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That all who s^rV^? , Jfi*^: ^ l">« we know, S^;rr£rzv1r:e^«„^^^^^^^^^^^ TheKtuntan^a'^;i,.^rt.-^"^" THE PRINCESS AND THE DANE The Princess Edith stood in her high tower And watched with a white face the battle rage. Silent all day had stood her white webbed loom, Untouched the strinp of her wild Northern harp. The women wept and wailed around her feet, But she had stood since dawn had brought the cry: King Athelvar is landing on our coast With all his followers, armed to the teeth." Without the castle and within its walls, The sharp, quick call, "To arms!" had been obeyed. Rattle of shields and clang of many swords Had mingled with the outcry of the maids ; But all the words the Princess Edith spoke. As she ascended to her tower, had been, "Alas, my father, it has come at last." A fierce old warrior had her father been, Taking bv foul means when the fair had failed. King of a Viking horde who dwelt upon The stormy highlands of the Northern seas — A stormy fragment of the human race. Who had grown strong by hardship, and had breathed The keen, invigorating Northern air, Till bone and muscle answered to the blood That sen* its mighty pulses through the heart: Untaught, save in its wild desire to dare. And so they blindly reached out eager hands After what seemed to them the highest good. The Princess' father had a year before Made war oSe sive on a distant tribe. The leader of the tribe, a gray old man, With one son only, and no other child, 31 Wa. taken by surprise, but bravely met The lawlea Vikmg and his armed host. vvas absent on a voyage over seas. He was a lover of the sea, and longed ro find out other places in the world. But l.Vh ^""'1' "™"« ""<• """y oared. But with a central mast and rei ,y sail, I o bear them onward when the winds blew fair H.S father was a fierce old Dane who knew No higher joy than conquest over foes; He Jt,*? k"'IT"''°°'' '^'''^""^ "Pon th« prince, Hmfl K u' /f*"".*^ ■""''' "° -""re wars P,rhfn -.r." '^T ™"" ■"= "A"- lands. Perhaps w.th less of storm and war than his I have heard rumors of an island large, And vemed with peaceful rivers, lyini South Round wh,ch;he waters of the' Jorfd jo^nseen Prince Athelvar had voyaged for a year, Explored the coast of Britain, and in wake And when at last he turned his galley's prow Acr<»s the widening seas to find his home H,s m nd was filled with larger meanings caught From the new hfe in Britain and in Rome And hr''- ^' fT"* ^"* ''"'"• «> f"" w«re heart ,^bram of plans for work among his -ribe mat man has done." he said wifhin him« f, Man yet may dp," and so he bravely planned To lead his people to a higher life No tidings of the war had reached his ears Nor any rumor that the king was Jead; And when they neared the old familiar coast, 33 His heart filled with deep longings to behold Again the grey-haired sire, and to recount To him the wonders of the wi<'-r world, — He strained his eyes to see an- ;ig the crowd Who gathered on the shore to welcome him, His father's form, which held for him alone The blood of kindred on the stormy earth. But when the chieftains met him with a look Of sorrow mingled with their joy, and hailed Him "King," his face blanched, and he scarce could find A voice, but soon he cried, , , . . „„ "Not king, nay, greet . le not as kmg. Where is the king, my father? Let us go to him ; lead, and I follow. But speak not on the way. It is but meet The son should greet the father first of all. I miss so many faces, but no doubt They wait my coming with the king." ,,_, One said, They are with the king"; "It is well; pass on." And sothe crowd moved slowly toward the hall. An ominous silence brooding over all. The hall was reached, the chief swung wide the door, And said, "Enter the king." A feast was spread ; The burnished armour glistened on the wall ; The floor was spread with many skins of beasts; Upon the broad stone hearth a bright fire blazed, And in its place, covered with leopard skin. The old man's seat stood vacant by the fire. The prince sank down upon the vacant chair, While the chief told the story of the loss. as rf left "o'^S^r'^'K""]' *« "" Who dosed thf/torvoi .k''''"' "'' ^'e^. So Athelvar. who ha^ iV" T'?"'?'" «"fc- Set out .««ntafe't:'.':r ''■■■"'^• H«d «ep a*d fCu^ '"u '^' ''»"'• He would havrsLed h?"u''''':i8 '■"« '^' ^'^'! And asked, '' ''" '"'"•'' >>« »he drew back 7hek;„;?,!,',.;',"^^^arter^^ rmn,trfl^^r«:ir "ri" --"^X Tall Dane, pnW AthT '"' ^'"- ^°^ ""» And fiehts'irall fh 'tYi "or^*-"'' That he will show no merev for fV ■' '"" vorS;rc^^r^'--^^^-cr' A fine s^rrglea^K"'" '"^^ «/ '*'* «'•" Sheturned ful on Ae trZ *\''""'y '^at Go to prince Athelvar, and say, 'The dead When te ' ^'t •" "" »°"»?" "k'd AthelvMr. •^ tell rh, '^•''' "" ™««'lt= 'h« he bore ' Krbtsii";'; ^^'-^ '"« '"^ «'-'' t-^ »houid ^. . . "A miserable Tr. ?.*'",'?"° has no brother," he spake To himself, as he came from the r.W, Where^he plunged and swam many""times 'round E'tI?T'?7??"'" '""■"» of battle Fit"„';f:!r1!:;„7"'""^'^-'"™"t» The Viking chief had stolen in his youth A ofnllh^''^.'* n*!'.' "^ >"■' ^hild from out ADanish galley which he chanced to meet m.le cru.smg carelessly about the coa™ Her nurse was with her, so he brought he^ too Hoping to make the fair Dane more content Mos fal'tHulin"'' "''■''' ""'"«'' »h»had «r^;d Most taitKfully her mistress all her life Had never loved the Viking or his ways When death's chill touched the moTL, she had The smaU hands of her baby on good Ilda'. 25 Cheek, and took her promise that ihe never Would desert her child, but cherish her, and watch For chance, provided by the gods, to take Her daughter back to be a Dan>;. The Viking let her have her way about The child. They lived within the rooms built at The top of the high tower, only approached By a long winding stair above the noise And din of the wild horde. There stood the loom Where Ilda taught the princess how to weave The wonderful white texture which she said Would some day make a royal garment for A coming prince. Ilda had taught her all Her Danish songs, and told her all the sweet Old stories of the land she loved. How fair Helene had given up her life to bring Unto the islands that she loved the flower Of peace; how Valdershield the brave had never Wed a wife, but cherished thoughts of her, Until the gods had called him home. The fire blazed high within the Viking's hall, When Edith entered it to meet the king. Who, with an easy grace of mien and voice. Advanced and said, "Regard me not, I pray. As one who would molest your liberty Or life ; my latest triumph fills me with Deep shame. If you sought vengeance I should feel It just." The princess stood before him with The beauty of the woman reaching through The sweet, pearl, child-look on her earnest face. 36 Her worJ« came dear and low at the replied: 1 have no brother; I cannot avenge «,? %''* ''*"''' """■ »'»"W I if I could. Why kill to many more? The blood of half I he tribe* would not bring; back the life of one. Xhere it to me tome thing most dreadful in A ttill, dead face, from which all thought of hope Ur love, or power, hat forever fled. My nurse, who is a Dane, hat told me tales About the tribes who dwell far down the flood. Which our wi d mountain torrents rush to greet; iwu" J '"'.Kodt have shown them more than us, Who dwell perhaps too far from sun-rite for 1 he gods to care. I know what conquest means. Uniy mytelf now ttandt between my people And thit fighting world; my father mourned much That I wa« a girl." "D • T I.- L J^' """8 '~"'"* •°"' and said: Princett, I think the gods did well to make You what you are. It will be joy to me In any way to serve you and repair The evils I have done. I did not know Your father had no sons, or, by the royal Gods, I would have waited long e'er I had Manned a galley, or unsheathed a sword." In a low voice Edith replied, V . "My father did You very grievous wrong; when he rame back Ivrom that aggressive war and told how they Had slain an old man while his son was far Away, my heart rose in a tempest of Regret, and many nights I lay awake. Thinking of his return. I pictured first His sorrow, and I knew the laws of warfare Would demand revenge." »7 "Could I have drcamnl, Oprinceu," laid the kinr. in tone* tubdued, "That any thought of me, or of my torrow Had gone out from luch a temple of fair woman- hood, I ihould have rather lunken all my fleet Than come to make diuutrous war, U there Are any of your father't chiefs whom you Can truit to lead and reconttruct, it will Be well; if not, I will myself see that Your wiahea are fulfilled, and will remain Until you have no further need of me." "There is not one," Edith replied, "whom I Could name as leader of the tribe. Oland, Who took my message to the king, would fain Become the chief, but him I have great cause To dread. He has no hold upon the tribe. Nor any claim, save empty love of rule." So Athelvar took command within the hall, Winning the remnant of the tribe by gracious ways. While Edith and her women dwelt nith'i The tower, until all signs of battle Had quite disappeared, the wounded cared for. And the wives and children of the fallen Warriors found by order of the princess Shelter in the hall. Oland had made one Wild attempt to overthrow the princess' Rule and hold the tribe, ut had been taken Prisoner by the king. The people clamored For his life, but Edith said, "Shed no more blood But banish him forever over seas." He took his sentence from the king, Glad of his life, but muttering vengeance 38 p«P on her who ipared hii life, but ihruk in Loathing from hit love. The people loon grew wond'rou.ly content Under the graciou. rule of Athelvar. With Uda, came at evening to the hall, Upon the happy faces gathered there, uJirj'? '""u"' '"'"]"' '"^^ »'"■'" 0' ">«ny beast. S„m«' " ?""''"• ""* "PO" 'he floor. ^ An^ fI?!1 V"!' V* •P'"'' l^'o™ the king And Edith, by the happy maids, who did Not mourn, because the rule of the hard old 'ightmg king was o er. H..,j .k ■ . *-*"* ''V the k'ns; had Heard the princess' harp, and begged to have it Brought within the hall, where ohen Edith touched And'ih''"*/l'"'"''' .".•"■'' her »weet voice rordear And echoed long within the heart of Athelva" WonM Jt"*."!