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WHEN THE ASH-TREE BUDS AND THE MAPLES II. THE WORLD IS SPINNING FOR CHANGE III. THE WIND IS WILD TO-NIGHT IV. IN THE RUDDY HEART OF THE SUNSET V. SORROW IS COME LIKE A SWALLOW TO NEST VI. AND DOWN IN THE VII. VIII. TIS AUTUMN FIELDS SPRING SONG SUMMER SONG IX. AUTUMN SONG X. WINTER SONG XI. THE CANADIAN'S HOME-SONG XII. MADRIGAL XIII. WORDS AFTER MUSIC 46 47 48 49 SO SI s» S3 54 S5 S6 57 58 ^6 ^7 .8 ■9 LABOR AND THE ANGEL. THE wind plunges —then stops ; And a column of leaves in a wliirl, Like a dervish that spins — drops, With a delicate rustle, Falls into a circle that thins ; The leaves creep away one by one. Hiding in hollows and ruts ; Silence comes down on the lane: The light wheels slow from the sun, And glints where the corn stood, And strays over the plain, Touching with patches of gold, The knolls and the hollows, Crosses the lane, And slips into the wood ; Then flashes a mile away on the farm, A moment of brightness fine ; Then the gold glimmers anc. wanes, And '" < vvept by a clouding of gray, For cheek by jowl, arm in arm, The shadow 's afoot with the shine. The wind roars out from the elm. Then leaps tiger-sudden ; — the leaves Shudder up into heaps and are caught High as the branch where they hung Over the oriole's nest. i Down in the sodden field, A blind man is gathering his roots, Guided and led by a girl ; Her gold hair blows in the wind. Her garments with flutter and furl Leap like a flag in the sun ; And whenever he stoops, she stoops. And they heap the dark colored beets I i Labor and the A ngel. In the barrow, row upon row. Whew it is full to the brim, He wheels it patiently, slow, Something oppressive and grim Clothing his figure, but she Beautifully light at his side, Touches his arm with her hand. Ready to help or to guide : Power and comfort at need In the flex of her figure lurk, The fire at the heart of the deed The angel that watches o'er work. This is her visible form, Heartening the labor she loves, Keeping the breath of it warm, Warm as a nestling of doves. Humble or high or sublime, Hers no reward of degrees. Ditching as precious as rhyme, If only the spirit be true. " Effort and effort," she cries, *' This is the heart-beat of life. Up with the lark and the dew, Still with the dew and the stars. Feel it athrob in the earth." When labor is counselled by love, You may see her splendid, serene, Bending and brooding above, With the justice and power of her mien Where thought has its passionate birth. Her smile is the sweetest renown, For the stroke and the derring-do, Her crown is the starriest crown. When tears at the fountain are dry. Bares she the round of her breast, ■i 1 I Soft to the cicatrized cheek, Lulls this avatar of rest ; Strength is her arm for the weak ; Courage the wells of her eyes ; What is the power of their deeps, Only the baffled can guess ; Nothing can daunt the emprise When she sets hand to the hilt; Victory is she — not less. And oh ! in the cages and dens Where women work down to the bone, Where men never laugh but they curse, Thmk you she leaves them alone ? She the twin-sister of Love ! There, where the pressure is worst. Of this hell-palace built to the skies Upon hearts too crushed down to burst, There, she is wiser than wise, Giving no vistas sublime Of towers in the murmurous air, With gardens of pleasaunce and pride Lulhng the fleetness of time, With doves alight by the side Of a fountain that veils and drips ; She offers no tantalus-cup To the shrunken, the desperate lips ; But she calms them with lethe and love And deadens the throb and the pain, ' And evens the heart-beat wild. Whispering again and again, " Work on, work on, work on, My broken, my agonized child," With her tremulous, dew-cool lips. At the whori of the tortured ear. Till the cry is the presage of hope, The trample of succor near. Labor and the A ngel. \ K = 'i , ..