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GUENDOLEN. 
 
 I.— SPELLliOUND. 
 
 This river in the gray marsh land, 
 Slugeish and dull goes slinking by, 
 
 As if the vanguard of the year 
 Had passed in silent mockery. 
 
 Spring makes no revel here to-day ; 
 
 Only the halcyon sets his wing 
 Athwart the gloom, and utters now 
 
 That cunning laugh— a haunted thing. 
 
 II.— REVERIE. 
 
 Yet here is more than Rhine or Thames 
 
 Or lotused Nile or Assabet, 
 For here remembrance is come home 
 
 A little while to cheer regret. 
 
 It is not dream I love, — for dreams 
 Bui come when time is sinking low, 
 
 Pilgrims across the sunset hills 
 
 From vales of sleep whereto they go. 
 
 It is not rhyme I love, — for art 
 May falter on the brink of day, 
 
 Anu trade with grief, and barter tears 
 For bitter bread, and die with May. 
 
 It is — The goldenwings have sent 
 
 A far recall to hither bring 
 The idle days and leisurely. 
 
 Those truant vagabonds of Spring. 
 
 Their surging call is swift and far. 
 
 And after it I toil to come 
 Where all paths end in shining mist, 
 
 Anil forest-farers hav<? their home. 
 
 III.— AN IDYLL. 
 
 Once more to yonder platform gray. 
 
 Deserted in the summer noon. 
 Thunders the inwarddjound from Rye, 
 
 And you are here and it is June. 
 
 Down to the little wooden bridge 
 Tile river path (remember) leads, 
 
 Then through the meadow of coarse brakes 
 And tangle of wild vine and weeds. 
 
 A fence ; and then a waist-deep field 
 To wade, where someone, as we pass. 
 
 Laughs at your girlish tiny fears 
 Threading that jungle of long grass. 
 
 The shore at last ; and there our birch 
 Cools her slim bow within the shade. 
 
 Step so ; your hand ; now we 're afloat ; 
 VVho does not know why June was made ! 
 
 S. ■ wii li't Hli|> tbo world for once, - 
 
 All, the long winds, — how they o"erbriin 
 The lonesome coigns of afternoon ! 
 
 Before them old desires unweave. 
 And the green orchard floors are strewn. 
 
 Behind them lulls of nameless void 
 Fall on the eddying fields of grain, 
 
 Iluddy to horvest with still frost. 
 Old dawns, and sleep, and sunny rain. 
 
 Only athw :,rt their drift bear down. 
 From undiscovered harbor dells. 
 
 The freighted royal Ixides of rest 
 
 Beyond where spring the morning wells. 
 
 VL— SEA JOURNEY. 
 
 Now. where unwinds that stream of sun, — 
 The island inoted summer-title,- - 
 
 Forth we, a-homing with the wind 
 For shelter twilights undescried ! 
 
 Half olose your eyelids : Fleet and far, 
 
 One crocus sail upon the blue. 
 We brush the skyline, homeward bound 
 
 For haunts of dream and dusk and dew. 
 
 Like molten sand of the sun's core, 
 
 Outwinds an oceflii path for us, 
 Whose goal Look there, the caverned fogs- 
 
 What dream pavilions ruinous ! 
 
 Brave heart, my spirit of the sun, 
 A little while ! and we shall come 
 
 Tlirough the rock-barriered Fundy port 
 Into the Summer's Norland home. 
 
 The bank of mist rolls up and clouds 
 The twin cliff bastions ; the surge 
 
 (Joes daily through them searching far 
 Inland with immemoi'ial dirge. 
 
 Anil there with music, to the shout 
 Of foam-devouring winds that ride. 
 
 With all the slumber in liis heart, 
 Welaastook gets him to the tide. 
 
 VII.— VINLAND. 
 
 Steer in. There lies in open shine 
 A vinland liordered from the sea 
 
 With Autumn hills, where love no more 
 Shall beggar immortality ; 
 
 So fair, the bargain-driving years 
 Loiter and gaze and iialf forget 
 
 To traffic there with lust and death 
 For the sad children of regret. 
 
 We take the inland trail with June, 
 Where go, on secret high behest, 
 The wan cloud-shadow-bearing winds. 
 
 Those weary gospellers of 'est. 
 
 ■ 
 
 « 
 
MARJORIE. 
 
 I. 
 
 rhe Inmr ofehiUI Marjorit 
 
 Hml ont irhite hnur ofUfi hrim fiilf : 
 
 How thr nlil iiKr.ie, the mrkiitii .•<»•", 
 Ilnlli him III intl. 
 