^'" f^i^^ '*'"='' that he Would jell tales of his wanderin,. over distant And of the sights in Britain and in Rome. I have so often longed," she said, "to see The edges of the world, where the great seas Swirl 'round and underneath the stars. I h^ve Wondered^much if their light can be Shed. They float and sparkle on the outer seas lo light the way for galleys of the gods. Did you learn aught in any other lands From any of the people of the gods? And why It ,s they pour upon the world So much of hate and war? If they would but 39 Give us love instead ! How good it • •re to Rest on a strong love outside of all !" Then Athelvar came near to her and said, "In that great Island, Britain, there are men Who are priests only; never do aught else But minister the rites of service to Their God. I listened and learned this, they have But one, not many gods like us, and worship As supreme the very God of gods, who Alone hath power to measure good and evil To the world. I thought much of that. I too Have longed to know more of the meaning of All life; why men should live fighting each other On this stormy earth, why the great waters Rise and fall ; and what the voice of their deep Undertone, resounding like the smothered Whispers from the shores where dwell the happy gods. And why the stars shine as they do, some large, Some less ; they do not shine by chance ; you note That certain brilliant ones come at set times, And keep thefr places in the great blue arch ; Most likely they are leaders of the lesser stars. And all move peacefully, shedding their light Alike upon the living and the dead. They are alive, those stars, I feel quite sure, And move by order of some power unknown. When our seven galleys found their way to Rome, It was not for war or pillage, but I thought Surely the secrets of all knowledge will Be open here. I wore the Roman dress, And mingled freely with the moving crowd. No tongue can tell the wonders of that world; I felt like one drifted from some bleak shore, To which the light of only lesser stars 30 Had come. And yet I did not find what most 1 longed to know; ;!.,r «„, to understand Ihe meaning of ryseli anj o'l.r men, VVhy life should .ireik i.ke w,-,. es upon the shore, tddy and swirl m,! disappeai beneath Forgotten sands. O.'.c;. u' night when our Ships Heated on the spreading seas, I longed to know more of the power that spoke in And wave, but I found none in Rome who cared for this. I saw one die at Rome. Around him Ihere were scores of men and women on Kaised seats, each one above the other. He Stood on a place where all could see. Then were Let loose upon him fierce wild beasts. The Roman Is more brutal than the Dane. We kill in War; but they make sport of death. It seems enouj,h When the shield rattles and the armour rings, 10 take away what no man can restore- iv" '? make holiday, and watch while one Man falls before brute force is what the Dane Ui Norseman cannot do. c J. . , , This man whom I ??n "'« "»d been a follower of One Called Christ. I never can forget the face Ut him: the pallor of it was extreme; But such a look I never saw on dying Face before. No fear, but radiant with a light Unspeakable. He stretched forth both his hands And prayed to One invisible, and cried My Father, I am ready; take me to ' Thyself, and shew this people that Thou art The very God.' 31 He made no struggle with The beasts, but let them tear, until in one Long, joyful cry, his voice died out. That was The wonderfulest thing I saw at Rome. I asked about this Christ. He had been put To cruel death, hated alike by Roman And by Jew ; yet even Pilate said when he Condemned Him, that there was 'no fault in Him.' His life had been spent only in good deeds. He taught a clean, pure life of helpfulness By man to man, and claimed to be the Son Of the One God, come to redeem the people Of the earth. I had the name 'Christ' made on White wax at Rome, and brought it for my father. I would I could learn more of Him. He said That death was not the end, that those who loved And followed Him should have a life with Him Unending in a better world than this. How good were that, another, better life. That we may seek and hope for in this world; The outside of our life is not the best. I would have given all the Caesar's rule To have found my father waiting by his fire. The Romans have a brave outside, but wrong, Murder, and pillage fester in their courts. They serve themselves, those Romans. Some day Rome Will fall. If such a thing could be that this Christ taught, that the One God did love the wirld Enough to come and live His life among The poor, shewing at once the brotherhood Of the Divine and human, and at death Take those who listened to His teachings to An everlasting life of highest good. Why, we could go on joyfully in hope; 32 For Thor and Odin live so far away ; This is the first God who hath touched the world." The princess with a rapt and earnest face Sat silent while he spoke, and then replied, That were indeed a God, supreme in love. And for that Christ a man might dare to die." Then Athelvar claimed a song upon the harp; Then sang the maiden to responsive chords: SONG OF THE PRINCESS "The joy in the heart of the rose, The song in the heart of the rain. The glory of gladness that flows O'er the billows of tall, ripened grain ; "The strength in the heart of the hills. The imprisoned lament of the sea, The low, happy laugh of the rills, All answer to something in me. "The eyes of the gods in the stars, The thoughts of my heart understand ; Our wild streams that sweep to the sea Bear to it the heart of the land. "If a God who is kinder than Thor And stronger than Odin doth reign, Then love must encircle the world. And banish all memories of pain." When Ilda and the princess were alone That night within the chamber of the tower, The face of Edith was aglow with thought; Her dark eyes gleamed like Venus when she shines At sunset through the softened vesper air. 33 She said: "Ilda, you have not told me half The truth about the Danes; this king is grander Than my dreams of any of the gods." BuL While she spoke the nurse cried, "Hark, surely I closed the door below the tower stair ?" She dropped the comb from out her up-raised hand, Lewmg the gold floss of htr lady's hair To fall around her like a bridal veil. Wrapped in a dream of sweet delight, the princess Did not note the sudden pallor on her Nurse's face, only half noted that she Left the room, closing the door that fastened With a spring upon the inner side. The king had lingered by the dying fire. His heart too full of gracious thoughts for speech. The revelation of that sweet, rare face, And wonderful white hand that seemed To hold all womanhood within its clasp. Thrilled through him as no thoughts had thrilled before. "I seem to understand at last," he said, "The true uplifting of all life. Oh, my Heart's rose, how did you bloom so graciously In this rough clime?" But suddenly the door Flew open, and the nurse cried out, r\ V /-.I "Come quick, «J Kmg, Oland is on the tower stair." He waited not for any weapon, but Rushed on to find the ruffian had reached Almost the top. The door was open — Edith otood without; all trace of color had gone From her face. At sound of hurrying feet Oland turned round upon the s'air to meet The king, and cried : 34 . "Now if you love jour life, You pirate prince, come not another step. I swear if you come nearer that my sword Shall drain your blood, and then within my lady's Room she will be glad to be my wife to-night." The princess stretched her hand toward the king. And said: "Come not within the compass of A coward's stab, brave prince. Fear not for me. My tower window onens to the floor. Rather than this brute should lay one hand on me I cast myself down to the depths below. Death were a small dread in the place of him." The king said, with a set, stern face, . _, ^ "Go in And shut your door, but open not your window Till I call." Edith obeyed, and as she Closed the door Oland called to the king, "Now ask your last gift of the gods before My sword shall pierce your heart, but e'er you die Know this, the girl within should long ago Have been my wife." With his eyes blazing like The light of Mars, King Athelvar leaped The stairs between and cried, "Die, dog of a liar That you are!" and hurled him down the long stone Tower stair. Ilda had given quick alarm Without. A crowd of soldiers hurried to The stair just as the Viking's bod<' limbled At their feet. The king called to nis men, "Take Him at once, and give him a dog's burial. Tramp firm the earth upon him, and then come To me." 3S 'W» sped quickly to unclose 1 he door, which shewed them Edith with one hand Upon the unloosed fastenings of the window L)oor, her face as pallid as a marble urn; But when she saw King Athelvar stand without. She stretched out both her hands to him, and with A great cry sank upon the floor. When her Eyes opened and she saw the king's face bent Above her, her first words were: "Truly your God IS good": and then, "Take me forever From this room!" ~, , . W" ''"'■e her in his arms down /he long stair, and laid her on a couch by The hall fire. Her frightened maidens gathered round And wept, and shuddered when a sound was heard Outside. King Athelvar did not sleep that night. But caused a watch of soldiers to be kept, Until the morning light brought peace to all. The Princess Edith never looked again Upon the tower stair where Oland died. The entrance to it was closed up with stone. And the door covered till it seemed a wall A gentler life now filled the rooms below And one strong presence wakened up for her Undreamed of harmonies, mystical and sweet. Ilda had cut the white web from the loom, And set the maids to broidering with gold Over rare patterns that the princess drew; And so they made a garment fitting for A fang to wear upon his wedding day. The day was fair when Athelvar the Dane Wed Edith, daughter of his fallen foe. The tribes so long at war were under him 36 m United first in one harmonious band. The princess to her people said, "Let all Who love me follow him with loyalty; So shall he lead us on to higher good ; And when the winter shall have come and gone, And happy spring shall have unloosed again The kindly forces of the earth, we will All bid adieu to this wild land of storms, And seek a home where the soft south wind blows Among the tall trees crowning hills above The peaceful waters of a wondrous Bay Upon the coast of Britain, which the Danes Have long ago explored, and where the king Shall lead us when the days grow long again ; For, O my people, who can tell if we Are each one faithful to the very best That lies within us, and that we can learn About this One true God who loves the world, But that, in some blessed future time, Norman and Dane may mingle with the Briton, And become a mighty nation serving the One God." T TO A. M. F. A WW, GRAOUATB Girlhood with its crown of faith, we give Thee our best thoughts to-day. this grand June day, This new day, never used before; but when in coming years its memory unfolds May It be fragrant with the thoughts that now Bear summer mcense for thy June of life. lo-day thy feet have touched a turning step Upon the golden stair. ~, , , , ., To-day you leave 1 he shades where Virgil sang his stories of X he tossing seas, and where the tall Uosed doors of the wide past have opened to Ihy cdl, and where thou hast heard across dead Unforgotten songs. w i_ • .„ .