gold, And the sunbeams on the sea Dancing with the wind for glee The red lilies of the moors Shall be torches on the floors, Where the field-lark lifts his cry To rejoice the passer-by, In a wide world rimmed with blue Lovely as when time was new. And thereafter thou shall fare Light of foot and free from care. I will teach thee how to find Lost enchantments of the mind All about thee, never guessed By indifferent unrest. Thy distracted thought shall learn Patience from the rcadside fern And a sweet philosophy ' From the flowering locust tree While thy heart shall not disdain The consolation of the rain. Not an acre but shall give Of its strength to help thee live. With the many-wintered sun Shall thy hardy course be run. And the bright new moon shall be A lamp to thy felicity. »7 CeuHuL Hi' 'M It 11 'I Tht CoUHltl, When green-mantled spring shall come Past thy door with flute and drum, And when over wood and swamp Autumn trails her scarlet pomp. No misgiving shalt thou know. Passing glaa to rise and go. So thy days shall be unrolled Like a wondrous cloth of gold. When gray twilight with her star Makes a heaven that is not far, Touched with shadows and with dreams, Thou shalt hear the woodland streams Singing through the starry night Holy anthems of delight. So the ecstasy of earth Shall refresh thee as at birth, And thou shalt arise each mom Radiant with a soul reborn. And this wisdom of a day None shall ever take away. What the secret, what the clew The wayfarer must pursue ? Only one thing he must have Who would share these transports brave. Love within his heart must dwell Like a bubbling roadside well. For a spring to quicken thought. Else my counsel comes to naught. For without that quickening trust We are less than roadside dust. 28 This, O traveller, is my creed, — All the wisdom of the weed ! 'nen the traveller set his pad Once more on his dusty back. And trudged on for many a mile Fronting fortune with a smile. Th, CouHuL LOCKERBIE STREET. For THE Birthday op James Whitcomb Riley, October 7, igij. T OCKERBIE STREET is a litUe street, J_< Just one block long; But the days go there with a magical air. The whole year long. ' The sun in his journey across the sky Slows his car as he passes by ; The sighing wind and the grieving rain Change their tune and cease to complain: And the birds have a wonderful call that seems Like a street-cry out of the land of dreams • For there the real and the make-believe meet Time does not hurry in Lockerbie Street. Lockerbie Street is a little street, Only one block long; But the moonlight there is strange and fair All the year long, As ever it was in old romance, When fairies would sing and fauns would dance Proving this earth is subject still To a blithesome wonder-working Will, 29 ixttriit Spreading beauty over the land, nit. That every beholder may understand How glory shines round the Mercy-seat. That is the gospel of Lockerbie Street. Lockerbie Street is a little street, Only one block long, A little apart, yet near the heart Of the city's throng. If you are a stranger looking to find Respite and cheer for soul and mind, AncI have lost your way, and would inquire For a street that will lead to Heart's Desire, — To a place where the spirit is never old, And gladness and love are worth more than gold, — Ask the first boy or girl you meet ! Everyone knows where is Lockerbie Street. Lockerbie Street is a little street, Only one block long ; But never a street in all the world, In story or song. Is better beloved by old and young ; For there a poet has lived and sung. Wise as an angel, glad as a bird, Fearless and fond m every word. Many a year. And if you would know The secret of joy and the cure of woe, — How to be gentle and brave and sweet, — Ask your way to Lockerbie Street. 30 A PORTjiAIT. A. M. M. B'^ "OLD her Sitting in the sun This lovely Aprirmorn, A ^T JM '"^ "■« ■"■«»"> of 'ife As daffodils new-born I A priestess of the toiling earth Yet kindred to the spheres, ' A touch of the eternal sprine Is over all her years. No fashion frets her dignity, Untrammeled, debonair • A fold of lace about her throat I'alls from her whitening hair. A seraph visiting the earth M jght wear that fearless guise, The heartening regard of such AU-comprehending eyes. How comes she by preeminence. Desired, beloved, revered ' ""°''^ ''Y;,"g pined those heights Through ills she never feared. A spint kindly as the dew And daring as a rtame. With a distinguished, reckless wit No eighty years could tame. Qi,'"?"