<^.

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

WJ..

'^ M. "''

%°

1.0

I.I

i^ III 2.8

1 5

1.8

1.25 1.4

1.6

6" —

►

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

33 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.V. 14580

(716) 873-4503

l^<

CiHM/ICMH

Microfiche

Series.

CIHM/ICIVIH
Collection de
microfiches.

Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques

1980

Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques

The Institute has attempted to obtain the best
original copy available for filming. Features of this
copy which may be bibliographically unique,
which may alter any of the images in the
reproduction, or which may significantly change
the usual method of filming, are checked below.

L'Institut a microfilmd le meilleur exemplaire
qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details
de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-6tre uniques du
point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier
une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une
modification dans la m^thode normale de filmage
sont indiqu^s ci-dessous.

□ Coloured covers/
Couverture de couleur

□ Covers damaged/
Couverture endommag6e

□ Covers restored and/or laminated/
Couverture restaur<ie et/ou pelliculde

Cover title missing/

Le titre do couverture manque

□ Coloured pages/
Pages de couleur

Pages damaged/
Pages endommagdes

□ Pages restored and/or laminated/
Pages restaur6es et/ou pellicul6es

□ Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/
Pages d6color6es, tachet^es ou piqudes

□ Coloured maps/
Cartes gdographiques en couleur

□ Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/
Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire)

I I Pages detached/

Pages d^tachdes

Showthrough/
Transparence

D
D

Coloured plates and/or illustrations/
Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur

Bound with other material/
Relid avec d'autres documents

Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion
along interior margin/

La reliure serree peut causer de I'ombre ou de la
distortion le long de la marge intdrieure

Blank leaves added during restoration may
appear within the text. Whenever possible, these
have been omitted from filming/
II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajout^es
lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte,
mais, lorsque cela dtait possible, ces pages n'ont
pas 6t6 film^es.

I I Quality of print varies/

Quality in6gale de ('impression'

Includes supplementary material/
Comprend du materiel supplementaire

Only edition available/
Seule Edition disponible

Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata
slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to
ensure the best possible image/
Les pages totalement ou partiellement
obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure,
etc., ont 6t6 filmdes d nouveau de fapon d
obtenir la meilleure image possible.

Additional comments:/
Commentaires suppldmentaires;

□ This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/
Ce document est filmd au taux de reduction indiqud ci-dessous.

10X 14X 18X 22X

26X

30X

12X

16X

20X

24X

28X

32X

The copy filmed here has been reproduced thank&
to the generosity of:

Victoria University Library Toronto

L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grdce d la
gdn^rosit^ de:

Victoria University Library Toronto

The images appearing here are the best quality
possible considering the condition and legibility
of the original copy and in keeping with the
filming contract specifications.

Les images suivantes ont 6t6 reproduites avec le
plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et
de la nettetd de l'exemplaire filmd, et en
conformity avec les conditions du contrat de
filmage.

Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed
beginning with the front cover and ending on
the last page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All
other original copies are filmed beginning on the
first page with a printed or illustrated impres-
sion, and ending on the last page with a printed
or illustrated impression.

Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en
papier est imprim^e sont film^s en commengant
par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la
demidre page qui comporte une empre»nte
d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second
plat, selon le cas. Tous ies autres exemplaires
originaux sont film^s en commengant par la
premidre page qui comporte une empreinte
d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par
la dernidre page qui comporte une telle
empreinte.

The last recorded frame on each microfiche
shall contain the symbol — ^> (meaning "CON-
TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"),
whichever applies.

Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la
dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le
cas: le symbole -^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le
symbole V signifie "FIN".

Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at
different reduction ratios. Those too large to be
entirely included in one exposure are filmed
beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to
right and top to bottom, as many frames as
required. The following diagrams illustrate the
method:

Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre
film6s d des taux de reduction diffdrents.
Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre
reproduit en un seul cliche, il est filmd d partir
de Tangle sup^rieur gauche, de gauche d droite,
et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre
d'images n^cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants
illustrent la m6thode.

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.

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'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