^'"' *« may life be sweet , • We know It will be true, and may the head fJt the coiled serpent that so loves to spoil Be newly wounded should he near thy path 38 TWO LITTLE SUNBONNETS Two little »unbonnet8, side by side, Hang on the wall at eventide; While two little faces, rosy and fair, Shaded by blonde and bonnie brown hair Have slipped from beneath them while angek keep Watch over slumbers restful and sweet. Oh I baby faces, so fiesh and fair. With the pearl on the skin and the gold in the hair. And eyes as dear as angels' are As they pierce the blue for a missing star, And baby hearts with love untold. And soft white arms that our hearts enfold. How fair is life while the years are new, When home is the world and the world is true 39 THE OLD PARLIAMENT TO THE COM- ING WOMEN In ancient times we tied our queues And took our seats in parliament, And (ought as brave for honor bright As knights of old in tournament. Our country's wrongs, the people's weal, Were then the reasons why we met And drew our diamond-hilted steel. But times have changed, we do forget. i Ar.(.'. shrink and shrivel like false men in i^larish light of salaries, But ladies, ladies, come not down ; Oh, keep you to the galleries I IV Don't soil your trailing robes with dust; Let us fight on for salaries; We pray you charming ladies bright, Oh! keep you to the galleries. ri: Sometimes in heat of party strife We look up to the galleries. And in the light of truth and love Almost forget our salaries. 40 VI ■And ttrike out for a helpless truth That stand* unclothed and shelterless, And careless of opposing lines We stretch our hands to help and bless. vu And when the battle waged and won A white hand from the galleries Had touched our own and made us know A dearer thing than salaries. vni Oh, ladies, ladies, keep your heights Above all hope of salaries ■And leave us something dear and sweet Above us in life's gaUeries. SHE IS MINE Let the wild wind beat the rain Up againat my window pane. She is mine I Night and ttorm have lott their power To disturb this charmed hour. She is mine. Life has blossomed into joy, Holding nothing for alloy. She is mine! And I charge you Demon Death Touch her not with your cold breath. She is mine I Turn the lamp; the firelight falls Softly on the pictured walls. She is mine! A PICTURE Her fomi held the grace of a linden tree; Her face wai u fair ai a woman'i may be. The froited lace from her bared white arm Fell back to the shoulder. Oh I the charm Of the warm-hufd flesh tints; the woman's hands Orasped each the other— while unseen bands Seemed to mock at the pressure brought to bear On the forehead crowned with its plaits of hair. The bride of a month I What does she there, Entenng the lists with Black Despair? "If one could but try and then go back," Are the words she said; then keeps her track Up and down the long bright room, While the sunlight faints in the face of gloom. So young! Yet the long black hill of life Held more of dread than a hungry knife. Will she bind her strong soul to endure, And make no sign? Of this be sure That the hungry who call and the hurt who cry "Behold my painl" to the passer-by, Have never sounded the depths that are known To the voiceless woman who stands alone. 43 ON THE HILLS DEDICATION To the beloved Comrades of the Hearth Who all have passed the last turn In the Upward Way, I, who alone remain, dedicate ihese fragments of a wandering mind PREFACE A song of youth from one who, loving sones Listened to music till at length she tried ^' An octave for herself. I. E. M. Wil n BOOK FIRST VALORIA Begged Heaven's blessing on their quiet fanes Valona's young hand touched the first note ' In the great song of h'fe. It was where the Wye S feflfT 'h-d winds through the SLt Tt w!!.! • - J V ''•?' '"^"''" e°'"8 where It woulo and charming men to follow its ir hs SV""" ""'' "?•" 8a« upon its face As Its br ght eyes were dreaming in the shade Or note ,ts ruffled breast agleam^with gold '' Or hsten when the time of shadows fell To the^ kw chaunt of rhymes, thrown '-om its Heart to the ears of men, till drawing near Callertn^r- ^:rf' '°\'' *« ^o-" "-at fir^t Cal ed to It in the distant happy hills. Cabled in weird harmony of winds that caught Ihe great unwritten music of the sea; And as they met with voiceless marriage vow, It buries all its treasures in his heart. A little way withdrawn from the white dot Of cottagra, a sudden hill reared high Its wooded form above a quaint old house, Whose gables rose amid a wilderness Uf clinging vine, and cast their quivering Image m the Wye; and here amid the litht On flower and wave. Valoria's young eyts Could only catch reflection of the sun And flowers. u J i^^" i'^*^" w^s » scholar who Had spent his early life in distant lands, 47 Who with a lover's earnest eye had scanned All loveliness, and with a lover's heart Had worshipped it, as part of the eternal Essence that distils on all created things. There had come floating back to his old home Vague rumors, in the first years of his stay Abroad, telling the old, old story that Is ever new, how the sweet grapes of youth Cast in the press of life yielded such wine — Such rare red wine, such sparkling wine — Held in God's sunlight gave back diamond stars That threw their light within two hearts and round One path of youth and love. The rumor died And was forgotten. In the after yeirs The man came back alone; but all could see The glow had faded from the morning hills For him, and that the heart's impulses burned As low as morning beacon fires on which No hand has laid a faggot since last night. Disliking crowds, but genial with the few Married in time a quiet English wife. And settled down to quiet English ways. He had seen enough of cities and would live In this old house in Wales, which told weird tales Of battles fierce where throbbing hearts, long sine; Grown quiet at the Christ's first look, had burned Out life to light the way of truth, where weak Hands struggled with a giant wrong. If the wa.e Of love's first passion had rolled in upon The harbour of his 'leart, fragrant, agleam With rosy light, and bearing on its breast Fair flower and fruitage of far sunny lands; Had broken on the beach and borne away Not only all it brought but all the long Locked treasures of 3 strong man's heart; he made 48 i tl No sign by which the world might know. There are borne essences whose subtile rare nerfume Forever lingers round all they have touched; And there lay within a corner of an old Old desk a little box of ivory And pearl that held a girl's glove and a broken ring, A bit of Venice carved upon its lid; Its spring had been untouched since distant years. Companioned by her father, led by him In bcience and in Art, Valeria Smoothly sailed from childhood's sheltered bay out on The rose-flushed sea of dawning womanhood, (Mot dreammg of the wrecks that, maybe, lay Beneath Its waves) her gleaming white sails set lo catch the springing breeze, the dainty helm Held by the strong hand of her father's love. What sunny shores to her young eyes were stretched aqrond the bright intenseness of the morning haze! What fragrances of foreign flowers, what sweet Ljow echoings of far-off song floated Up to her from the underworld! Beauty Had touched her with its subtile wand, leaving an air of grace thrown carelessly about Her ways as though she moved to music quite Unheard by other ears. Her mind was trained By study of all useful things; she was Enriched with all accomplishments; thought out Her own thoughts for herself; and breathing always An atmosphere of rare intelligence Within her father's house (he loved to draw Around him men who followed Art and Science For the love of it), her woman's thought had Learned to climb and twine round mighty truths. But She had never loved; she had read of love, 49 And her heart told her what it was, yet one Knew by the clear unshadowed light within Her eyes, that never wandered or grew dim With far-off thought, the rosy god had troubled Not her maiden dreams. "Valoria," said Her father (he had given her that name, Though all the relatives pronounced it quite A needless alien in the family list) One night as they were resting after a day Spent on Welsh hills — "Valoria, you are So fond of heights that if I thought you would not Attempt the Matterhorn without a guide. Or try a ride upon an avalanche, I would take you to the Alps." With a quick burst Of pleasure she sprang up, and kneeling at His side declared that if he would but go She would deny herself the Matterhorn And ride on nothing wilder than a mule, But added quickly when she saw his eyes Were dim and that he did not smile as he Was wont at her gay badinage, "We are Happy here, and if it makes you sad to go We will stay at home, for nothing would bring joy To me that trailed along an ugly pain For you." "Nay, little one," he said, taking Her in his arms, "the life has died from out The pain of life for me. It crept along Through all the years that should have been my best. And fed upon the dainties and the bloom Till they were done, and then I think it starved, For after long, slow yeara it ceased to move. My thoughts flew backward to the time I first 50 Left England's shores, carrying with me strength And youth, and more, my daughter, more, carried Away what I could not bring back. There, rest Your head upon my breast, but do not talk," He added, as he drew her close within His arms. The evening draped its shadows all About the room, while the tired wind without Could only stir the ivy vines across The open door, and in the drooping elm A lonely night bird sang a lonely song. "What is it, father?" asked Valeria, Starting from half sleep. „ "I did not speak, my Daughter." ^ , "Yes, you said 'Valoria' *wice." Did I? I must have dreamed. But it is late, And time you were in bed; good night, my darling. Go and dream you are in Switzerland." There was a wide high balcony that overlooked The Wye, thick overhung with vine and elm. Where this rare girl, whose heart was all attune To Nature's varied moods, was wont to take Her last look in the summer nights upon A world of full-orbed silences. To-night She sought it with a heart aglow with joy, Joy, that she might behold that great grand vision Set in mount and cloud, where God's voice never dies Away among the hills. Should she indeed See Switzerland, the land where centered all Things strong and beautiful, the land whose voice Sounded the note of freedom with such power The tyrant heard God's warrant in the call And dropped his hold on that that was not his, The land where Nature sang her grandest bass In the strong tremor of the avalanche And mountain floods, that pour their booming thunders Through the echoing days ? Should she kneel at The foot of God's great hills and worship Him Through His great works? And might she climb and bathe Her unr'ad forehead in the mist of cloud That hung around the Wengern Alp, and see The falling glaciers of Jungfrau, the cone Of Silberhorn, and gaze with dazzled eyes Up where the Matterhorn held yet the longed- For secrets of the ice world hid away,* Amid the deep white silence of its awful heights? GENEVA It is not that Mount Blanc looks down from its Eternal calm of ice and snow upon The life of flower and plash of wave and warmth Of human life below ; nor yet because The war.d of beauty draws its magic ring In shadow of the Jura over earth And wave and