!^ °f,"'^ Spartan strain. She held self-rule and sway. And single-handed braved the world And bore the prize away. No task too humble for her skill Nowortliy way too long; She filled her work with ecstasy And crowned it with a song. 31 A Par- The treasures she most dearly prizid '"■"■ Were of the rarest kind — A gentle fortitude of soul And honesty of mind. To feed, to clothe, to teach, to cheer. To guard and guide and save — These were her fine accomplishments, To these her best she gave. With ringing word and instant cure She draws from far and near The gay, the witty, the forlorn, Priest, artist, beggar, seer. (Jnhesitant and sure they come. Hearing the human call. As of a mighty motherhood That understands them all. Ungrudging, v,\'^')ut grief, she lives Each charge"! \'. f; .itial hour. Holding her lottiness of aim With agelessness of power. Immortal friendship, great with years ! She shames the faltering. And heartens every struggling hope, Like hyacinths in spring ! REMEMBRANCE. HERE in lovely New England When s"mmer is come, a sea-tum Flutters a page of remembrance In the volume of long ago. 32 Soft is the wind over Grand Pr^, Stirring tlie heads of the grasses, Sweet is the breath of the orchards White with their apple-blow. There at their infinite business Of measuring time forever, Murmuring songs of the sea. The great tides come and go. Over the dikes and the uplands Wander the great cloud shadows, Strange as the passing of sorrow, Beautiful, solemn, and slow. For, spreading her old enchantment Of tender ineffable wonder. Summer is there in the Northland ! How should my heart not know ? ^ Rtmtm* !(' OFF MONOMOY. HAVE you sailed Nantucket Sound A J , .2y,^''ghtship, buoy, and bell, And lain b'.:calmed at noon On an oily summer swell ? Lazily drooped the sail. Moveless the pennant hung. Sagging over the rail Idle the main boom swung j 33 OffMimt- The sea, one mirror of shine "*"■ A single breath would destroy, Save for the far low line Of treacherous Monomoy. Yet eastward there toward Spain, What castled cities rise From the Atlantic plain, To our enchanted eyes ! Turret and spire and roof Loomin? out of the se:^ Where the prosy chart gives proof No cape nor isle can be I Can a vision shine so clear Wherein no substance dwells ? One almost harks to hear The sound of the city's bells. And yet no pealing notes Withm those belfries be, Save echoes from the throats Of ship-bells lost at sea. For none shall anchor there Save those who long of yore. When tide and wind were fair. Sailed and came back no more. And none shall climb the stairs Within those ghostly towers, Save those for whom sad prayers Went up through fateful hours. 34 O image of the world. O miraBB of the tea, Cloud-buil, and foam-impearled What .orcery fashioned thee? ' What architect of dream, What painter of desire, £°"'=«'*'ed that fairy scheme Touched with fantMtic firT? Even so our city of hope We mortal dreamers rear Upon the perilous slope Above the deep of fear; A^»t"*,''»lf-l"'<'wn the good ?1 h:"'!'^: "«'' bestows. For the feigned beatitude Ofafuturenomanlcnows. Lord of the summer sea. Whose tides are in thy hand, 'nto immensity The vision at thy command Fade, now, and leaves no sign _ No hght nor bell nor buoy!- ' Only the fain* M, •:,, "'' Ofdangerou . j_.n.,.. Of.irm^ H ;'i I 3S THE WORLD VOICE. I HEARD the summer sea Murmuring to the shore Some endless story of a wrong The whole world must deplore. I heard the mountain wind Conversing with the trees Of an old sorrow of the hills, Mysterious as the sea's. And all that haunted day It seemed that I could hear The echo of an ancient speech Ring in my listening ear. And then it came to me, That all that I had heard Was my own heart in the sea's voice And the wind's lonely word. PHI BETA KAPPA POEM. HARVARD, I914 SIR, friends, and scholars, we are here to serve A high occasion. Our New England wears All her unrivalled beauty as of old ; And June, with scent of bayberry and rose And song of orioles — as she only comes By Massachusetts Bay — is here once more, Companioning our f^te of fellowship. 