^ 'PSfi^mit-k Labor and the A ngel. And for those whose desperate day Breeds night with a leaguer of fears, (Night, that on earth brings the dew, With stars at the window, and wind In the maples, and rushes of balm,) She pours from their limitless stores Her sacred, ineffable tears. When a soul too weary of life Sets to its madness an end, Then for a moment her eyes Lighten, and thunder broods dark. Heavy and strong at her heart; But for a moment, and then All her imperious wrath Breaks in a passion of tears, With the surge of her grief outpoured, She sinks on the bosom of Love, Her sister of infinite years, And is wrapped, and enclosed, and restored. So we have come with the breeze, Up to the height of the hill, Lost in the valley trees, The old blind man and the girl ; But deep in the heart is the thrill Of the image of counselling love ; The shape of the soul in the gloom, And the power of the figure above, Stand for the whole world's need : For labor is always blind. Unless as the light of the deed The angel is smiling behind. Now on the height of the hill. The wind is fallen to a breath ; But down in the valley still, 4 It stalks in the shadowy wood, And angers the river's breast ; The fields turn into the dark That plays on the round of the sphere : A star leaps sharp in the clear Line of the sky, clear and cold ; But a cloud in the warmer west Holds for a little its gold ; Like the wing of a seraph who sinks Into antres afar from the earth, Reluctant he flames on the brinks Of the circles of nebulous stars, Reluctant he turns to the rest. From the planet whose ideal is love, And then as he sweeps to the void Vivid with tremulous light, He gives it his translucent wing, An emblem of pity unfurled. Then falls to the uttermost ring. And is lost to the world. THE HARVEST. SUN on the mountain, Shade in the valley, Ripple and lightness Leaping along the world, Sun, like a gold sword Plucked from the scabbard, Striking the wheat-fields, Splendid and lusty, Close-standing, full-headed, Toppling with plenty ; Shade, like a buckler Kindly and ample, Sweeping the wheat-fields Labor and the A ngel. ' 4 \ ^' iMIi^Mi »> With his bro over us bent, From Who moves with his eyes on the earth, shadow. Whose robe of lambent green, A tissue of herb and its sheen, Tells the mother who gave him birth. The message plays through his touch, It grows with the roots of his power, Till it flames exultant in thought, As the quince-tree triumphs in flower. The fruit that is checked and marred Goes under the sod : The good lives here in the world; It persists, — it is God. THE PIPER OF ARLL. THERE was in Aril a Httle cove Where the salt wind came cool and free : A foamy beach that one would love, If he were longing for the sea. A brook hung sparkling on the hill. The hill swept far to ring the bay ; The bay was faithful, wild or still, To the heart of the ocean far away. There were three pines above the comb That, when the sun flared and went down, Grew like three warriors reaving home The plunder of a burning town. A piper lived within the grove. Tending the pasture of his sheep ; His heart was swayed with faithful love, From the springs of God's ocean clear and deep. 29 I f 1 \ \ Esssas tif(»ii^'»i ;'«.ii'> "ms i K'> ? The Piper p^xA there a ship one evening stood, ofArii. \Yj^gj.e ship had never stood before; A pennon bickered red as blood, An angel glimmered at the prore. I'? ; r I h ^' r About the coming on of dew. The sails burned rosy, and the spars Were gold, and all the tackle grew Alive with ruby-hearted stars. The piper heard an outland tongue. With music in the cadenced fall ; And when the fairy lights were hung, The sailors gathered one and all, And leaning on the gunwales dark, Crusted with shells and dashed with foam. With all the dreaming hills to hark. They sang their longing songs of home. When the sweet airs had fled away. The piper, with a gentle breath, Moulded a tranquil melody Of lonely love and longed-for death. When the fair sound began to lull, From out the fireflies and the dew, A silence held the shadowy hull. Until the eerie tune was through. Then from the dark and dreamy deck An alien song began to thrill ; It mingled With the drumming beck, And stirred the braird upon the hill. 30 Beneath the stars each sent to each A message tender, till at last The piper slept upon the beach, The sailors slumbered round the mast. The Piper of Aril. Still as a dream till nearlj- dawn ThiT ship was bosomed on the tide ; The streamlet, murmuring on and on, Bore the sweet water to her side. Then shaking out her lawny sails, Forth on the misty sea she crept ; She left the dawning of the dales, Yet in his cloak the piper slept. And when he woke he saw the ship. Limned black against the crimson sun ; Then from the disc he saw her slip, A wraith of