air. It is not for this alone Men gather to try heart of liberty. Geneva! rich in beauty, richer far In memo.'es of noble deeds that shall Not shrink and perish at the touch of death. Where heroes' names are household words, and where Memories of martyrs are passed down from sire * At the time this poem was written the Matterhorn had never been ascended. To ion, like family jewels guarded with Jealous care. Here Chillon frowns upon the waves Below, and while the heart aches at the thought Of its sad prisoner in his dungeon rounds. It yet rejoices that at last the prey Was taken from the iron hand of wrong. Here Voltaire hissed his venomed genius o'er A world he left more beggared in its faith In God and love than when he found it. From Its heart have poured great arteries whose strong Pulsations burst all tyranny and made Its people free; and to its heart have drawn The poet, the philosopher, worker. And dreamer of all lands and climes. Valoria was shown each spot that claimed Historic interest or poetic fame From Chillon's dungeon towers to Rousseau's isle. Her father formed a friendship with An Englishman, who every year shook from His soul the blinding dust of crowds, and gave It holiday among the hills, that it Might drink the glowing cup God's hand holds out To us from places near his throne. Wendal Knew all the secrets of the hills, knew where They hid their silver chimes, and kept within The strongholds of their giant hearts a place For man; and with his strong arm plying his Swift oar they floated many a night upon The moonlit waters of the gleaming lake. Wendal and Mr. Mooer talked much of Art And politics, history and poetry. With subtile essences of things that come And go, touching our spirits with bewildering thoughts Of things that we should know but have forgot ; And often, shipping oars, would seem to reach 53 The farthest stretch of human thought, and sit Silent and reverent before the veil Of the unknown, that mystic veil which floats In some rare hours so near we almost feel Its noiseless f:)Ids chilling our cheek, and then Receding in the mist so high and far We may not fathom where its limit lies. Valoria listened, with her face aglow With thought; if Wendal noticed it he made No sign. It was plain he never would bear arms Or win a badge as carpet knight. He left Before them, promising to meet among The Alps where he must hasten on to join A party for a great ascent. Above The vale of Lauterbrunn they met again. And during a month's rambles on the hills Their feet seemed naturally to tread within One path. It was the day but one they were To leave; Wendal came early to their rooms. And said the day was glorious, and that The slightest sound made music in the air ; Even though it started in a discord, touched By the echoes hidden in the hills, it Ended in a chime ; and begged leave to act As Miss Mooer's guide that day among the hills. He was familiar with the paths for miles Around, and pledged his reputation as A guide to bring her back in safety. Her Father gave consent but added, "I must tell You if there is any chance for doubtful climbing She will do it. She was born an outlaw. All my early scorn for bars, and longing For the . (attainable I find in her, 54 \A '1 Therefore be sure you keep always on guard. one led me a bewildering chaae the day Before you came. I had to send a careful Footed guide up a steep height to bring her down." And you, Miss Mooer," he added, kissing her S?" >■ 1 *" '"'* '"' """ *'"" '"'"'' y°^ master." Yes, laughed Valeria with a pretty gesture Of mock reverence, "I will, most truly. When I find him." A 1. , , ."^' "*""' ^'"» Mooer," said Wendal As they left the mn, "that you are to be Closely watched." "It is all because I do Not think that helplessness need always be A positive necessity in women, c"-^V' °" *'"^ inspiring heights where one Sniffs freedom in the winds, it seems absurd Always to be tucked under some one's arm. Just like a neat brown paper parcel labeled 'Touch with care'; the simple truth in all things seems The best. But round and underlying all Do you not think," she added with a glow Of earnestness upon her fair young face, "That here in God's high places where He speaks So plainly to us through His works, that we Throw down instinctively the shams that have Been built around our souls, and speak ,- d act Just true?" "Yes," answered Wendal, gazing down On her with attenfive face, "here I first Learned to know how grand a thing is simple truth, And of what simple elements our best Things are composed. It takes half a life to show Us this in spite of Nature's gentle lessons. And even then it is only learned by those 55 Whose iouli CM be attuned to God *nd Nature. In the first flush of wealth, men, in building homes, Order on varnish, heavy bands of gold. Deep piles of vivid color, have their table spread With such profuseness that the dishes crowd. But after years of culture man discerns Profuseness is bad taste, prefers the real wood That shows fine grain, orders his colors with Less lavish hand, and his table ceases to groan Beneath its load. So, reaching down through all The half-dead, senseless, outside rims of life. We find the soul of things is sweet and true; Just the sweet 'You and I' of life make up The jewels in the rosary of years Whose unforgotten glimmer throws the last Sweet earth light in the heart of age. A lamp Trimmed by a woman's hand, the opal homelig^t Curtained from the world, the mother with her Baby's cheek against her own, its smile within Her heart, all that makes perfect joy to man, Is sweet and true. Heart of the rose and heart Of life, just simple, sweet and true." "Hark!" said Valoria, pointing with her hand, "that bird Above seems echoing your refrain; its clear Notes cleave the air, like, 'sweet and true,' and I Believe that from an Alpine song-bird to A human soul feeling around for God To hold it and to make it pure, your words Are true. The bird sings what God gave it while The tired soul just touches Him And rests." "Thank God," said Wendal, "that He has Given us such conditions on which to build Our lives, and that the empty glitter of External show declares itself the tinsel 56 Sham it is within the pretence of the pure And true. How often we tee loult so stamped With the clear mark of God that they limply mutt Be what they are! How little the mere critic Thinks of this, or knows that a great soul that comet To ut with the pressure of God's fingers still Upon it, leaving it, maybe, less smooth Than other souls, can only give us truth; Maybe in fragments, yet often in unbroken Crystals." . "Yes, that it why so many souls Great in simplicity and truth with power To shew their great thoughts to the world mine out From the wide dark the same bright thoughts, al- though The miners may be centuries apart And neither knew the other mined. Then one Must smile to see the yard stick man who does The cntic in some tart review, point out With his small measure of himself, and give The genuine critic howl, 'a plagiarist,' As though those voices from the infinite. So vaguely understood, those glittering Fragments of great truths that drop at night From far-off starry depths of blue, or float On sunset tides from shores of white and gold Come not to all deep souls, from grand Sophocles Down to the Englishman who wears to-day So gracefully his Laureate crown." • "One can but think," replied Valeria, "How strange that in their grand march down the world God's men and women walk so much alone." r^^i" ^'^ ^" friend, "the priest walks in advance. We find in every good that men work out *Tennyaon. 57 The individual is the power. The crowd You note develops quick the brute in man. A hot word here and there and a great mass Of men will glow at furnace heat, men who Have mothers and hear children's prayers, will tear And bellow like wild beasts of prey. What we Call culture never can drive from its old Abode the brute in man. It chains him down, Encircles him with walls, turns the strong lock, And there he lies with nose on earth, but let Some scent of blood, some sound from unforgotten Jungle where his mates are free, some muttered echo Of ungoverned thought, but penetrate his cage; At once the body answers to the power Within, the sense of brute power rises to its height. And then — God help the man who thinks he holds The key. No human power can tame the brute. But once there walked the lanes of Nazareth A Christ who dwelt among the simple folk. And blessed their homes, talked with tiied women, dropping words Of balm on their bruised lives, held a child's hand While waiting for a mending net, or on The sea slept in the boat until His friends The fishermen had need of Him; and so Healed and made sacred all their simple lives. He walked alone; in that I often think The world's reformers shadow the Great Type. The rush and glitter of the world went on, And Roman scorn and Jewish hate could find Naught but the scourge, the crown of thorns, the And yet His power has overthrown the kingdom set Upon the seven imperial hills of Rome, Scatt>:red the Jewish tribes, and holds the keys Of life and death to all the waiting world. It is His power alone can drive the brute Forever from the heart of man. We give to men and women who after Him Save the world, the tempest of our scorn. We hack 1 heir hves, forgetting that there never was A strong, pure, loving worker in the world Whose own heart did not hold unmeasured spaces i'or the sympathy of his kind. We let The hungry spaces echo to the call; Meanwhile with steadfast face and eyes, That see God's own grand meaning in the work He does, the world's reformers go their way alone; Bu. when by aid of light which they have left 1 he world has slowly studied up to them, We lay our books open at the page Where they left off, and clap our hands, and hang *resh garland- over long-forgotten graves, And search the marble quarries of the world 1 o ftnd a background for heir names." ~, ^ „ , , . Meanwhile 1 hey talked so earnestly they had climbed height Un height, now pausing to admire deep vales Below, and then to lift their eyes to where White mountain tops pierced the metaUic blue. Wendal would sometimes take her hand to aid Her m ascent or steady her upon A height, and once he stood across a path She wished to climb, and said so quietly Between his other talk, "You will not go Here, Miss Mooer." They found their dinner waiting In a cave, an old resort of Wendal's, but Unknown to Valeria until her guide Had ushered her within its cool, gray depths. To find a feast prepared, as Wendal said, 59 By mountain gods. When they had dined with gay Pretence of being, now Swiss peasants, then Pilgrims to some far-oil sacred shrine, they Still pursued their wanderings up and down^ And came at length upon a curious spot Where a bluf{ mountain ended suddenly Beside a lake, with just a footpath left Upon the shore. Valeria sprang forward And exclaimed, "Now this is old Thermopylae, And I am a Greek and will not let you pass." Catching her merry mood, he stood grasping With martial digni^ his alpine stock As though it were a sword, and said, "Fair Greek, Although you stand alone as Greeks before The world, although before your gleaming blades Xerxes' Immortals have been put to flight. And Persia learns the name of Marathon, Yet know that I will win the pass or die, And I will win, with weapons never yet Turned back, all the unconquered province that May lie beyond. For what to me is all That lies this side of thee, fair Greek?" he added in A softer tone with glowing eye. "And know That I too am a Greek, and I will win." Then springing nimble-footed as a roe Upon the rock that leveled with her head. He stooped and with his strong arms pinioned both Of hers, and lifting her as though she were A child, he placed her on the rock, then took The pass, and called, "Surrender." "Surrender?" Cried Valoria with well-affected scorn, "Surrender, to a Greek, and from a Greek! It is plain you have traveled far and have 60 Learned foreign words, for though I have journeyed to The farthest stretch of our blue isles, that word I never heard. I never heard an infant Lisp it or an old man mutter it in His querulous talk, in all the land of Greece! 