LP 
 A 3407 
 
 i. 
 
The Green Book 
 of the Bards 
 
 By 
 Bliss Carman 
 
^ ^ f ^ j^ i/t> tr. /^^^Li G^ ..D^ 
 
The 
 
 Green Book 
 of the 
 Bards 
 
 THERE is a book not written 
 By any human hand, 
 The prophets all have studied, 
 The priests have always banned. 
 
 I read it every morning, 
 I ponder it by night ; 
 
 And Death shall overtake me 
 Trimming my humble light. 
 
 5 
 
 198448 
 
THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 He Ml say, as did my father 
 
 When I was young and small, 
 " My son, no time for reading! 
 
 The night awaits us all/' 
 
 He '11 smile, as did my father 
 
 When I was small and young. 
 That I should be so eager 
 
 Over an unknown tongue. 
 
 Then I would leave my volume 
 
 And willingly obey, — 
 Get me a little slumber 
 
 Against another day. 
 
 w 
 
OF THE BARDS 
 
 Cont« . thit he who taught me 
 
 Should bid me sleep awhile, 
 I would expect the morning 
 
 To bring his courtly smile ; 
 
 New verses to decipher, 
 
 New chapters to explore, 
 While loveliness and wisdom 
 
 Grew ever more and more ! 
 
 For who could ever tire 
 Of that wild legendry, 
 
 The folklore of the mountains, 
 The drama of the sea ? 
 
 7 
 
THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 I pore for days together 
 
 Over some lost refrain, — 
 The epic of the thunder, 
 
 The lyric of the rain. 
 
 This was the creed and canon 
 
 Of Jefferies and Thoreau, 
 And all the free believers 
 
 Who worshipped long ago. 
 
 Here Amiel in sadness, 
 
 And Burns in pure delight. 
 Sought for the hidden import 
 
 Of man's eternal plight. 
 
 8 
 
OF THE BARDS 
 
 No Xenophon and Caesar 
 
 This master had for guides, 
 Yet here are well recorded 
 
 The marches of the tides. 
 
 Here are the marks of greatness 
 Accomplished without noise. 
 
 The Elizabethan vigour, 
 And the Landorian poise ; 
 
 The sweet Chaucerian temper. 
 Smiling at all defeats ; 
 
 The gusty moods of Shelley, 
 The autumn calms of Keats. 
 
 9 
 
THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Here were derived the gospels 
 
 Of Emerson and John ; 
 *T was with this revelation 
 
 The face of Moses shone. 
 
 Here Blake and Job and Omar 
 The author's meaning traced ; 
 
 Here Virgil got his sv/eetness, 
 And Arnold his unhaste. 
 
 Here Horace learned to question, 
 And Browning to reply, 
 
 When soul stood up on trial 
 For her mortality. 
 
 lO 
 
OF THE BARDS 
 
 And all these lovely spirits 
 
 Who read in the great book, 
 Then went away in silence 
 
 With their illumined look, 
 
 Left comment, as art furnished 
 
 A margin for their skill, — 
 Their guesses at the secret 
 
 Whose gist eludes us still. 
 
 And still in that green volume. 
 With ardour and with youth 
 
 Undaunted, my companions 
 Are searching for the truth. 
 
 II 
 
THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 One page, entitled Grand Pre, 
 
 Has the idyllic air 
 That Bion might have envied : 
 
 I set a footnote there. 
 
OF THE BARDS 
 
 ONE HUNDRED COPIES PRINTED BY 
 WILL BRADLEY AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A., IN DECEMBER, 1898 
 FOR BLISS CARMAN AND HIS FRIENDS