36 Her savor for the gladdening^f the race. A^d'i^^n'.,^' "i" '.°"' '^^ has sent forth. And men her admiration would adopt .. <;Hn ^ ^f?''«f "n 'he dusky way. ^ ^ ' Still waitmg for the spark?rom^heaven to fall." AnTthff ^f'^i !"■" *!"« of other day,. |t:^^h^«'!;-<^cslie. fij^.:!'=^^i;?l£age. A„H T':? °^^°"' "O" strangely rare The u^S „?v'" '^'^ ^^'^^ mfde\im''too, Ps%rhe»S^i7'rra&"^' tven while his hand encourageS eager youth. 37 I' ! I PHiBibt Kappa Poem. From such enheartening who would not dare to speak — Seeing no truth can be too small to serve, And no word worthless that is born of love ? Within the noisy workshop of the world, Where still the strife is upward out of gloom, Men doubt the value of high teaching — cry, " What use is learning ? Man must have his will ! The ^lan of life alone is paramount ! Away with old traditions I We are free ! " So folly mocks at truth in Freedom's name. Pale Anarchy leads on, with furious shriek. Her envious horde of reckless malcontents And mad destroyers of the Commonwealth, While Privilege with indiflference grows corrupt, Till the Republic stands in jeopardy From following false idols and ideals. Though sane men cry for honesty once more. Order and duty and self-sacrifice. Our world and all it holds of good for us Our fathers and unselfish mothers made, With noble passion and enduring toil. Strenuous, frugal, reverent, and elate. Caring above all else to guard and save The ampler life of the intelligence And the fine honor of a scrupulous code — Ideals of manhood touched with the divine. For this they founded these great schools we serve, Harvard, Columbia, Princeton, Dartmouth, Yale, Amherst and Williams, trusting to our hands The heritage of all they held most high, Possessions of the spirit and the mind, Investments in the provinces of joy. 38 txplonng all the bounaaries of TrutTi ■^«'«- Eacompasse/by the eternal unknown sea- ' TlV]J°'f ""'^ '° °'"loo'' those lands The kingdoms of Religion, Science Art To rest'whh!^ Jk'^ "''°™ destiiy allows 10 rest withm those provinces and serve Jor wr,'„"'°?„°* '''^?'^ ^" '^^" lives! A J u"??° """' putting dull ereed asido And hold „g fond alle|iance to the blst' May dwell there and ffnd fortitude and V And secrets of its sorceries reveT g^ild^^J^^^^lJ^f^^^S"-"^-^ Mfrsfc^byniifSe-'^-e ».^';|ph^^rt& ' The magic of that universal lore, Before the great Mysteriarch summoned him It was the doctrine of the threefold We ""• The begmning of the end of aU their doubt. 39 !i PhiBita Kttppa Pmm. In that Victorian age it has become So much the fashion now to half despise, Within the shadow of Cathedral walls The); had been schooled, and heard the mellow chimes For Lenten litanies and daily prayers, With a mild, eloquent, beloved voice Exhorting to all virtue and that peace Surpassing understanding — casting there That " last enchantment of the Middle Age," The spell of Oxford and her ritual. So duteous youth was trained, until there grew Restive outreaching in men's thought to find Some certitude beyond the dusk of faith. They cried on mysticism to be gone. Mazed in the shadowy princedom of the soul. Tl ;i as old creeds fell round them into dust, They reached through science to belief in law. Made reason paramount in man, and guessed At reigning mind within the universe. Piecing the fragments of a fair design With reverent patience and courageous skill. They saw the world from chaos step by step, Under far-seeing guidance and restraint, Emerge to order and to symmetry. As logical and sure as music's own. With Spencer, Darwin, Tyndall, and the rest. Our band saw roads of knowledge open wide Through the uncharted province of the truth, As on they fared through that unfolding world. 