1 he soft seductive airs that come up from The lawless sea to seek acquaintance with Our mountain winds, ne'er whisper that." TT . , , , , , But still «e held her hands and kept his steady eyes Upon her face whose color came and went And called again, "Surrender." .... ,„ "But I am a Greek." And so am L Ti. , . . ^^''"= *^y had played Thermopyli, I he clouds had hastily gathered into force. And now came rushing down the mountain sides With dark and threatening front, and thunder burst VVith vivid lightning and large drops of rain. Valoria felt the shadow and looked up. The very hills, to her unused to Alpine *f ™s, seemed to be tumbling on their heads. Wendal had often met before such bursts Of Nature's passion in his Alpine tours. And watched with zest their play and fury bursts; But this frail girl whom he had led so far Upon the hills, how should he shelter her From Nature's rage? He caught her quickly from 1 he rock, as a blue sheet of lightning veiled Her form and said, "Valoria" (it was The first time he had called her name), "I wish This jeweled day had held no harm for you." Then there arose a new strength in her heart; A strong faith in a human presence held 6i ^li Her firm — the faith that means so much in women. She said with quiet trustfulness, "Do as You would if you were out alone." "Not quite," He answered, smiling, "for probably I would Not seek shelter, but that you must have; we Are two good English miles from the hotel. But there is a chalet not far down will give You a Swiss welcome." The way was short but rough, And the rain poured in floods ; but only once She paused and hid her face when the blue lightning Flashed so near it veiled her eyes, and once he snatched Her close wilhin his arms as a tall tree In lightning blaie flew past them in its fiery course ; And when he let her loose there was no color On his lip or cheek. They found a friendly shelter At the chalet, with a woman and two girls, Who brought Valoria their holiday Attire while they should dry her dripping robes, And unloosened the braids of her dark hair to Dry about her waist, and piled high the Are Upon the ample hearth. But stiU the rain Poured down, and the thick clouds hung o'er them like A pall, but brought no gloom; the fire that blazed Upon the hearth gave not more warmth and light Than that which glowed within her heart. A soft Light rose within her eyes, and her sweet face Broke often into smiles without apparent cause. And a voice sounding through ear and heart spoke sweet And low her name. She never knew before What new earth music might lie in a name. hhe lay upon a couch to rest and seemed To feel his strong clasp as he held her when The pine tree fell so near, and heard again Two words, two quick impulsive words he uttered As he held her there, and as she thought of them A rosy smile that started from her lips Spread in glad ripples o'er her glowing face. She smiled, but could not sleep, although she had Been left alone and bid to sleep. Let rfiose Seek sleep within whose heart the ashes are long dead And undisturbed save by the cold white finger Of a buried past that will not rest but rises From its grave, and rakes among the ashes for Some hope of flame, and those who wander in The valleys always, who never tread the hills Or kiss the clouds. Bring sleep to those whose lives Are withered bud, and fruit, and flower, but seek Not now to still the song bird in thy heart, Valoria. Wait until coming years shall press So heavily on thy waking hours, thou shalt Thank God for the dumb oblivion of sleep. But the rain ceased, the clouds rolled down, and soon The clear ringing mountain air, leagued with new Sunshine, ruled again. They lingered yet beside The chalet fire to wait the lessening of The streams that ran in the fierce pride Of sudden power after the rain ; and though Wendal had often sat quiet amid The general talk of the hotel, yet now He flashed keen sparkling words, that scattered gems Of thought as clear and well defined as crystals Fresh from the bosom of a mine, across 63 I, The hearth stone of the chalet fire. The girl Sat listening with her earnest face half shaded By the ripples of loosened hair, leaned on Her hand — a hand that poise itself which way It would was certain of an attitude Of grace. What is it whispers to the soul, When all serene she sits and gazes at The glowing face of some new joy that comes To meet her on her way with hand outstretched And sweet intelligence within its eyes, "It is the last"? Whatever sadly missioned Thing it is, it must have whispered then, for Valoria's bright face seemed to enter Suddenly a shadow as they rose to go. She looked back lingeringly at the fire Dying upon the 'hearth and said, "I wish That one could always live upon the hills And eat in mountain caves and rest in chalets." Then, blushing, added, "I mean that all our friends And all " "I understand," Wendal broke in !>o quietly that her blushes faded. "You wish That life were on the hills, breathing ever Their elastic air above all discords, all Low aims and petty motives, above all The doubtful essences that mix in cities Or where men are thickest, that make the mock Elixir of our lives; far above all Artificial wants to take at morning each Day's gifts fresh from God's hand and give them back To him to keep for us at night, while His Dear hand shall touch our eyelids with the seal Of sleep." "Do you not think," she asked, "that we Are nearer God upon the hills?" He earnestly, and nearer each other; thank Him for that." Below them, hidden here and there By juttmg peab, and shrined in loveliness, On'h-n"r/»^""l "'•"'' °/ Lauterbrunn, while hills On hills lifted their cold proud heads above Great clouds that hung upon their bosoms. Sudden Ueep abysses gave a fierce grand welcome 1 o the torrents' fall. Within the old brown Chalet, perched upon the mountain's .ides, were (jathered aU the elements that make life's Joy or woe. Grandeur held tight the dainty Hand of beauty in his clasp, and often Touched her gentle forehead with a kiss. Ihe twilight shades were gathering when thev reached ' The irn; the spell of silence was upon Iheir lips; their souls were bathing in that full lide calm that words disturb but never may txpress; but as they paused a moment on 1 he balcony, Valoria said with her Good night, "I thank you, Mr. Wendal, for Ihis day; I never shall forget it, it Has been so full of pleasure," and added With a tinge of sadness in her voice, lifting Her eyes to a high peak where they had stood X hat day, that was now silvered by the moon, Ihis is our last day on the hills; you know We leave to-morrow." A„j I. ij- • L ^^ *°°^ ^" ungloved hand. And holding it between both his own, said, ijod grant us many days upon the hills." He added, as a moonbeam crossed her face Promise that you will rest at once when you Go m. Then he held her hand a moment to 65 Hi» lip« and said, "Good night, Valoria." "Good night," she said again. Wendal stood for A moment gazing at the spot that 'he . Had quitted. Meanwhile a picture of Valoria Mooer as she had stood upon the balcony, Her mantle falling from her arm while white Moonbeams held the light against her sweetest Face and played among the shadows of her hair, Was photographed by love's strong light on heart And brain. Let him mark it well! for in long Coming years, in deserts and in crowds, he Will strive with wearily closed lids to bring It back again. . Then he went in to Join A club friend, Howeth, just up a week from Pans, Who met him with, "So, Wendal, you are en- slaved?" . , , "Enslaved, enslaved 1 No, that is not the word; I have stepped where Dante stood with her he loved Upon the highest arc within the circle of The zodiac, and I could stand with her Safe gathered in my arms, and see all earth Removed without a sigh, sure that where she Was, heaven was not far off." "The Lady Mooer Is in the circle too, I fancy, by The deepening color on her cheek and quick Averted eye whene'er I spoke of you. I tried the effect of your name on her more Than once. Jove! it was chr.rming, ]ust coming as I have, from faces where all feeling, like a child Unruly, is locked upstairs or in dark Basement, and not once allowed to come within The drawing room or glance out the front windows Till thi- quests are gone. But I tell you, sir, 66 You have somethinK there to curb and tame. I saw Her flash defiance from her eyes and lips, The other day, at some old piece of humbug Long crusted by the sacred touch of time. Before a patient group of worshippers Of conservatisms. Her father sat among Them too." "The scorn of petty plot or trick I cannot admire too much in her whole nature; Its perfect truthfulness shines like a diamond Hilt that holds a gleaming blade, and if she needs A steady rein, you know I always wanted Things to tame. When I was a boy I have Often worked for weeb and never once gave up To make a timid wild hare come and eat From out my hand ; and as I older grew, A horse that would throw any other rider Was my pride. Excessive tameness in most Any thing is wearisome to me. I know It is much prized in women; but I have Not cared for your tame, neat cream-candy type Of girls ; they make most excellent vinegar After a slight exposure to the sun ; You do not catch one of them looking back With clear, intelligent, responsive eyes Like some grand creature, when she feels the rein. They neither can command or mould life as Full toned women who understand the whole Run of the gamut, and know all the stops — When to draw them out and when to close. They Understand the beauty of deep bass or Finest semibreve, and by their perfect Knowledge draw the stops and teach the keys to Make most self-forgetful harmony out Of life's roughest passages, while the sweet Girl, who thrums forever on her c and e 67 And knows no more; when c and e are