shadow — she was gone. He threw his mantle on the beach, He went apart like one distraught. His lips were moved — his desperate speech Stormed his inviolable thought. He broke his human-throated reed. And threw it in the idle rill ; But when his passion had its mead, He found it in the eddy still. He mended well the patient fiue, Again he tried its varied stops ; The closures answered right and true, And starting out in piercing drops, 31 m^ 'r '^fA^it^^ melody began to drip ^ '' ■ That mingled with a ghostly thrill The vision-spirit of the ship, The secret of his broken will. y n \\ «■ Beneath the pines he piped and swayed, Master of passion and of power ; Ke was his soul and what he played, Immortal for a happy hour. He, singing into nature's heart, Guiiling his will by the world's will, With deep, unconscious, childlike art Had sung his soul out and was still. And then at evening came the bark That stirred his dreaming heart's desire ; It burned slow lights along the dark That died in glooms of crimson fire. 1 The sailors launched a sombre boat, And bent with music at the oars ; The rhythm throbbing every throat, And lapsing round the liquid shores, Was that true tune the piper sent, Unto the wave-worn mariners, When with the beck and ripple blent He heard that outland song of theirs. 'fj ll" Silent they rowed him, dip and drip, The oars beat out an exequy, They laid him down within the ship, They loosed a rocket to the sky. 32 It broke in many a crimson sphere That grew to gold and floated far, And left the sudden shore-line clear, With one slow-changing, drifting star. Then out they shook the magfc sails. That charmed the wind in other seas, From where the west line pearls and pales, They waited for a ruffling breeze. But in the world there was no stir, The cordage slacked with never a creak, They heard the flame begin to purr Within the lantern at the peak. They could not cry, they could not move, They felt the lure from the charmed sea ; They could not think of home or love Or any pleasant land to be. They felt the vessel dip and trim, And settle down from list to list ; They saw the sea-plain heave and swim As gently as a rising mist. And down so slowly, down and down, Rivet by rivet, plank by plank ; A little flood of ocean flown Across the deck, she sank and sank. From knee to breast the water wore, It crept and crept ; ere they were ware Gone was ;he an^el at the prore, They felt the water float their hair. 33 The Piper of Aril. i I );7 W mwm l\ The Piper i\\Qy SEW the Salt plain Spark and shine, Beneath a deepening film of brine They saw the star-flash blur and die. She sank and sank by yard and mast, Sank down the shimmering gradual dark; A little drooping pennon last Showed like the black fin of a shark. ill And down she sank till, keeled in sand. She rested safely balanced true. With all her upward gazing band. The p'/'^r and the dreaming crew. And theit, (marked of any chart, In unrecorded deeps they he, Empearled within the purple heart Of the great sea for aye and aye. Their eyes are ruby in the green Long shaft of sun that spreads and rays. And upward with a wizard sheen A fan of sea-light leaps and plays. Tendrils of or and azure creep, And globes of amber light are rolled, And in the gloaming of the deep Their eyes are starry pits of gold. And sometimes in the liquid night The hull is char.ged, a solid gem, That glows v/ith a soft stony light, The lost prince of a diadem. 34 !9SSBS9Mn 'Rw*-"-rwK. And at the keel a vine is quick, The That spreads its bines and works and weaves ^'?7„ O'er all the timbers veining thick °-^ "' A plenitude of silver leaves. AT LES fiBOULEMENTS. A GLAMOUR on the phantom shor^ Of golden pallid green, Gray purple in the flats before, The river streams between. From hazy hamlets, one by one, Beyond the island bars, The casements in the setting sun Flash back in violet stars. A brig is straining out for sea. To Norway or to France she goes. And all her happy flags are free, Her sails are flushed with rose. r THE WOLF. WHOO~-whoo-- The rain in the hollow The wan gray sleet will follow, The shaggy moor Will lie at the door, Heavy with mould. Dead with cold, Whoo — whoo ; — yu-lo6 — yu-lo6. 