40 \i^^T "'iy/"'"'/ no rest-house for the heart, P*-B.,a No wells sufficient for the spirit's thirst, '^'ff No shade nor glory for the senses starved. ... ^'^^■ Turning - they fled by moonlit trails to seek 1 he magic principality of Art, Where loveliness not learning, rules supreme. They stood intoxicated with felight before The poised unanxious splendor of the Greek; They mused upon the Gothic minsters gray Where mptic spirit took on mighty form, Un il their prayers to lovely churches turned — (Like a remembrance of the Middle Age stoneTr "^"^ **''''' °' ^"'"™ '^'■""^^ '° Entranced they trod a painters' paiadise. Where color wasted by the Scituate shore Between the changing marshes and the sea; They heard the golden voice of poesie l-ulhng the senses with its last caress a" J«?,"ysonian accents pure and fine; t!;„ k . m'!" '*"ir*'^ "«™ f""" Beauty's brow, Though toUing Reason went ungarlanded Then poisonous weeds of artifice sprang up. Defiling Nature at her sacred source ; And there the 3uesting World-soul could not stay. Onward must journey with the changing time. To come to this uncouth rebellious age. Where not an ancient creed nor courtesy Is underided, and each demagogue Cries some new nostrum for tlie cure of ills. 1 0-day the unreasoning iconoclast Would scoff at science and abolish art, To let untutored impulse rule the world. 41 C*'J^' Let learning perish, and the race returns J>mm! To that first anarchy from which we came, When spirit moved upon the deep and laid The primal chaos under cosmic law. And even now, in all our wilful might, The satiated being cannot bide. But to that austere country turns again. The little province of the saints of God, Where lofty peaks rise upward to the stars From the gray twilight of Gethsemane, And spirit dares to climb with wounded feet Where justice, peace, and loving kindness are. What says the fore of human power we hold Through all these striving and tumultuous days .' " Why not accept each several bloom of gooa, Without discardine good already gained,. As one might weed a garden overgrown — Save the new shoots, yet not destroy the old ? Only the fool would root up his whole patch Of fragrant flowers, to plant the newer seed." Ah, softly, brothers ! Have we not the key, Whose first fine luminous use Plotinus gave. Teaching that ecstasy must lead the man ? Three things, we see, men in this life require, (As they are needed in the universe): First of all spirit, energy, or love. The soul and mainspring of created things ; Next wisdom, knowledge, culture, discipline, To guide impetuous spirit to its goal ; And lastly strength, the sound apt instrument. Adjusted and controlled to lawful needs. 4* ShalU^flT™ i"'"''?'" "•"■; ^ °°e '"'°»e word II li ™?™™ the primacy of soul, Hold scholarship in her high guidine place And recognize tSe body's equf? right ^ ' To culture such as it has never known, In power and beauty serving soul and mind. Inheritors of this divine ideal, sV,'n ^^'^^V". ^ ''"' *' *«" »« strong. Shall know what common manhood may become Regain the gladness of the sons of morn ' 1 he radiance of immortality. AnH^iAl™'*' wanderings of the past. And all the wayward gropings of our time ThTr.^T'* ^^ '^"'i'"' """'"^""«d Vdespair, The messengers of such a hope must go: As one who hears far off before the dlwn, On some lone trail among the darkling hilU, The hermit thrushes in the paling dusTc. And at the omen lifts his ey« to see Above him, with its silent shafts of light, The sunrise kindUng aU the peaks wifli fire PAi Btia Kappa Potta. \\\ MOUNTAIN GATEWAY. T '^w?^ ? "^^ "'"'■'' ' would go one day, X When June comes back and all ti,e world once more ""•■u Is glad with summer. Deep in shade it lies A mighhr cleft between the Cosoming hi Is A cool dim gateway to the mountain!' heart. 43 t» A AftntM- tain Gait- way. On either side the wooded slopes come down, Hemlock and beech and chestnut. Here and there Through the deep forest laurel spreads and gleams, Pink-white as Daphne in her loveliness. Among the sunlit shadows I can see That still perfection from the world withdrawn, As if the wood-gods had arrested there Immortal beauty in her breathless flight. The road winds in from the broad river-lands, Luring the happy traveller turn by turn Up to the lofty mountains of the sky. And as he marches with uplifted face. Far overhead against the arching blue Gray ledges overhang from dizzy heights, Scarred By a thousand winters and untamed. ^.' And where the road runs in the valley's foot, Through the dark woods a mountain stream comes down. Singing and dancing all its youth away Among the boulders and the shallow runs, Where sunbeams pierce and mossy tree trunks hang Drenched all day long with murmuring sound and spray. There light of