out Of tune, must sit quite dumb and helpleis. Here is a woman strong in character, Hartiionious in thought, amenable To reason and to right, and if at times She wants a firm hand on the silken rein. What grander realm could the very king of men Aspire to make his own?" "He who does it Surely is a king," replied his friend. "He Must understand," continued Wendal, "well That grand completeness which God meant when He Thought out a woman ; and so surround the weaker, Sweeter life with stronger love that holds control. Not for mere brute will's sake, but that the broader Life like our home garden walls might shield from Harm our lily and our rose of life." "I wish you joy, dear friend, and if your rare Blush rose should prove a difficult one to Fasten on a wall, its wondrous fragrance Will repay the care." "Some choice instruments, You know, exposed to any winds give out No discord. But let us go; there is a view Below I want to show you, where the river Gathers up her silver robes and makes a plunge To unknown depths below." i ' a SONG Blow, summer winds from Orient Isles I Through summer days prolong Your incense breathing choruses In fullest tide of song. 68 IS Bloom, lummer flowers, in iummer fields! Empty each perfumed cup Upon the txMom of the winds, Let glad hearts drink it up. Gleam, Eastern skies, with rosy light I Flash out your golden beams Across the zenith to where dips The Western Isle of dreams. Shine bright upon us, stars of night, From azure fielii, afar I Build up to heaven a shining track. And set the gates ajar. BCX3K SECOND AT HOME The Wye dinced brighter in the morning lun, And tang its songs in lower notes it night, All nature seemed aglow with newer life, And offered sweeter incense at the gates That spread afar their gold and crimson bars, Glad to receive the waning light, while night Let fall the noiseless draperies of her robe On wood and vale and flower. Valoria's Face seemed lighted by the rosy reflex Of a smile within that wandered to her eyes And led them far away among green hills ; And often, too, her feet would climb some height. And die would sit ai' God by acting such a lie. Was I so weak that I must stoop for strength To such a weak thing as Hugh Waterford? And is my ear so lost to sense of sound That I m«st call his little jangling on The keys the music of my life?" -An4 yet. H« loves you, daughter." "Yes, as k» renders love. But wounds soon heal on such a soul." •'Are you Sure you do him no injustice in your Quick judgment of his heights and depths?" "Yes, I Have measured well his shallow soul — it were Most easily done. I might have (tone it standing On the brink without the trouble of once Stepping in, and saved the wetting of my Shoes' soles. As to heights, he does not even Comprehend an altitude. I feel that I Have let unworthy guests come in and fill The holy places of my soul. Father, You know what touched me on the Hill ; it drew Me up to blessed heights until I kissed The clouds and almost laid my hand in God's, And felt the farthest off infinity 7« Of space grow warni with loving. I cannot But think God gave me that, and meant it for My own; and if some evil thing has come Between my heart and its blessed light, I will Accept God's love in meaning it for me. And, despite my cousin's words, I hold him pure; I feel his soul is now, and always has Been, and will be forever, true to truth. I will be brave enough to live without Love, but I will not light a rush and call It noonday sun. I blame women who will stoop To say, 'I cannot understand, I love.' But I must quite despise a man who writes His name along with such an infant's creed: And he — he knows no more of all that makes My highest joy or deepest pain than night Of noon. It were not well to spoil God's other Gifts by setting in their midst an alien; God gives us love through His great perfectness In all things. Through all beauty we may read His broad name Love. Then if one source is dimmed It were a sin to close my eyes and say There is no Love? Life has many blessings; Let us be sure we miss none in counting. I gave our cousin audience in the arbor house And let him understand beyond a doubt His claim on me was void in life as well As law. He leaves to-morrow : then we will Go back — go back," she added, clasping her White hands around his neck, "And if there should Be something lost, my truest friend, why, we Will consecrate the void and make it pure From all that may defile or make a lie." Joy seems a prisoner that loves to find Its way back to the home it lost so long, 79 I i :l So long ago among the loni of men, And evermore it »it» within its cage Whose iron door is held fast closed against The world's starved heart held by the same strong hand That forged the curse. How eagerly it springs, When not too closely watched, to touch a human Heart, and light up weary faces, call back Wandering eyes or touch with its elixir Fainting l'>«! God knows humanity needs II^ warm • ^uch. Joy seemed to have unloosed its Prison H « r and dropped upon Valoria's life A dista 1 smile. She sat again before her easel, long Forgot, and there grew beneath the skilful Touches of her artist hand the picture Of a chalet fire; each bit of homely Furniture, each trophy of the chase, that Held a place within the Switzer's hut, came Out upon her canvas. Then a girl sat By the chalet fire, in Swiss costume. You Could not see her face, it was so shaded by The upraised white hand; but her attitude, Even to the ripples of loosened hair. Was one of wrapt attention. The crowning Touches of her art seemed to have been held To give strength, dignity and grace to her Companion, who sat throned in perfect type Of manhood, and who seemed so really Tall ng, that one felt at once to listen. Deep grew the sweet depths of her hazel eyes. And bright the rose tint on her soft white cheek. Shed from Art's altar fires that blazed up high And broad, its own white heat made crimson by The touche* of the rosy fingered god Who thrust his subtile wand among the flames So frequently that the fair artist's face Was often all aglow. The picture finished, An untouched bit of canvas took its place, And upon that grew near and distant Alps, The topmost silver-crested by the moon; And where the shadows fell there seemed to lie A measureless abyss of shade. The moon's Light glinted shower-like on a balcony Where two figures stood, the girl in shadow, But rile man — the same who sat by the bright Chalet fire- -emed to absorb the light, he stood So clear with shadow all around him. It might be that she felt herself again Upon the Hills, beside the chalet fire, Drinking in music from that sweet old tune piat never will grow old, but falls as sweet And new on human ears to-day as when In the first garden, long ago, God's voice Dropped soft and low to crown all other gifts, The silver notes among the sunset airs Of Paradise, which Adam quickly found And set to sweet, low, earth words, thereby drawing Lovely Eve from the glad wonder of new Life, listening with parted, pearl-tipped lips And cheeks like the shell's heart that lies within The bosom of the passionate sea, rose Glowing from its center, with new earth light Breaking through the starry splendor of her Heavenly eyes; for she seemed to bring back To her life the clear-eyed joyousness one Fmds in places near to love and God. 8i SONG Where the wft shadows fall, Where the wind's voices call Softly and low, Mother earth cover me, Daisies grow over me. Bury me low. Far from the sound of strife. From the rude voice of life, Bury mc deep. Where the soft summer rain Soothes all my weary pain. There let me sleep. Wild are earth's hopes and vain ; Even Love touches pain ; Bury me low. Mother earth cover me. Daisies grow over me. Bury me low. 83 BOOK THIRD Will evil triumph or will good prevail? And what avails the struggle with the wrong? Is human life floating up from the shore Of the great silence that enwrapped the world's First cot: ^ciousness (though long before God's voice Had echoed through the Dawn, leaving His words to crystallize in suns and stars) — Is this life, so floating from the Infinite, A thing to take with joy? Or is it but A mode of punishment for spirits who Have sinned in some dark long-ago? From what Shore oyer what waste of waters do we come, Lost children, far from home, who cannot tell Aught of their fatherland, but only know (By the sharp stirring of deep hidden chords At sight of perfectness of beauty meeting Eye or ear) that home was beautiful, but So far away! and that the faintest tread Of angel feet echoing down through the stars Brings to the soul a sense of pain and loss, Till "loss" becomes the watchword of the race! God help from his security of joy Those souls who cannot see the gain beyond The loss, the love beyond the pain ; and hasten On the golden time when they shall see The gain of loss. LONDON Mooer, for the sake of her he loved so well, His own young life blooming beneath his eye With beauty daily growing more intense, And he feared, frailer, took up life again In London, hoping the change and glitter 83 Micxocorr msoiution test cha>t (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2| A APPLIED IIVHGE Inc ^S*^ 1653 East Main Streel S^S RochesUr, Kcm rork U609 USA ^^S (716) *B2 - 0300 - Phone ^S (^'6) Zae - 5989 - Fan Of the world's gay heart might effectually Efface all traces of the shadow from Her heart and life. How wise our parents growl Did he forget a little box within A corner of a house in Wales, that held A girl's glove and a broken ring, with some Small fragment of a rose's heart? Did he forget the song, that, even yet In some June days when the low summer winds Were borne across the dry sands of dead years, Would come to him, that sad, sweet, nameless song, Bringing the memory of the mad, lost dream of youth? LETTER TO LEO WENDAL "Safe in the Happy Valley are you, friend Of mine, and watching daily round the walb If maybe you can find an opening through Your bliss whereby you may escape? Well, I Wish you all success, and hope you will strike A London trail. Since you have gone, I've lived Quite hermit-like, eschewed society. And snubbed the world. A month ago I heard A murmurous flutter of approving sounds And stepped out to see. A note from Lady Huntley (who is my cousin and a favorite. You know) baited with, 'I have got the sweetest, Newest, loveliest star to shine within My rooms to-night, so do not fail to come ' Brought me out, as I then thought "for one night Only." Who should be presented, lifting Her fair face like the queen of flowers, above A shimmering sea of pearl-like draperies, But Valoria Mooer — the same and yet So changed I scarce can tell you how. Her beauty 84 Flashes in the London lights with a power And brilliancy we never dreamed of when We all kept holiday among the Hills. I say, we, when_ I should say, I. How do 1 know how far'your dream went? Her eyes, those Clear-orbed hazel, wear a look sometimes tliat Strikes me like the cry of some lone bird lost In the night and storm. I