CIHM Microfiche Series (i\/lonographs) ICI\AH Collection de microfiches (monographies) g] Canadian Inatituta for Historical Micraraproductiona / InatHut Canadian da microraproductiona liiatariquas 1995 Technical and Bibliographic Notes / Notes technique et bibliographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available (or filming. Features of this copy which r.iay be bibllographically unique, which may alter any of the images In the reproduction, or which may significantly ch.-inge the usual method of filrtiing are checked below. 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Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming / II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutees lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, kMisque cela ^tait possibie, ces pages n'ont pas ^ fflmees. L'Institut a microfilm* le meilleur examplaire qu'il lui a 6te possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exem- plaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du point de vue bibli- ographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modifications dans la m6th- ode nomiale de filmage sont indiqu^s ci-dessous. 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Opposing pages with varying colouration or discolourations are filmed twice to ensure the best possible image / Les pages s'opposant ayant des colorations variables ou des decol- orations sont filmees deux fois afin d'obtenir la meilleur image possible. n AddHkjnal comments / CommentaiiBS suppKmentaiTes: Thii inm 11 filmed at th* riduetian ratio chaekad balow/ Ct dociNnant t«1 filme au taux de rMuetion indiqiw ct^datsous. lOX ^^^ ^^^ ux 18X 22X 26X MX D J - ~ 12X 1CX 20X 24X 7RX ^™^^ ^' ' ■^3* Th* espy filmad h*r« has baan rapreduead thank* to Iha ganaroaity of: National Library of Canada L'axamplaira film* fut raproduit grica 1 1* gtntrotit* da: Bibllothequa natlonale du Ceuiada Tha imagaa appaaring hara ara tha bast quality possibia considsring tha condition and isgibility of tha original copy and in kaaping with tha filming conuact spacif ications. Las imsgas suivantas onl ttt raproduitas avac la plus grand soin, compta tanu da la condition at da la nattat* da l'axamplaira film*, at an eonformiti avac las conditions du central da filmaga. Original capias in printad papar covara ara fllmad baginning with tha front covar and anding on tha last paga with a printad or lllustratad impraa- sion. or tha back covar whan appropriata. All othar original copiss ara filmad baginning on tha first paga with a printad or lllustratad impras- sien, and anding on tha last paga with a printad or lllustratad impraaaion. Tha laat racordad frama on aach microf ieha shsll contain tha symbol — » (maaning "CON- TINUED"), or tha symbol V (maaning "END"), whichavar appliaa. Mapa, platas. charts, ate, may ba filmad at diffarant raduction ratios. Thosa loo larga to ba antiraly includad in ana axposura ara filmad baginning in tha uppar laft hand cornor, laft to right and top to bottom, as many framas as raquirad. Tha following diagrams illustrata tha mathod: Las azamplaira* originaux dont la couvartura an papiar aat imprimOa sont filmis an commancani par la pramiar plat at an tarminant soil par la darniira paga qui eomporta una amprainta d'Imprassion ou d'illustration, soil par la sacond plat, salon la cas. Tous laa autras axamplairas orlginaux sont lltrntt an eommonfant par la pramMra paga qui eomporta una amprainta d'Imprassion