heart and footfree, I would go Up to my home among the lasting hills. Nearing the day's end, I would leave the road. Turn to the left and take the steeper trail That climbs among the hemlocks, and at last In my own cabin doorway sit me down, 44 Companioned in that leafy solitude A M,m„. By the wood ghosts of twilight and of peace '"'' ''""" While evening passes to absolve the day ' ""•'■ And leave the tranquil mountains to the stars. And in that sweet seclusion I should hear, Among the cool-leafed beeches in the dusk, The calm-voiced thrushes at their twilight hymn So undistrau|[ht, so rapturous, so pure, J hey well might be, in wisdom and in joy, The seraphs singing at the birth of time The unworn ritual of eternal things. THE HOMESTEAD. HERE we came when love was younc. Now that love is old. Shall we leave the floor unswept And the hearth acold? Here the hill-wind in the dusk, Wandering to and fro. Moves the moonflowers, like a ghost Of the long ago. Here from every doorway looks A remembered face. Every sill and panel wears A familiar grace. Let the windows smile again To the morning light, And the door stand open wide When the moon is bright 4S v\ if T*4 Let the breeze of twilight blow *"""*^ Through the silent hall, And the dreaming rafters hear How the thrushes call. Oh, be merciful and fond To the house that gave All its best to shelter love, Built when love was brave I Here we came when love was young. Now that love is old, Never let its day be lone, Nor its heart acold I AT SUNRISE. NOW the stars have faded In the purple chill, Lo, the sun is kindling On the eastern hill. Tree by tree the forest Takes the golden tinge, As the shafts of glory Pierce the summit's fringe. Rock by rock the ledges Take the rosy sheen, As the tide of splendor Floods the dark ravine. 46 Like a shining angel At my cabin door, Shod with hope and silence, Day is come once more. Then, as if in sorrow That you are not here, All his magic beauties Gray and disappear. AlSumrlu. , I AT TWILIGHT. NOW the fire is lighted On the chimney stone, Day goes down tb j valley, I am left alone. Now the misty purple Floods the darkened vale. And the stars come out On the twilight trail. The mountain river murmurs In his rocky bed, And the stealthy shadows Fill the house with dread. Then I hear your laughter At the open door, — Brightly bums the fire, I need tear no more. 47 i m NIGHT LYRIC. ON the world's far edges Faint and blue, Where the rocky 'edges Stand in view, Fades the rosy tender Evening light ; Then in starry splendor Comes the night. So a stormy lifetime Comes to close, Spirit's mortal strifetime Finds repose. Faith :>nd toil and vision Ci v^ned at last, allure and derision Overpast, — All the daylight splendor Far above, Calm and sure and tender Comes thy love. WEATHER OF THE SOUL. THERE is a world of being We range from pole to pole, Through seasons of the spirit And weather of the soul. 48 It has its new-bo. Aprili, With gladness in the air, Its golden Junes of rapture, Its winters of despair. And in its tranquil autumns We halt to re-enforce Our tattered scarlet pennons With valor and resource. From undiscovered regions Only the angels know, Great winds of aspiration Perpetually blow, To free the sap of impulse From torpor of distrust. And into flowers of joyance Quicken the sentient dust. From nowhere of a sudden Loom sudden clouds of fault, With thunders of oppression And lightnings of revolt. With hush of apprehension And quaking of the heart, There breedthe storms of anger. And floods of sorrow start. And there shall fall, — how gentiv ' — To make them fertile yet, The rain of absolution On acres of regret. 49 lltt S'°" 'hall hear Secrets for a poet's ear. When the moon is rising Jarce Through the wood or frfm tfl'sea Or by some lone river maTge ' Bea;t;rse?f"'tSl; ^"^ '^''^ '^^•'<"d ■j^ s seif, that grows not old. SUMMER STREAMS A "if ?>'. '""? beneath the sun J. X Shmmg tlirough the fields they run, SlPfine'" a cadence known io the seraphs round the throne. tIII"'!*'?''*"*'' "'■•awing near Through the meadow, h^ts to hear Anthems of a natural joy No disaster can destroy T!,'j!'*^'j."