35 WtKk ^mmmi •■ii V f. : m n f ll TAe tVolf. Whoo — vvhoo — The wind in the willow, The snow heaped up for a pillow, The shell of ice, Will crush in a trice. An iron mould. To have and to hold, Whoo — whoo ; — yu-lo6 — yu-lod. Whoo — whoo — The frost in the furrow. Heat takes long to burrow, The fire on the hearth Shakes its mirth At one of God's poor, Outside the door, Whoo — whoo ; — yu-lo6 — yu-lo6. Whoo - - whoo — Weary and worry him, Gnaw him, tug him, and carry him ; Dig him a pit, Shallow and fit. In the colder cold It will hold or unfold, Whoo — whoo ; — yu-lo6 — yu-lo6. Whoo — whoo — The steam from the thatches. The casement tawny in patches ; Look not yet, You might never forget The ghost of breath, Or the leper Death, Whoo — whoo ; — yu-lo6 — yu-Io6. 36 'r n ■IL RAIN AND THE ROBIN. A ROBIN in the morning, In the morning early, Sang a song of warning, "There '11 be rain, there'll be rain." Very, very clearly From the orchard Came the gentle horning, " There '11 be rain." But the hasty farmer Cut his hay down, Did not heed the charmer From the orchard. And the mower's clatter Ceased at noontide, For with drip and spatter Down came the rain. Then the prophet robin Hidden in the crab-tree Railed upon the farmer, " I told you so, I told you so." As the rain grew stronger. And his heart grew prouder, Notes so full and slow Coming blither, louder, " I tola you so, I told you so," "I told you so." A^ THE DAME REGNANT. H ! Dame Gossip fabulous ! .You have worn the quiet smile. Till your mouth is drawn as trim As a Quaker's beaver brim ; And when rumor runs a mile, 37 llf I- ^ 'h ''Hi '11 IJi^ The Dame Regnant. You don't know the soles he wears, Never heard the rascal's name ; If the neighbors bring the shoe, Tug and tug it won't fit you ; If it does, an ! shifty Dame, Rumor's last must be the same ! Hey ! this comedy began When the earth was blithe and young, When the less fair of the fair Daughters of the world of men, Whispered in their errant hair, How their sisters of the glance, Clear and deep of star in blue, Met the eager sons of God, In the valley, in the dew. On the myrtle-scented sod : And the truants from the spheres Heard like donging of herd-bells, In the flow of harp and flute. How those others in eclipse. Withered up in jealousies, Crowning malice in the eyes. Over malice on the lips, Hissed their word of hate and lies. Ah ! these truants from the spheres Learnt the human in the note Of the goddess, and were ware How of all the torrent gold Snakes were half and half was hair. Yet the ages were as one Heap of burnt and calcined stars, Ere her popular crown was run In the mould cl human fears. Ere her sceptre had been cast, Tempered steel with foolish tears. 38 ■: t Now they view her at the last, Personed like a regnant queen, Cold as pole-ice, hard as quartz, Loathly as the livid, lean Adder of the triple tongue, Basilisk eyes that reap and glean, And a mind alert; elate. With the splendor of her wit, Springing through a smoky fate, With a gleam of hell-fire lit. And she wanders from her throne (So these cringing lieges state), While her shape still glooms it there ; And but give the wizard crone Two small juttings in the air, Spiderlike she weaves her web, From her ancient ventral store. Till the whole great house is meshed With her legends, grim and hoar. Or she starts a quiet mouse. Feeding in the native cheese, And a wolf springs from the rind. Bloated out to what you please. What she does not say she thinks ; Crafty, with a few dry winks. Drops her poison in the eye, Watching while it works and sinks ; When the eye is diamond clear, Comes she with a slimy sigh. Bred to catch the dullard ear, Opening with the formula, Stereoed to the devil's phrase In the human words, " They say ; " Then the burden of the tale Crawls in after like a snail. 39 The Dame Regmint. I V \ i 'M I ' 'M I" - 2^<^^^^ And if the dear vassal 's wild, Regnant. Whv, her countenance is blank, And her eye is dull as dulse ; But the finger dwells awhile Calming on the plunging pulse, Just for, say, a nunnery smile, Till with magic overmuch, All the story is conveyed, Through the nerves intensive played, Innuendo of the touch. Once afoot the quarry flies, From the hunter in the mind ; With a prudent, vacant smile. Dull Saint Virgin drops her eyes, Gives the word with quiet guile. Guarding with her sainted wish, For the error of the tale, The dear souls from blast and bale. And the fighter to his trull Tells his version of the yarn ; With his bull-brain all afire, Charges