ou d'illustratien at an tarminant par la darnitra paga qui eomporta una lalla amprainta, Un daa symbolas suivants ipparaitra sur la darnitra imaga da chaqua microficha, salon la cas: la symbols —^ signifia "A SUIVRE", la symbols V signifia "FIN". Las cartas, planchas, tsblaaux, ate, pauvant atra filmto i das Uux da rMuction diffiranis. Lorsqua la documant ast trop grand pour itra raproduit an un saul clich*, il ast filma a partir da I'angla suptriaur gaucha. da gaucha A droita, at da haul an baa. an pranant la nombra d'imagas n*cas>aira. Laa diagrammaa suivsnts illustrant la mathoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5*^ "laOCOPY (ESOIUTION TBI CHAIT (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2) ^ /APPLIED IN/HGE In, ^^^ 1653 Eost Main Street S%= ?f'?^*='«'' Ne* '^°rk 1*609 USA r.^S (^'6) 482 - 0300 - Ptione ^= (716) 288 -5989 -Fa, 'iJ.i':r'rM> i'OKfvis /V'.r N !.AV(:-:ij.;oTH ^.tCi'TS COLLECTED VERSE ITiis Edition limited to five hundred copies, of which this is Ho.,^S.&i..'.... J SELECTED POEMS or c;raven langstroth betts A0THO« 0» "SOMOT noH BilAKOU," "TAUM OF A OAUISON lOWM," "TBI rioinu," lie. ^ NEW YORK ASSOCUTED AUTL ,^ AND COMPILERS 1916 t227 Fill I 30, 68760 CorYUOBT, 1916, By Cmvxk Lamostioih Bins AU ritkls rutrvd ^ ^^:u!^x ^i-\ TO THE NOBILITY OF ART EVERr i ERE For permission to reprint various poems, the author acknowledges the courtesy of the Independent, The Out- look, Harper's WeeMy, Puck and the New York Herald. CONTENTS FAGS The Pehtume-Holdek Major Pckus Hymn to the Spirit of Beauty . . ,„ Astrophel ^J Ode to Spring ....'.'.[ J* " Autumn f ? " Winter , ] S Diana and Endymion lo Deformed ~ The Ever-growing Truth .'.'.'.'. „ Eugenie on the Death of Her Son . . • • • ■ 77 Resurgam ''''«« In the Gloaming ... ™ Oinadian Thanksgiving Hymn .' '.'.'.'.'..[ Xj Ine Hollyhocks .... SJ California g To the Poets .... * The Slumber .... S' One Kin Are We . . '°^ The Vision . . . . '°* The Birthplace of Freedom ..'.■.■ ™ The Golden-rod ' ' ' ' tti January ... The Barren Fig-Tree '.'.'. JJJ Questions of Life ... "♦ o the Bumble-Bee . . "5 The Poor Apple Woman .'.'.'. Ill Childless . . • ■ . iiy My Three Friends ..'.■.■ J?? Thanksgiving Hymn '.'.'' iZ A Withered Rose ... l^ Betrayed .... '* The Votive Rose ..'.'. JS Society and Art ... . J^ Lines on a Picture :?2 "Just as High as My Heart". '.'.'. ,^ The Prisoner of Love ' ' ' tm In Memoriam ... ;^ Robert Browning ....,[ \ \ ■■■■ IH lo Sidney Lanier ! iS vii ^" CONTENTS Major PoRus—Cotilinued Marlowe . »**■ Requiescat . " .' 141 rhreescore and Ten" . . '43 To Richard Henry Stoddard '.'.'.'..'• '^'' Songs and Lymcs Hey, Ho, Robin! . &Lea'd°^| ^':"''**'' National Anthem I l l [ J|| A Song of Summer , '37 Samt Christmas . . 160 S'4s'''soTg™'""'^""'''^''«'i^ve"; : : : ; jg My Lassie with Your Eyes'of'filiie '^ Fair as Ceres Bearing fiuerdon ; JTO A Song of the Dawn '72 Sea Song .... , 174 Invocation to Love '70 My Lady from the Sea ! '79 My Sonneteer '81 Song for the Empire State '. . '. !§| A Song of Hope . "* Cradle Song . 187 *'**'■*••••• 188 French Forms French Forms . . The Immortality of Song '5B The Renascence of Spring '^J ine Commg Age . . T '9° The Advantage of Love '* Under Marlboro' 202 Ballade of the Sea-Sei^eiit .' f?i Ballade of the Tailor . ^ The Servant of the Muse . ** The Bogey of English Free Trade ^'° Beranger's Songs 212 My Tricksy Muse . "* A Rustic Scene . "S A Perfect Friend "^ The Heart's Voyage . [ ^'7 O Sovereign Love . 