 Across the dark unlifting noon 
 
 I wandered lonely, having keed 
 Of notliing save the haunting rune 
 
 I could not read. 
 
 The world that day was bleak with grime ; 
 
 The void of heaven, unenvied, ilini 
 IJeyond the narrow marge of time 
 
 Lay sheer and grim. 
 
 Aliove the vague unknown profound, 
 
 That universe of sunless North, 
 There seemed a l<oding ; yet no sound. 
 
 No gleam, went forth. 
 
 ■So day wore down to darker day. 
 
 Thou canst not read, O my ftmd soul ! 
 Thou art a dupe to scribes who play ; 
 
 Put by the scroll ! 
 
 Then strangely through the wards of gloom 
 Tliere came that stir the sparrows know, 
 
 \Vhen April dawns put forth their bloom 
 Of gold and snow. 
 
 Across the cheerless afternoon 
 
 A belt of sun flamed forth and glowed,— 
 Made the spring weather one wind-strewn 
 
 Bright orchard road. 
 
 Through the glad fields I wandered then. 
 And caught an echoed cadence wild 
 
 Of that old rune which haunteth men,— 
 The sleep-beguiled, 
 
 The unfulfilled, the dream -distraught 
 
 And unabiding ghost of joy, — 
 That song the saints through ages wrought. 
 
 Nor storms destroy. 
 
 Before all life, beyond all death, 
 
 More keen than dawn, more still than dew, 
 Tliere came a sound of woven breath 
 
 Where the wind blew. 
 
 Deep as the wells of night, yet bland 
 As the pale Northern plane whereon 
 
 The eerie dancers, hand in hand. 
 Shift and are gone, 
 
 Was the long reach of day wherein 
 
 I loitering betook me now, 
 While many a call flew clear and thin 
 
 Kioni lH)Ui,'h ti) Ixmgh. 
 
 She learned I know not where to sing, 
 My fair girl mother, (glad tlie while 
 
 Of the blue martins chattering,) 
 Would croon, and smile. 
 
 I have forgotten rhyme and tune. 
 But not the dear untroubled way 
 
 Her face would lighten to the rune 
 At fall of day. 
 
 Once in her teens, I sometimes think, 
 She loved too well and lost too far 
 
 Some sliy dark poet o'er the brink 
 Of night and war. 
 
 A child of Norland forestry. 
 
 Where snows and June liu crge to verge, 
 He tracked and knew the tb ' ,h's cry 
 
 By thfc sea surge ; 
 
 From sunned forelands where rosea bloom 
 He watched the storm-gulls wheel,and guessed 
 
 The immemorial foredoom 
 Of calm and quest. 
 
 Belike within hir) heart she lay 
 
 With frost and sun, as Mayflowers lie 
 
 In hollow banks of pine and May, 
 Nestled and shy, — 
 
 Or stirred, as a red leaf might brush 
 
 Through silence, frore and blue and deep. 
 
 Some morning when the year's long hush 
 Is fallen asleep. 
 
 Or it wol noon beside the stream, 
 W^ith ox-bells on the road far olf. 
 
 Where the delaying dusty team 
 Drank at the trough. 
 
 And there he sung that old Norse croon 
 Of love to her, who reckoned not 
 
 Till the long dayi of many a June 
 That June forg-^t. 
 
 Or twilight heard the tasselled corn 
 Whispering idly husk to husk ; 
 
 Then whippoorwills began to mourn 
 Across the dusk ; 
 
 Earth eased her burden of old pain, 
 And every sound was far to them ; — 
 
 Earth, with her one brown bird's refrain 
 For requiem. 
 
 Anil tliere he knew how bale and bliaa 
 Divide the sunnner as twin shears, 
 
 When Marjorie with one long kiss 
 Unpent the tears ! 
 
 The rune he sang, the rune she heard. 
 
 Died on tlie air in little space, 
 The hills of echo keep no wor<l, 
 
 The w«Ils II.) trace. 
 
 
Vlllili. null Mini /Mill IlL'lllII 
 
 Tlic shore at last ; iiiiil thoro our birch 
 ( 'ool8 hor Hiiiii Ixjw within the shade. 
 
 Stop W) ; your hand ; now we 're afloat ; 
 Who doeii not know wliy June was made! 
 
 So wo lot slip tho world for once, — 
 Fade wHh tho whistle's fading scream! 
 
 And tho delaying afternoon 
 Folded the reaches of the stream. 
 