down the ruddy rag Of the world above his ire, Tramps the tale in slag and mire. And the comments run from " Pish," To the most convenient curse, In the beggar's damning purse. So the story rolls and grows Crescive as a cloudy head. Budding silver in the blue, From black root of thunder bred. With the lightning splitting through. Every subject stricken blind With black fearing of the Dame, 40 • ll Strained of nerve and lean of loin, Passes on the strangest talk, Like a counterfeited coin ; And the fear of her is wild, Works like acid in the blood, And the man is worse than child, Saved by innocent hardihood. How he supplicates and whines, When he knows his fame is out, And sees springing into lines All the fables, shout on shout. Thinks to run the talk to earth, Talk that carries rumor's lease ; Cloudy talk of vapor birth. Chases on the plains of peace. Or where tides of trade convulse ; Something mantled like a shape Grasps at last with pounding pulse — Mist he holds ; while mocking rings All the riot sprung anew, With the flap and clap of wings. Nay, my craven, you who fear All this cackle of the crew, Carping at your coward ear ! We who know the Dame so well, Whence she sprang and how she grew, Do not crown her deep with hell ; She is but an earthly shape Springing from the parent ape. Nothing wild with power or eld, Nothing older than the race ; And this skull-face that you dread, Is the image of your head. 41 The Datne Kegfiani. p I..; ; It \f I, I I I il'i ! TAe Here where Comedy is held RVgMftt. I^eeP ^'^ honor as the star, Spreading sparkle over sea, You may see the Dame at will, Nothing formed for dread or dree. Contemplate her and be still : She has worn that quiet smile, Till her mouth is drawn as trim As a Quaker's beaver brim : Her light eyes seem clear of guile, And her smile is half demure. Half malicious. Let her play One of her protean pranks, Show her fangs and start her prey. Now she dares the comic sprite, Laughter only comes to light ; Ripples outward like a flag Over towers inviolate, Sparkles April as a brook. Breaks where sun and shadow flit ; Laughter silver and secure, From the crystal wells of wit, Springing sanely, springing pure. Mark your Dame of many crowns, How she hardens into sphinx. When she he^rs the airy ring Of the master that she owns, How, amorphous bulk, she shrinks, How she trails and leers and winks. Just a moment of gray rags, Ere the wind has pounced and packed All her baggage and her bags Into limbo, and the dust Rises in a smoke, and wracked Drives the cloud in shreds and shags. 42 Laughter falling coolly clear, Widens air and broaches sun, Comes as healing to a fear But of self and shadow spun : Self, a lantern-candle, throws Hugeous spottings on the wall ; Dance the tragic giant Oes, Rayed from pm-points punctured snail, In the battered shadow-tin Fused of deed and circumstance : Coward in the gaping ring, Bound without and look within, Learn where fable flows and whence. Speech is but the fluid mind. Reaching outward over life. Where quick speech is dammed we find Cactus deserts sharp and dim. Dead for water, ruin lined. With a mirage on the rim Of the sundown. Let speech flow Like the air, which is the soul Of the world, from pole to pole ; Shaking in the swamp of death With the poison bred of heat. Timing with a tidal breath The deep swaying of the wheat. Not till mind is massed as near Servant of the lucid soul. Sensitive as ether clear. Joining planets pole to pole, Shall we have a dearth of this Talk that lays the lash on life. Only when the mind rings true To the deep-held undertone Heard where Nature moulds her young, 43 Dame Regnant. V : t ) jl M )y v, j|f 'I ^ H The Dame Regnant. Will the fancy fail to brew Noisome liquor for the tongue. Heighten mind and heighten life, Heighten comment above lure, Heighten laughter above strife, Bred to scourge the fancy pure. Then will come the days of men, When the mind will govern power ; When clear speech will spring again. Flower unto a lovelier flower ; When dear laughter, victor browed, From her scorning of your Dame, Will play out a lambent flame Over life to saneness vowed. Contrast to the present hour ! As a sage might leave a coast Where the cities shambles are. And the people herded flesh, Climb the uplands into wood Where the trees are vined in mesh, Where noon dreams with eyes of eve. Where the beck is flecked with gold, And tne silver violets fold, Under leafage cool and lush, Where the moss is drenched with sleep. Where the music-memoried thrush Broods m dingles dusk and deep, Upward to the brow c£ hill, Where the wind soars cool with scent. And the twilights end in stars, Where upon the glimmering plain Fire-flies with the lights are blent From the huts and haunts of men. Jewels in the crown content. 