find it only Comes in moments when the sentinel is Off his guard. I saw it come one day as she Turned from a picture rest that held a view Of Lauterbrunnen, but the rare brave mouth Did never once betray or swerve from its Sweet steadfastness; and that live color that I Used to call up with the mention of one Name, now keeps its place as calmly as some Painted dowager's. Wendal, to you I write Without a mask. You gave me once your manly Confidence, and I know that for you she bore In her white hand the olive branch that told Of the subsiding waters in your strong Unrestful soul, vexing itself while others Sat and smoked, with dropping line and plummet In unanswering depths ; and if I ever saw A woman whom love touched newly like a glad Surprise, I saw her in Valoria Mooer. We are bought and sold in this world's mart, And sell our royal birthright for a mess Of pottage that turns out the merest stew. That when one finds a real diamond Among the paste, he is as glad as was The one of old who found the Pearl of Price. The question haunts me. What has come between The light of your two souls, that should now be Shedding on each other their soft splendor? I shall confess my thoughts turn quite direct 85 To that man Waterford, who aped you all Through Oxford, and then wormed himself into Your confidence by claiming cousinship With your friends the Mooers. You can testify I never liked him, and felt always that There was the puppy in him, though he would Bristle up and bark in vicious big-dog style. This cousinship seems doubtful, for he does not Come within her circle here, but lingers round The outer edge with hungry eyes that make Me wish the good old privilege known as "Doubling up" to our brave sires had not gone out Among gentlemen. Mooer treats him not too Cordidly. I have watched them closely, thinking Of the words you said that night when you disturbed My peace by saying that you left London For the Happy Valley by to-morrow's train, And when I spoke, her name you said so coolly, 'O, our friend, Miss Mooer, she marries Water- ford—' And then, 'good-night,' so quickly that I thought I dreamed. Now take a friend's advice and hasten Home. I can but think you have been victims Of some wrong. There are quite an host of suitors At her shrine, but not one of them can bring The wordless music to her face that I Have seen there when a certain friend of mine Would step or speak suddenly at her side. Come back, O friend ! and try again your power — Flash out the music from her lovely face. I warn you if you do not I will try The scales myself. It is now said that "Howeth's The favored man." I think I am not quite Mistaken in the thought that when she hears My voice she listens to another that She first heard mine with. It is unflattering, 86 But truth compels me to admit she does Look past my eyes, although I am not quite So fragile as to be mistaken for a ghost. And yet I have failed to tempt her by my Most artful ulk to ask a question that Might touch your name; although I saw her bend An hour above a book and never turn A page one night when two of our old club Discussed you not far off. You know our friend Sawstones, the logical, with his three-storied head Well stored with facts, who wrote three books to prove That "A was A" in refutation of The heresies of Bick when he affirmed That from a given point "A was not A Alone but also B." Would you believe That he has trundled all his facts and fossils To her shrine and vowsd that if she would but Come to him that he would henceforth set her. At least even with his ologies within The highest chamber of his head and heart! He would keep his vow, too, piously as Men keep the wish of their dead wives, that they Should marry and not mourn for them. You l^-ow We never thought him conscious of another . Before; it is quite a new phase in which To study up the human, if it were Not too sacred to make notes, to see what Tremor of bewilderment the touches Of her robe will bring upon the settled Statement of his face. Now, Wendal, I have Given you warning fair. There are other Champions entering the lists, so should You care to lift her glove and break a lance, 87 I; 'ift •n i Then show your knightly spurs upon the field At once. The world will gather in three months To the great heart of England, there to see Its sights and show its shows. Valoria Stays until the coming vave rebounds. Her Father lingers more, I fancy, for her Sake than for his own. Hoping to meet you soon, Ho-.veth." SYDENHAM The great world gathered for its interchange Of sight and sound of sixty-one. It was A thing to mark a life: standing within The nave to hear the grand orchestra pour A nation's wail for the true prince who had Laid at her hushed feet the early broken "White flower of a blameless life." Meanwhile his Work lived after him and rose a fitting Monument, grand, high, and broad, and, like his life, Transparent, not hung round with cumbrous cur- tains Ready to be drawn at given signal Of a finger on the lip, but lifting Up its many crystals to the sun, flashed Back for every ray a thousand Patterns of the king of day. God be thanked Whenever on the world falls the sweet incense Of a good man's life! The wave of song had died Away among the courts while men stood silent With uncovered heads, and women wept at thought Of rile lone Lady on the throne whose star Of life had set so soon. Valeria's Thoughts were with the dead ; twice her father spoke Her name before she found the fitting words To answer greetings from a gentleman, Who said, "I have been most anxious we should meet, Miss Mooer._ I wished to say how much I am Your debtor for two pictures from your hand — Gems, I assure you, and not I alone — Your mother has not written, then ? Oh ! she Said perhai>s she would reserve it for a great Surprise." Then he told how a month ago. Being in Wales, he called upon his old Friend Mooer, was grieved to find that he was absent, But felt repaid at sight of two rare works Of art — Miss Mooer's last paintings — which Her mother showed. As he was on the list Of judges for that department of the world's Great Fair, he urged his claims at once, which Mrs. Mooer Had with great kindness listened to, and loaned Them for the time. He had himself attended To their hanging in most favourable lights: If Mr. Mooer and his fair friend would come Now, he would be most happy to conduct Them where they hung. Valeria's heart stood still. That those two pictures painted as they were From colors dra*n, like the fine spider's web, From her own being, should hang in mid-day blaze Before the idle gaze of half a world I Her lips refused to speak. Her father begged Excuse, another time, his daughter was Not well, had been deeply moved by the grand Tribute to our buried Prince ; and bore her clinging Like a dead weight to his arm, away from tifht And sound. Alone within her room, the storm Broke over her; the far off sea-line showed Its white-caps to the lowering sky, while waves, Starting from ripples in the distant years, Broke in broad columns at her shuddering feet. Uod help us in our helpless days of storm! When by the quick electric stab within The heart we know from just what wreck the wave-worn Fragment tossed upon the shore has come. This love! Alone at midnight she had dug its grave And pressed the mould upon it with her foot Uf pride; had raised no monument, planted No rose, not even pi-' d a little cross To say "Resurgam," when she passed that way. But to-day she knew it lived, had glided out Its i;rave e'er the sun glinted on the mould, And followed her with noiseless footsteps through The aching years, stealing the rose's bloom. The sueet heart music from the winds and waves. And all the light of beauty from her life. Now, pacing up and down her room, she pressed Her white hands on her eyes as though to hide The thought that her most sacred heart of hearts Hung in broad light for all the world to read. After the storm was spent she gathered some Degree of comfort from the thought that there Was only one, and he, she hoped, was safe In Abyssinia, whose eye, seeing Her work, could read her heart; so after all The world would only see the painted mount And torrents' fall, with a traveler standing By a peasant girl. After three dreary days 90 She took her place again among the crowd, More frail but lifting lily-wise hrr queenly Beauty white and rare. One day when half the world Had wearied of its sights and shows and had Turned homeward, Valoria, wandering through The thmning ranks alone, had paused to gaze Upon a painting near her own. She felt A sudden tremor through her frame, such as We sometimes feel when the electric wave From some other life reaches across the circle Of our own, and a soft girlish voice cried, TU • • . "L«>. 1 here is a picture here so like you that You must have sat for it in sopie of your Aerial flights." IT 1/ , .. T*"" * fay Birl'sh form Half followed and half led along a man In whom in spite of bronzed and bearded face She recognized her guide among the Hills Pointing to the picture of A Chalet Fire, The maiden said, "Cousin, behold your duplicate " His eyes followed half carelessly the painting Or her hand; then the life rushed up above The bronze and beard and broke in hurried ripples Over cheek and brow. n u- "y^hopainf'd that? HowethI Howeth!" Catching his friend who came along just then And pointing with his steady gaze, "There is But one in all the world who could have painted that." "Ah, very like; 'tis a rare piece of art; I have heard it much admired, but I wish To show your cousin here something quite rare In statuary, so with your leave I take Her now. Do me a favor, will you? See 91 That lady moving toward the door? Follow Her quick and give her this from me." Then, Howeth Thrust a letter in his hand and, bowmg, Led the lady bird away. By the time Valeria reached the door she had grown calm; So when the step she knew so well paused at Her side, and they two stood again gazing, Each on the other's face, across the edges Of the yawning years, she was the first to speak The fitting word; which friends use when they meet. Having been only friends. Wendal stood like A courtier who has been so long in duty On the field that when he found himself again In the bright presence of his queen forgot His courtliness. But there are souls who spring So quickly to each other's level, leaping All boundaries of time, estrangement, pride And almost hate, let them but meet, they rush, Electrify and mingle, quick as light And air, besides, one glance full in her hazel Eyes which looked but simple truth, yet neither Asked nor gave, wrought its old charm in spite of doubts And aching fears ; and when she smiled adieu, Holding the letter in the hand he had Just touched, his heart was keeping holiday Upon the Heaven-kissed Hills. "Now, Wendal, stay me with flagons of your Choicest wine, and comfort me with odors Of the East, while I recount my last achievement On the legal turf," said Howeth, entering his friend's Room when the night had come. "Thank you, two chairs 92 Will do. A week «go, coming from court One day with all my legal energies On Waterford. Thmking of some th-nK, that I wf.hed to know, I linked my arm :. .Ts. mi™ . •" u^ """"'• ^'"^ *"'•"''' opening Bloom to meet the sun as his confiding Heart opened to me. A glass or two of my Best Burgundy loosed every hinge, and (lung Wide open all the charmed recesses, where It IS supposed his inner nature hides It was hard work to hold the gUss and smile When one so longed to aim it at his head, But I restrained my rage, led him along By certain names, until within the narrow Chamber of his soul I pounced on a vile truth Know then: that when three years ago yo. put A letter in his rare on plea of cousinship, He never sent it, kept it till he might With his own eyes be sure if all were true He heard of his fair cousin's loveliness- He also gave attention to her father's Interest at the banks." c. , ,, "Whatlnever sent it? Then She never knew, Valeria ! Let me Oo, 1 11 hound him to her feet, force him To swear his perfidy before her eyes. Br.