?"8f"""«tof8un Through the starty woods they run. silSrf """"^Sh the purple dark Songs to make a traveller hark 55 1/17^ *" "'Sht long, when winds are low, Underneath my window go The immortal happy streams, Making music through my dreams. THE GOD OF THE WOOD. HERE all the forces of the wood As one converge, To make the soul of solitude Where all things merge. The sun, the rain-wind, and the rain. The visiting moon, The hurrying cloud by peak and plain, Each with its boon. Here power attains perfection still In mighty ease. That the great earth may have her will Of joy and peace. And so through me, the mortal born Of plasmic clay. Immortal powers, kind, fierce, forlorn, And glad, have sway. Eternal passions, ardors fine, And monstrous fears. Rule and rebel, serene, malign, Or loosed in tears ; S6 loSISi'l^l-- fin- revive. THE GIFT. I SAID to Life " Hn», ™ Win, Wii .!:• ' ""^ comes it With all this wea th in stoi» Of Ijeaut;^, ov, and knowledge ' Thy cry I's still for more? *' "Count all the years of striving To make ,h 5^^^^ ks,, _ "« ?S'«telh;t^2-f'-''ioned Th^nKThir^;^,^^^^^^^ The loot of all the ages, ' The spoil of all the sea^ I 'n '■•''"* °° «"<^ of labor, No limit to thy need? Must man go towed forever In bondage to thy greed?" With tears of pride and passion She answered:.' God abC°° I only wait the asking, To spend it all for love!" 57 THE GIVERS OF LIFE. WHO called us forth out of darkness and gave us the gift of life, fie°ld of Zfe?"*' '° "" '""'''«• '""■ '*'* '° ""= ^"sprifgs^^ *"'' °' '''''^°'"' 8""ding the living '''sSipt^ow"'"''''' ^"^'""^ """"Ker or hard- "A not old. ""^'" P"»P"' ""«> "«' joy '"-» ""tide o^NrbeicV" "'"'"''"'• *'~''« " *" °"4tes'"ind't'e\"r7 "' '°"^''«' °°' "' '"- '"th'^'wa.Snrye^y'' '"'^ """ ""■ '» "" -"> '^on'er;n''d°c"ht%rs1re'^^"^ *""' '"'•' =•""• ^"tSei'/ee^desTrTsr'" ™P"'" '° *' "'" "' 58 ^c'^Z.r "" "^""^ "■•"'on Of .he ..ernai '""'"■ ^pt\-X"' ""='«'-^ '-.•„, .he ,ow aK^»t',°^ *•■'-«- out of the dust business to do ^ '° '**"°'^' having God's S^We-^slar-''' -'^-n^' ""ii^^flars-sr "hT "' ^-«^- - -nd- "ftheT"""'' '°^^'^' """"i-g our „an. m^ghloUer "°"^"'^ 6""y. -aying the '^Jn^d^Kn^dTairJ'^™"^' -'' "o-, modest sL'ct„°i/^^4:r'' "' """«■ '='"«'>* with the ''fe'f'^^;^''"- of sor^w, they were our feely^bi™" °' "-"^d 'n tne heart of 59 1 1 1 ■»1 '■] ^LM*" Haloed with love and with wonder, in gheltered " '^' ways they trod, Seers of sublime divination, keeping the truce of God* 4- Who called us from youth and dreaming, and set ambition alight, And made us fit for the contest, — men, by their tender rite i" Sweethearts above our merit, charming our strength and skill To be the pride of their loving, to be the means of their will. If we be the builders of beauty, if we be the masters of art, Theirs were the gleaming ideals, theirs the uplift of the heart. Truly they measure the lightness of trappings and ease and fame, For the teeming desire of their yeanu'ng is ever and ever the same : To crown their lovers with gladness, to clothe their sons with delight. And see the men of their making lords in the best man's right Lavish of joy and labor, broken only by wrong, These are the guardians of being, spirited, sen- tient and strong. 60 I Their. 1. the .tar^r vi.ion, their, the in.piri,i„g 7>^o.„. hern-b/hSnlf" °^ 'P'^dor, and ™ake us a „^dor„eet„"d t^, """ -''S'-S. - "-«- But the women who went »n fn.,„j .i. never counted at all ""'"' ""■" "« Versed in the soul', traditions, skilled in humanity's '"th^s^'of'a^':"' "»'"' "f-P'-e. and weep for ^ was'fn-ti^e tt> o^d™^^ ^ "^ '''-PO'- « ■' Vof p^af/e"" °' ""<"• ""'^ » ""'• "e^-rten. ■"domarn7ol"sta™^^ °' '""«'''""' '"=y'>'"» «"« Martyrs of all men's folly, over-rulers of fate. ^s'e^teTndtfe'nT ^' '°'"''' '"»= - -" "■havrfn'^e^df^"''"' "^'"-' "" -'"™ ^hal, 6i I 6. I/*i3r" ''"'?'»,]■ •'"* ^o*** unwritten, this is the creed we hold. Guarding the little and lonely, gladdening the helpless and old,— * Apart from the brunt of the battle our wondrous women shall bide, For the sake of a tranquil wisdom and the need of a spirit's guide. Come they into as iibly, or keep they another door. Our makers of life shall lighten the days as the yeaiB of yore. ' The lure of their laughter shall lead us, the lilt of their words shall sway. Though life and death should defeat us, their solace shall be our stay. Veiled in mysterious beauty, vested in magical grace, ** They