44 - ti \i t ! it J A ^1 ;;(* .1^.^ ^.. ( THE CUP. HERE is pleasure ; drink it down. Here is sorrow ; drain it dry. Tilt the goblet, don't ask why. Here is madness ; down it goes. Here 's a dagger and a kiss, Don't ask what the reason is. Drink your liquor, nc one knows ; Drink it bravely like a lord. Do not roll a coward eye, Pain and pleasure is one sword H I eking out your destiny ; Do not say, "It is not just." That word won't apply to life ; You must drink because you must ; Tilt the goblet, cease the strife. Here at last is something good. Just to warm your flagging blood. Don't take breath — At the bottom of the cup Here is death : Drink It up. THE HAPPY FATALIST. WE plough the field, And harrow the clod, And hurl the seed. Trust for trust : The germ yields, The wheat brairds, We gather the sheaf, Deed for deed : The stubble moulds, The chaff is cast, 45 il i'A ill mmmm mmmm \ ■ u ,, I! 11 '|M 1^ ')') P' Dust for dust ; Fataiut, ^ ^e man is worn, His days are bound, But his labor returns, The child learns Round for round : The god is astir, Finn and free, Weaving his plan, Swelling the tree, Bracing the man : All is for good. Sweet or acerb. Laughter or pain. Freedom or curb : Follow jrour bent. Cry life is joy, Cry life is woe, The god is content. Impartial in power, Tranquil — and lo ! Like the kernels in quern. Each in turn, Comes to his hour, Nor fast nor slow : It is well : even so. SONG. WHEN the ash-tree buds and the maples. And the osier wands are red, And the fairy sunlight dapples Dales where the leaves are spread. The pools are full of spring water, Winter is dead. 46 ^^mmm When the bloodroot blows in the tangle, And the lithe brooks run, And the violets gleam and spangle The glades in the golden sun, The showers are bright as the sunlight, April has won. When the color is free in the /grasses. And the martins whip the mere, And the Maryland-yellow-throat passes, With his whistle quick and clear, The willow is full of catkins ; May is here. Then cut a reed by the river, Ma'ce a song beneath the lime. Ana blow with your lips a-quiver, While your sweetheart carols the rhyme ; The glamour of love, the lyric of life. The springtime — the springtime. Song, JS, SONG. TO B. W. B. THE world is spinning for change, And life lias rrpid 'vings ; Oh, one needs a bt' td" heart Not to falter while 1..: sings. ;l But this is made for my Dear One When we are far apart ; That she may have wherever she goes A song of mine in her heart. 47 S r ' *i ^mm^i^m^ mmmmmmmmmmm'mmm mmn \i r, f I ! i: ;i! /i Song.X song that will move with a memory Of something she loves best ; A song that will throb at her waking, A song that will lull her to rest. A song that will serve for an anchor, Compass, and pilot, and chart; A song that will bid her remember That love is the crown of art. A song that will bid her remember The north nights cool and still. With the thrushes fluting deep, deep, Deep on the pine-wood hill, With a star at her open window. When the cuckoo wakes with a start : Oh ! can she ever forget me With a song of mine in her heart ? SONG. THE wind is wild to-night. In the dark he turns and stirs, Or he falls into dream and quiet. In the gloomy heart of the firs. He springs upon the trees, And he shakes the sleeping nest ; And every little water-pool Has a troubled breast. 48 ''^ M^ He has come from a weary land, Where the rivers of memory spring ; Their waters are bitter, are bitter, And have dampened his wing. The very flowers are musing On something they longed to be, In a land of peace and promise, In a province of the sea. The birds cry out and are silent, They are dreaming once again Of the tawny-throated hollow. And the fern in the glen. And the wind raves out like a spirit, With his hands hid in his hair, And my heart is leaping, and leaping. To follow him — where .'' Son^. SONG. IN the ruddy heart of the sunset, Fading and fading still, A planet throbs and smoulders. Over the sapphire hill. A mist steals up from the marshes. Spreading tender and bright ; A heron floats from his haunt in the reeds, Through the ruby light. 