 Her reeds to sleep the river sang ; 
 
 111 cIoikIh of sable tipped with flame 
 The starlings rose; their stir of wings 
 
 Over the dusky marshes came. 
 
 IV.-HKLP:N in f<l'ARTA. 
 
 Then June took on the look she wore 
 
 When centuries ago the Isles 
 Were glad of Helen, and the sea 
 
 Moved as a dreamer wrapi)ed in smiles. 
 
 What drew her from the olive shade 
 Of that high-reared new Spartan home. 
 
 Under the azure bay's white ii(K)n 
 Slowly along the beach to roam? 
 
 What secret of the ageless wind 
 Aroused that immemorial strange 
 
 Desire above the surge, and stole 
 Through her dim pulse with subtile change? 
 
 Was it that even then, ah, me! 
 
 Her whole heart's being had put forth 
 For that blue overworld, as one 
 
 Miglit journey to the dreamland North 
 Unknown, and sighting that far bourne, 
 
 The anchored isles whereto she pressed, 
 Baflled came back, a laden thing 
 
 With over-burden of unrest? 
 
 As there, far gazing from the shore. 
 
 Straight-armed she clasped her bended knee, 
 
 Her (jueenliness was clothed upon 
 With Tyrian colours of the sea. 
 
 The old inipaspioned scorn of time 
 Thrilled in the corners of her mouth, 
 
 Her wide uncumbered brow was clear 
 And white like summer in the South. 
 
 Her tawny hair was knotted low, 
 
 Held by a shining arrow-bor. 
 As if already Troy iiad marked 
 
 Her beauty for a prize of w ar. 
 
 Of tliat fair land took no regard 
 
 Those wandering sea-gray eyes and wan, 
 
 But dreamed and dreamed far out the West, 
 As the gold afterlight drew on. 
 
 No whit they ken beyond the verge. 
 Yet shall their storied sea-glooms pale 
 
 A thousand summer-hearted years 
 Whose long desires fa<le by and fail. 
 
 She mused until her yesternight 
 Slept with Egyptian kings at ease. 
 
 And the far morrow lay becalmed 
 Among the boon Hesperides. 
 
 A wanderer's tale of some lone bird 
 Haunting its echo, scared and fleet 
 
 Through shadow-laud, her life did seem. 
 Hot on the trail of Spring's retreat. 
 
 v.— WIND FLIGHT. 
 
 But lo, I dream ! And dreams are nought,— 
 
 Yet why did June remember her. 
 When here we drifted and you heard 
 
 The long winds of the marshes stir? 
 
 Kor the «ad children of regret. 
 
 We t-ake the inland trail with June, 
 Where go, on secret high boiiost, 
 
 The wan cloud-shiulow-bcaring winds, 
 Thi»se weary gospellers of rest. 
 
 Slow-footed by the river reeds. 
 
 They bend their aged journeyings ; 
 
 Their coming urges into flight 
 My long brown birch with swallow wings. 
 
 Until, where those white spirits lead. 
 As if from their own Kid outblown. 
 
 Into the younger season, far 
 On the still weather's )>asking zone. 
 
 We voyage through mild September noons,- 
 (lod's leisure, where the great ripe sun 
 
 Burns in the crickets' heart for joy 
 Of their long idleness begun. 
 
 Until, as when there climbs and breaks 
 And throbs across the lyric year 
 
 One scarlet rapture on t!-.e hills, — 
 
 I touch your hand on the gunwale here ! 
 
 VIII. -RHYME BUILDER. 
 
 Ah, dreams are nought ! And yet were I 
 A builder of great words in rhyme. 
 
 Another vision should go forth 
 To haunt the secret ways of time. 
 
 Where all the children of desire 
 
 Who questing roam the aisles of Spring, 
 
 With all the followers of dream 
 Who walk therein at dusk and sing. 
 
 Should hear a moving as of leaves 
 
 The air's caught breath, a-tremble, thrills. 
 
 When the first oriole has brushed 
 Their tiny sleep amid the hills,— 
 
 And know the rapture of her form. 
 
 Elusive in the undergold 
 Of that new twilight overatrewn 
 
 With songs and bloom and May grown old. 
 
 They should remember all the \ nls 
 
 Of life but as a woven lireath, — 
 Not years nor pain nor aftergloom 
 
 But only love whose age is death. 
 
 They should take heed of no delight 
 
 In all the Ixjrders of desire, 
 Nor feel the cry of wild Spring birds 
 
 Flood the cool glades untamed as fire, — 
 
 Peering to trace her shadowy path 
 Through many a gloaming,— and forget 
 
 Her beauty was a tale in June, 
 In after ages of regret. 
 