have walked with angels at twilight and looked upon glory's face. Life we will give for their safety, care for their fruitful ease, Though we break at the toiling benches or go down in the smoky seas. This is the gospel appointed to govern a world of men, Till love has died, and the echoes have whis- pered the last Amen. 62 m IN ITFIK DAY OF BATTr p N the day of battle, '-^• In the night of dread. Let one hymn be lifted, i-et one prayer be said. Not for pride of conquest, J^° °'/^ngeance wrought, Kstt rugii?;' S"''/i°rf='i'H in freedom. Born of dreams and dariW Bred above dismay. *' ' .1 PEACE. T"r ?'"P'!."8 «"■> 's dark Sav,> l^^V^' ""^^d hill. Th?/ rl" *'°"'"'S sounds, The twiht world gfows stiU. And I am left to muse in grave-eyed mystery, And watch the stars come out As sandalled dusk goes by 63 I ii And now the light is gone, The drowsy murmurs cease, And through the still unknown 1 wonder whence comes peace. Then softly falls the word Of one beyond a name, " Peace only comes to him Who guards his life from shame, - " Who gives his heart to love. And holding truth for guide, Girds him with fearless strength, That freedom may abide," TREES. TN the Garden of Eden, planted by God, There were goodly trees in the springing sod, — r Trees of beauty and height and grace, To stand in splendor before His face. Apple and hickory, ash and pear, Oak and beech and the tulip rare, The trembling aspen, "le noble pine, The sweeping elm by the river line ; Trees for tlie birds to build and sing, And the lilac tree for a joy in spring; 64 Trees to turn at the frosty call r And carpet the ground folr their Lord's footfall , Trees for the cunning builder's trade j 1 ne keel and the mast of the daring sail ; He made thetn of every grain and girth For the use of man in the Garden of Earth. Then lest the soul should not lift her eves From the gift to the Giver of ParadTse? God planted a scarlet maple tree. IN OCTOBER. TVrOW come the rosy dogwoods, r J u 8°''Je'' tulip-tree. And the scarlet yellow maple. To make a day for me. The ash-trees on the ridges. The alders in the swamp, Put on their red and purple To join the autumn pomp. The woodbine hangs her crimson Along the pasture wall, And all the bannered sumacs Have heard the frosty call 6S /» OcMtr. Who then so dead to valor As not to raise a cheer. When all the woods are marching In triumph of the year? ' !f FIRESIDE VISION. ONCE I walked the world enchanted Through the scented woods of spring, Hand in hand with Love, in rapture Just to hear a bluebird sing. Now the lonely winds of autumn Moan about my gusty eaves. As I sit lieside the fire Listening to the flying leaves. As the dying embers settle And the twilight falls apace, Through the gloom 1 see a vision Full of ardor, full of grace. When the Architect of Beauty Breathed the lyric soul in man, Lo, the being that he fashioned Was of Guch a mould and plan I Bravely throogh the deepening shadows Moves that figure half divine, With its tenderness of bearing, With its dignity of line. M^! .1! ■u^'""°°'' on «lie hill. ''».!».. Mouth with traces of God'< h.!m„. In its corners lurking S THE BLUE HERON. r SEE the great blue heron f;?°"°»'.'ng down the wind, i^Ht^ gliding sail With the set of the stream. I hear the two-horse mower Clacking ^^ ,^g ^ i"?f,^"'.°f?Julyn^n, And the driver's voice As he turns his team. I see the meadow lilies Flecked with their darker tan IndtelJl'/^'-whft-e'clouds; Is a passing dream. 67 WINTER PIECE. OVER the rim of a lacquered bowl, Where a cold blue water-color stands, I see the wintry breakers roll And heave their froth up the freezing sands. Here in immunity safe and dull, Soul treads her circuit of trivial things. There soul's brother, a shining gull. Dares the rough weather on dauntless wings. THE GHOST-YARD OF THE GOLDENROD. WHEN the first silent frost has trod The ghost-yard of the goldenrod, And laid the blight of his cold hand Upon the warm autumnal land, And all things wait the subtle change That men call death, is it not strange That I — without a care or need. Who only am an idle weed — Should wait unmoved, so frail, s:j bold. The coming of the final cold ! 