49 wm upm «■« twm {■(' ^ii. -!| ,1 1 "^ ^""i"- The elm-trees towered with shadow Seem dripping and cool with dew ; There 's a sigh in the cedar covert, But never a breeze comes through. A thrush keeps ringing and ringing- Ringing — now he is still, There 's a starry light in a window On the dark, dark hill. The home that 's far away Comes steahng back to me, With the calling of the thrushes In the bonny birch-tree. My eyes are full of tears For to-day and yesterday. For the yearning and the yearning. And the heart that 's far away. I. SONG. October 3rd, 1893. SORROW is come like a swallow to nest, Winging him up from the wind and the foam; Mine is the heart that he loves the best, He dreams of it when he dreams of home. Iiij I! Strange ! in the daylight off he flies, Swift to the south away to the sea ; But when in the west the ruby dies, With the growing stars he comes back to me. SO With the salt, cool wind in his wing, Son^. And the rush of tears that tingle and start, With a throb at the throat so he cannot sing, He nestles him into my lonely heart. And he tells me of something I cannot name, bomethmg the sea with the sea-wind sino-s That r,omehow he and love are the same'^ That they float and fly with the same swift wings. I cherish and cherish my timid guest, For oh, he has grown so dear to me That my heart would break if he left his nest And dwelt m the strange land down by the sea. SONG. "T^IS autumn and down in the fields 1 The buckwheat is browning still : Gather yourself in your cloak, The winter is over the hill. It, foam; There 's a cloud of black in the north, The aurora is smouldering behind, There are stars in the parting clouds. And a touch of frost in the wind. ne. Down in the icy dew The crickets are cheering shrill : " There is time for another sons: Though winter is over the hill.^ 51 '&> mmm mm ■:■ I I ' ;;;!; A Song. Out of the great black cloud The aurora leaps and flies, Pushing its phosphor spikes In the deeps of the violet skies. The moon is wrapped in a film, She looks wan and chill: Gather yourself in your cloak, The winter is over the hill. SPRING SONG. ING me a song of the early spring, ►Of the yellow light where the clear air cools, Of the lithe willows bourgeoning In the amber pools. Si i' i: ; i Sing me a song of the spangled dells. Where hepaticas tremble in starry groups, Of the adder-tongue swinging its golden bells As the light wind swoops. Sing me a song of the shallow lakes, Of the hollow fall of the nimble rill. Of the trolling rapture the robin wakes On the windy hill. Sing me a song of the gleaming swift, Of the vivid Maryland-yellow-tnroat, Of the vesper sparrow's silver drift From the rise remote. 52 !! t Sing me a song of the crystal cage, spring Where the tender plants in the frames are set, ^°**^- Where kneels my love Armitage, Planting the pleasant mignonette. Sing me a song of the glow afar, Of the misty air and the crocus light, Of the new moon following a silver star Through the early night. cools, SUMMER SONG. ING me a song of the summer time, >Of the sorrel red and the ruby clover, Where the garrulous bobolinks lilt and chime Over and over. Si ells Sing me a song of the strawberry-bent, Of the black-cap hiding the heap of stones, Of the milkweed drowsy with sultry scent, Where the bee drones. Sing me a song of the spring head still. Of the dewy fern in the solitude, Of the hermit-thrush and the whippoorwill. Haunting the wood. Sing me a song of the gleaming scythe. Of the scented hay and the buried wain, Of the mowers whistling bright and blithe, In the sunny rain. S3 I M M 'J '1' Summer Sing me a song of the quince and the gage, SoH^. Q£ ^j^g apricot by the orchard wall, Where bends my love Armitage, Gathering the fruit of the windfall. Sing me a song of the rustling, slow Sway of the wheat as the winds croon. Of the golden disc and the dreaming glow Of the harvest moon. AUTUMN SONG. ING me a song of the autumn clear, • With the mellow days and the ruddy eves ; Sing me a song of the ending year. With the piled-up sheaves. s Sing me a song of the apple bowers, Of the great grapes the vine-field yields, Of the ripe peaches bright as flowers, And the rich hop-fields. il Sing me a