 And all the lovers of old song. 
 
 Knowing a little respite then. 
 Should dream an unregardful dream 
 
 Of Helen or of (iuendolen ! 
 
 IX. -RETURN. 
 
 But now while lingers that one day 
 
 Bt.^ond the goldenwing's recall, 
 I tarry and you do not come— 
 
 Down where the river brakes are tall. 
 
 BLISS CAR MAX. 
 
 I 
 
'I'lif vuv'm (liiiictTH, liiuiil ill Imiiil, 
 Shift unci uru ({one, 
 
 \\'iu> tlie lung reach of day wherein 
 
 I loitering Iwitook inu now, 
 >Vliile many u cull (lew olear and thin 
 From bough to Ixmglu 
 
 , No word, no word of that wiUl croon 
 
 (^ume down tlic wind revealed aiid free, 
 Vet evermore tiie old dark ruiio 
 Kept haunting me. 
 
 Only 'twas changed to mild from sad, 
 Full of low calm and no more pain ; 
 Hweethearted lapture tilled the ijlad 
 
 iptiirt 
 Unknown refrain. 
 
 It was as if, while June were young 
 And dream -desires forgot their <hH)ni, 
 
 One gathered apples in among 
 The drifts of bloom. 
 
 There by the woodsido, blown and shy, 
 
 The winiHlowers and violets 
 iirake as the drenching evening sky 
 
 When one star sets. 
 
 Smiling within that elfin vale, 
 
 A child stood there, serene, alone j 
 
 Her slim brown ankles in the frail 
 White windflowers shone. 
 
 I was so glad of her dear face, 
 
 I stooped and filled my arms wii ' her ; 
 
 While the sun touched our forest p., toe 
 Fir by dark fir. 
 
 Her grave entrancing eyes laughed up 
 Under my half liewildered rune : 
 
 Fill brim to l)rim a shallow cup 
 With the sea's croon ; 
 
 Harvest the wide midwinter plane 
 Of snowdust, moonlight, and wind-sighs ; 
 
 Bar up the portals of the rain 
 \Vith low bird cries ; 
 
 Make the red wheeling sun to veer 
 A handbrendth on the woodland rim : 
 
 Then fail those gray sea- wells and clear 
 To fathom or brim. 
 
 The rune I sought and could not find 
 She rea<l with that far look of hers, 
 
 .Scrawled by the wind on leaves in blind 
 Dim characters. 
 
 How comes it, tlviiik you, the Idurred scrip 
 
 Of April ever can uncurl 
 Its tiny tracery, and slijj. 
 
 Furl after farl. 
 
 Into this bright October scroll 
 
 Marginer. with infinite desire, 
 Lettered i'l scarlet, where the soul 
 
 Of the text takes fire ? 
 
 II. 
 
 7V/I diiiighter oj Dhild Miiijorie 
 Itiith ill her veiiia, ti> ttrnt mtti run, 
 
 The ijlail imlmniliihle am, 
 Tlif .itrviHj white sini. 
 
 Yet, I remember all these years 
 
 (I was a little tiny girl) 
 How she would let me watch the spears 
 
 Of grass uncurl, 
 
 There in my hammock far from now. 
 
 With stars and buds a-swing through .Juno. 
 
 Bending above me that pure brow. 
 All olden rimf^ 
 
 I'lvidc the .suiiimur as twin alieam, 
 W!ien .Marjoric with (me long kiss 
 Uiipent the tears .' 
 
 The rune he sang, the rune she heard, 
 
 Died on the air in little space. 
 The hills of echo keep no word. 
 
 The wells no trace. 
 
 Singer and song, as driven leaves 
 Athwart the blue Autumnal morn. 
 
 Where the wan iron ocean heai-es. 
 Are blown and borne. 
 
 Yet ever I shall go iny ways. 
 Forgetting to what beat and surge 
 
 We are as gathered waifs and strays 
 On the wind's verge. 
 
 I shall be glad with frost and sun,— 
 The wind's strong valour and the sea's. 
 
 Thinking desire and doom are one 
 As (ioil decrees. 
 
 BLISS CARMAN. 
 
 Ks tlif»c verws an' jiiintcil cxcliisivfly for |irlv«tc cir- 
 circuIiitiiMi, it Is particulKrly re(|iieste<l that ymi will 
 KUHiil iixainst the upiiearaiioe nf any iiart of them in 
 the piililic |ir«H.s. |j_ Q 
 
 t'ndtriciitn, S. JJ., Canatlu, iMulier, tSH'x