68 BEFORE THE SNOW. N^^u^T- '■'' ^"J' soo"' I ''now Anrf ,J •^""Pe's of "le north will blow, And the great winds will come to bring The pale wild nders of the snow. Darkening the sun with level flight. At arrowy speed, they will alight, Unnumbered as the tfesert sands To bivouac on the edge of night. Then I, within their somber ring, Shall hear a voice that seems to sin-r, Deep, deep within my tranquil heart, The valiant prophecy of spring WINTER TWILIGHT. ALONG the wintry skyline. Crowning the rocky crest, Mands the bare screen of hardwood trees Against the saffron west, — Its gray and purple network Of branching tracery Outspread upon the lucent air, Like weed within the sea. The scarlet robe of autumn Renounced and put away. The mystic Earth is fairer still,— A Puritan in gray. The spirit of the winter. How tender, how austere ' Yet all the ardor of the spring And summer's d.eam arc here. iritiitr Fear not, O timid lover, nvU^Mt. ^he touch of frost and rime ! This is the virtue that sustained The roses in their prime. The anthem of the northwind Shall hallow thy despair. The benediction of the snow Be answer to thy prayer. And now the star of evening That is the pilgrim's sign. Is lighted in the primrose dusk, — A lamp before a shrine. Peace fills the mighty minster, Tranquil and gray and old, And all the chancel of the west Is bright with paling gold. A little wind goes sifting Along the meadow floor, — Like steps of lovely penitents Who sighingly adore. Then falls the twilight curtain, And fades the eerie light. And frost and silence turn the keys In the great doors of night. CHRISTMAS EVE CHORAL. ZJALLELUJA ! ■*■* What sound is this across the dark While all the earth is sleeping f Hark ! Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja! 70 Why are thy tender eyes so bright, Maiy, Mary? * ' On the prophetic deep of night Joseph, Joseph, * I see the borders of the light. And in the day that is to be An aureoled man-child I see Great love's son, Joseph. Halltluja ! He hears net, but she hear, afar. The Minstrel Angel of the star. HalUluja! Hallelujat HalUluja! Why is thy gentle smile so deep, Mary, Mary? '^' It is the secret I must keep, JoseiJh, Joseph, — The joy that will not let me sleep, «,u S'^V °f ""^ coming days. When alf the world shJl turn to praise God's goodness, Joseph. HalUluja / Clear as the bird that brings the mom ^He hears the heavenly music borne. Halleluja! Halleluja.' Halleluja/ Why is thy radiant face so calm, Mary, Mary? ' His strength is like a royal palm, Joseph, Joseph ; His beauty like the victor's psalm, a^h"!?"" !*u "".ora'ng o'er the lands And there is healing in his hands for sorrow, Joseph. 71 A CAruh MCkrui- Halltlvja/ 5^ Tendf' as drohfall on the tarth She hears the choral of love's birth. Hallelujal Hallelujal Halleluja/ What is the meuage come to thee, Mary, Mary? I hear like wind within the tree, Joseph, Joseph, Or like a far-off mei. j His deathless voic i raclaiming peace. And bidding ruttil :; .^ wrong to cease, For love's sake, j . jeph. Halleluja / Moving as rain-wind in the spring She hears the angel chorus ring. HalUlujat Hallelujal Hallelujal Why are thy patient hands so still, Mary, Mary? I see the shadow on the hill, Joseph, Joseph, And wonder if it is God's will That courage, ser\'ice, and glad youth Shall perish in the cause of truth Forever, Joseph. Halleluja; Her heart in that celestial chime Has heard the harmony of time. Halleluja! Halleluja/ Halleluja.' 7». Wto'" " """«' ""d far. .^*ru. I see the glorv of the sur, '^*'^ Joseph, Joseph, And in its light all things that are Of h"" fi^'' ^J"" *'■»« beyond the 5wav In God's time, Joseph. "'*""y> HalUluja / To nitry heart in love U is given A It happened long of yore. Flushes the desert floor, That three Icings sat together And a spearman kept the door. Caspar, whose wealth was counted By city and caravan ; ° With kelchior, the ier r?°,^*?.'i«'e starry plan; ^^„?a'*asar, the blame ess, Who loved his fellow man. TTiere while they talked, a sudden Srang. rushing sound arose. And as with startled faces ihree figuies stood before them In imperial repose. 73 riu SiU- One in flame-gold and one in blue J5f«f *** And one in scarlet clear, ^^ With the almighty portent Of sunrise they drew near I And the kings made obeisance With hand on breast, in fear. "Arise," said they, "we bring you Goixl tidings of ^eat peace I To