song of the fallen mast, Of the sharp odor the ;">mace sheds, Of the purple beets left last In the garden beds. I Sing me a song of the toiling bees, Of the long flight and the honey won. Of the white hives under the apple-trees, In the hazy sun. 54 -'' 1! nm ■■ Sing me a song of the thyme and the sage, Of sweet-marjoram in the garden gray, Where goes my love Armitage Pulling the summer savo.y. Sing me a song of the red deep, The long glow the sun leaves, Of the swallows taking a last sleep In the barn eaves. A ttiumn Song. es WINTER SONG. ING me a song of the dead world, (Of the great frost deep and still, Of the sword of fire the wind hurled On the iron hill. S: Sing me a song of the driving snow. Of the reeling cloud and the smoky drift, Where the sheeted wraiths like ghosts go Through the gloomy rift. Sing me a song of the ringing blade, Of the snarl and shatter the light ice makes, Of the whoop and the swing of the snow-shoe raid Through the cedar brakes. Sing me a song of the apple-loft. Of the corn and the nuts and the mounds of meal, Of the sweeping whir of the spindle soft. And the spinning-wheel. 55 mm Ml u \r I ' i^t, ^^^"'""Sing me a song of the open page, ''"^' Where the ruddy gleams of the firelight dance, Where bends my love Armitage, Reading an old romance. Sing me a song of the still nights, Of the large stars steady and high. The aurora darting its phosphor lights In the puiple sky. THE CANADIAN'S HOME-SONG. THERE is rain upon the window, Then- .. wind upon the tree ; The rain is, slowly sobbing, The wind is blowing free : It bears my weary heart To my own country. I hear the white-throat calling, Hid in the hazel ring ; Deep in the misty hollows I hear the sparrows sing ; I see the bloodroot starting. All silvered with the spring. .j' 1- 1 1 Si li; } ,1 f' * .^' i i < . I skirt the buried reed-beds, In the starry solitude; My snowshoes creak aiid whisper, I have my ready blood. I hear the lynx-cub yelling In the gaunt and shaggy wood. 56 A. ince, I hear the wolf-tongued rapid Howl in the rocky break, Beyond the pines at the portage I hear the trapper wake His En roulant ma bouU\ From the clear gloom of the lake. Oh ! take me back to the homestead, To the great rooms warm and low, Where the frost creeps on the casement, When the year comes in with snow. Give me, give me the old folk Of the dear long ago. Oh, land of the dusky balsam, And the darling maple-tree. Where the cedar buds and berries, And the pine grows strong and free ! My heart is weary and weary For my own country. Tlte Canadian^ i Home' Song. MADRIGAL. NOW-DROPS now begin in snows, I Crocuses to flush. Gentle scilla buds and blows Nurtured in the slush ; All about, like tinkling bells, Falls the ice a-melting ; Ring, dilly dilly, — Sing, dilly dilly, — Spring is here, And the wolf is out of his den, O ; With a ren, O ; and a fen, O ; And a den, den, den, O ; Sing, dilly dilly. 11 W- i if; j u PI If " 'I ii Ma^riira-i. Slender moon is floating down Through a vat of wine, Belis knoll from the drowsy town, Din — din — dine ; All about the red robins Whistle in the dusk ; Ring, dilly dilly, — Sing, dilly dilly, — Spring is here. And the lambs are safe in their pen, O ; With a ren, O ; and a fen, O ; And a den, den, den, O ; Sing, dilly dilly. Comrade virgins clad in green Quaff the nimble air ; Each one, if her mate 's unseen, Is the fairest fair; Bran is hidden \r\ the hedge Breathing on his reeds ; Ring, dilly dilly, — Sing, dilly dilly, — Spring is here, And maidens beware of the men, O ; With a ren, O ; and a fen, O ; And a den, den, den, O ; Sing, dilly dilly. »'> WORDS AFTER MUSIC. WHERE go all the melodies fair, They that flow and fade in air ? Was their beauty all foredone ? (Ah, no — no !) Pulse and cadence truth did tell. Vowed to music's magic spell. Passionate and ineffable. S8 ■Ml Where do all the roses go, They that die before the snow ? Was their beauty all forsworn ? (Ah, no — no !) Flush and odor vowed aright, When they promised rare delight, Perennial and exquisite. IVords after Music. Fragile flowers and melodies Claim a dual paradise, Beauty is not feof to death ; (Ah, no — no!) Beauty lives in essence free, In the inner heart we see Beauty's immortality. 59 rF'x I a li':.^ V ' •'. )'i h [■ n V} in «n mm THIS BOOK IS PRINTED DURING OCTOBER 1898 BY THE UNIVERSITY PRESS CAM- BRIDGE MASSACHUSETTS