«r T- '" *'■'"'' °^ =" 'hose aching years Breathing their separating breath between Us since that last look in her eyes upon all """ "'"'' *'"" ^°°^"^ ^°' ""• ^°°^'^ Along the coming days for me, who never To Walej myself, drew near enou^.i to see 93 I Her tittinK in a garden teat, and ice Him bending over her arranging rote* In her hair. Then I believed the itory that He wrote roe telling of their love, alio Believed the menage came fiom her which he Passed on, that she could only think of me As a friend. Howeth, why hu the devil't Hand such power to trump our surest cards? But I must go to her now." "Listen a moment Longer— she knows all now; you placed within Her hand to-day the letter that you wrote Three years ago; and that I wrung from our Friend Waterford. After I gained to much By wine, I filled his timid soul with fears. It was a work of time, but still not very Difficult in hi:* muddled state, insisted Also on a written statemer • from him Of his own perfidy also sent to her. So now, my boy, go in and win ; as for Old brimstone Jack, we'll trump him with our Queen." Fair acres, varying wood and vale and lea, And winding silver links of low-voiced streams. Lay round a mansion where a lady moved With graceful step through brightly furnished rooms. Her white hand touching now and then a vase Of flowers, or statuette or drooping shade Of window drapery to more harmony. Now she looks from the windows or from off The balcony, lifts her eyes as though to catch Some coming one, and then she reads again A letter she has held all day, which says: "To-day I bring her, mother, bring my wife To-day, vhom jrou will love for her. sake as 94 ^"^ '"'IL,"""' """" "■•• ••" •'■""Id be" your Upon your daughter-, „a„,e; it ."„ tweet In hope and love, youri, ^ eo. This lady, let u» look at her and watch «"^--^-S7e-Sw fctee-rte'r''a'rfi " ""' "^^^''^ -«"•» Them fall upon the waters glidine „«/ A, we to our beloved, that the'^^ wH be A^n over the%a„Mi:r;trI:i'"X?e":f Will be sure to find its image still held in Its heart. _ Did the lone lady think of that Glad coming time, or did her thoughts stay with The dying leaf burning its heart away? As a sad spirit speaks to its familiar, thus The lady speaks: — "We sit beside a loom; Fate fills the shuttle while we weave and weave; We have no choice of shade, and often wearying Of the darkening web, we cry for 'rose and gold/ Fate's lips are dumb, her eyes cast down, she does Not heed our earnest cry, till some dark day. When we have ceased to cry for rose and gold, She drops by us a shuttle filled with each. We seize it eagerly, and weave ii through, But still no form, no comeliness I Our eyes May not look on the right side of the web. We hold the empty shuttle in our hands But search in vain for bloom of rose or leaf Of gold. It must be in bright bloom upon The other side; for only here and there A golden thread that shows no form is thrown Upon the wrong side of this web of life, To hold for some bright spanning on the right Oh, God I if the lone weaver could but see The ri^t side of the web, his weary face Might then not grow so pale, nor all the light Fade out of his sad eyes, nor his hands grow Thin, forget their cunning as he drops his Shuttle and falls beneath the loom, crying. Just as men say, 'he dies,' 'I see the right Side of the web.' Oh, weavers! it is hard To sit alone all day and weave and weave. To die and leave the web to be unrolled By other hands ; when one will cut out here A breadth, just where we lost our rose, to soften 96 Acouch. vvhHe AlXlj^Hl kin. Who furn.shes, and marvel at the rare Wrought beauty of design " My girlish dreams. VaIori» I ™ Of li'f. ■_ 7 vaioriai my rose 97 And ,aid with her good "ight. ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ Bade his child farewell, he said, 'Valoria, If ever one should look into your eyes In search of mine, and kiss their lids down when She finds them, give her this. ALUMNA POEM (Riad at the organitation of the Alumtue Jttocuh tion of Acadia Seminary. WolfvUle, N. S., June 1st, i8g2.) Ring out, June bells, upon the breeze, Floating the colors that we love, In loyal greetings from above The glory of the sununer trees I Bells of Acadia, strong and clear Ring out your country's meed of praise To those who, through the widening days. Weave the white web of knowledge here! The varied threads the ages span, On busy spindles of the brain, Are readjusted, till again The loom shows forth the better plan. Oh, busy spindles of the past! Oh, whirring wheels forever still! Dead spinners! who once sent the thrill Through laden shuttles flying fast Along your warp threads in the looms. Long crumbled in forgotten dust ; The hinges of your doors are rust . That closed upon your spinning rooms! Yet many a golden thread ye span. And many a new design is wrought On patterns which the weavers sought To fashion for the use of man. 99 Updrifting from the changing sea The past into the present brings The echoes of the song that rings O'er the wide earth by low and lea, Of the rare maid Evangeline, Whose simple tr :th shall ever stand The loadstar of Acadia's land, — Though ripening ages roll between The f r-o£E day, when, looking back From crowded deck of alien ship With breaking heart and pallid lip. The roof-trees' blaze illumed her track. A happier lot is ours to-day. Peace spreads her banner o'er the land; May queen and country ever stand The sacred names for which we pray. Greetings! from those who, looking back, Feel from afar the summer thrills, Spent glories on the morning hills, Grown distant in tneir lengthened track. Greetings of heart and hand to this June garden of Canadian girls 1 If loving thought might gather pearls Our rhymes would ne'er a jewel miss. We hold among the precious things Outgrowing from the heaven above, There's nothing worthier of love Or care from us than girlhood bring.. 100 With !t» sweet faith in coming good, It! fearless eye and ready hand, Its locks agleam with golden sand. God bless Canadian maidenhood 1 When die wide margins of the soul Are taking form and color on, Whenmen are heroes true and strong, And right knows never wrong's control; When purple summits, glory-crowned I Await the pressure of their feet. When all things true and gracious meet Upon the hills that stretch around. For white ranb forming year by year The spaces in your country wait. Your truth shall heir to make her great And fill her homes with happy cheer. Be sure no higher mission calls, Although the laurel and the bays Are held aloft in open ways. Than ministry within home walls, — To touch with bright artistic grace The common lot and daily way. To be the eye and ear and stay. Of those who falter in the race. For highest culture never should Disturb from its appointed sphere. From the creation, showing clear God's gracious plan of womanhood, — lOI The womanhood that trims the lamp Whose opal light shall ever gleam, Athwart the memory in dream; Of home, on ocean or in camp, — The womanhood that up and down The wards where wounded soldiers lay Walked while by her small lamp's dear ray The bruised hands moved to touch her gown. The womanhood that held the hands Of the Christ-child upon her lip,— The womanhood that saw the drip Of His life blbod upon the sands. The air is filled with boding sounds; Right struggles in the coming stress. While Reason in an alien dress Gives the pale Christ again his wounds. Tr-th is of God; it claimeth not To stand on any earthly base ; Wars rage, ambition shows its face In places by the dollar bought. Yet myriad nars cry out to thee. The spreading .:a this message rings. From the high hills of God there swings Truth's pendulum untouched and freel The right will triumph; let us then Work on the side yet sure to win. And waste no hours with soft-lipped sin, However sweet the tongue or pen; I02 Environed by whatever wrong, Hold fast the loul't integrity, The inner sanctuary's key, Though loud the clamor of the throng. Now let us each clasp woman's hands Around Acadia's maiden life. That glows to-day with promise, rife In future good to many lands. With earnestness as woman should Before the heat hath dried the dew, Ring out the frivolous and imtruel Ring in the nobler womanhood! "03 ENGLAND LISTENS What are the tound» that I hear. Gathering strength as they come, Earnest and deep as a prayer, Strong as a cheer for home? The voices of children afar Calling from over the sea, Be still, O babble of war. Till I hear what they say unto me. It is coming by steam and wheel, It is coming by wave and wind. It is flashing under the keel. And this is the message it brings: VOICES OF THE COLONIES Oh, mighty r.' other, take our sons To stand with thine around the throne. The pulses of thy Kingdom beat Strong in our hearts as in thine own. Thy cause is ours, our leader thou, To follow, asking no retreat. Shall we stand idle, while the stress Of battle presses at thy feet? Far from the Mayflower Lar.d, Far from the heather. Thistle and Maple Leaf Stand they together. 104 Right in the teeth of hell Shoulder to shoulder, Red Rote and Shamrock preti! Which it the bolder? Now the palm thowi its plume, By the Australian, Watch while he closes in. This is no alien. These are strong sons who stand Guarding the jrartal Of the old mother land. Crown them immortal Love by their graves shall weep Forgetting never. Light on their graves shall fall Ever and ever. 105 SONG Life gives u$ better thin it take* awaj. In brighter hope and broader, fuller day. There ii no past, but all things move and blend In sure fulfUment of a promised end. V/e leave the mistjr capes and vale* we trod For the glad sunshine on the Hills of God. To slow, grand measure up the aisle of years Move truths enfranchised from long bond* and tears. Hands chat groped darkly for the truth of things Hold the clear signet of the King of Kings. Broad waves, that tossed in fierce white passion heat. Fall into psalm and kiss the resting feet. io6