218 The Vision of the Dis Debar .' '" Triolets 222 Quatrains The Quatrain . . . The Universal Life . ^^ Standing-Room 227 227 CONTENTS ix Qu*TKAi«s— Continued The World-Maelstrom of the West '"" Knowledge and Wisdom '= ""' 227 Penuel ... 227 Evolution . .1 228 Love . . 228 O". Certain Academicians '. [ [ ^ Old and New Art 228 To Certain Critics .' 229 The Basic Force 229 The Conventional Parson *^ Midas and Company *29 Cave Canem ! . , 230 Pegasus at Pasture ] *30 Orthodox Liberalism 230 The Poets and Mammon .' *•'" Sonnets and Sonneteers *3i Hie Shakespearean Sonnet '3' Poets and Poetasters . 231 On the Spiritual Barnum '3' Truth 232 To Some New Critics 232 Fancy 232 Self-Knowledge 232 True and False Fanie 233 Beranger .... 233 The Rule of Rapacity '33 The Profligate of Kindness .' .' ^33 T>aits of Women . 234 The Invincible Sex . 234 The Curse of the Coquette *34 Artificial Refinement . 234 Woman's Heart . . 235 _. 23s Double Quatrains Life TJe Iliad .'.'.'. 235 The Press . . 236 The Years of Life 236 Human Existence . 237 Truth 237 Shakespeare . . 238 The Humble-Bee ." .' 238 Hope and Despair . '. 239 Faith and Love 239 Pleasure and joy . 240 Ballads Canada to England . 243 I « CONTENTS Ballads— CoHiiHued hgi The Bonnet Blue 2^ Soldiers' Home ilg Good Saint Valentine ....'. t?i The Earl's Daughter " ' ' at? The Old Sabre if* Lamond ' ' ^i On the Frontier ....'.'..'. Si Devon and Drake ,,, Mary Jane ^^ Blind Milton ^S Defence of the Long Saut J^ Goring's Ride ' ' ' ' ^ Udy Maud .' .' .' ! ! 293 Sonnets Foreword jng Out of the Darkness (3 Sonnets) ..!'.!'' S7 Britain and Her Colonies "200 England and the Armada ! ' ' ' ' Son Belgium ■ ■ ■ too Japan [ ^00 Montenegro ' ' ' im Switzerland tm Holland ::■■■■ ?S A Warning to the Kaiser .... ' ' im The lighted Liberty ! ' ' " w The Hidf-Century Reunion at Gettysburg . . 101 Evening at City Point, James River, i8go . . ' i(u Charlotte Corday . . . ! 30! Shakespeare xXJ Lincoln ^ Alfred and Charlemagne .... iJi Cromwell ...... ^ Abdul Hamid, the "Shadow of God" .'.''' iS Garibaldi ' ' ' im Salvini 3^ Othello ^ Irving .::::' X Booth 100 On Reading the Autobiography of Benveiiuto Cellini .' vo John Henry Boner ,„. The House of Lords ^J? Don Quixote -i. To the Moon-Flower ,,, The Condor \]l Honor and Fame .... ,,, Love and Truth ^J^ Wisdom and Knowledge ... ^Jj CONTENTS jd SotmEts—CottliHued noi Peace ,,. Fortitude il* The Unseen World ... ,,2 Humanitas .... ,,g Personality '■'■'.'.'.'.'.'. 316 Science . .' ." .'.'.'.".■.■ IIZ The Tide of rime i\l Death : 11 The Qosing Walls ^Jo Life's Voyage \\^ The Ret«™ ...:... i! i''' ?^ Grand Manan ' ' wa The Water Lily (2 Sonnets) . . . '. tij Spring Morning ' ' " «a Summer Night in the Country ' ' ' txi The Bather iii Summer Noon .'''''' ti\ To a Friend |23 Love :J2 The Conjunction of Love ..." ,« The Security of Love .... Sf The Fortitude of Love ... ^ The Favor of Love ....'. H? The Quality of Love [ ?g Devotion of Love ... fZi Immortality of Love ....'. ?S ^g""^*^ '.:::. ^ To 329 The Ideal .::::; ^ The Ideal Found . . . . .' ^30 To Astrea (8 Sonnets) •■■■'.'.'.'.'.'. ^ A Garland of Sonnets To Shakespeare .... ,,/: Homer ........',[ 336 Chaucer . . ^^"^ Tasso : ; 337 Spenser ' r Marlowe . ....*!,* ^^ Shakespeare . 339 Milton ... 339 Dryden 340 Pope ... 340 Bums ... 34' Scott ... 341 Byron .... 342 342 «fi CONTENTS A Ga«lakd of So smn—ConHnued mi Keau Shelley .... 343 Coleridge . . . ." *" Wordtworth ... ?*♦ Hood 344 Schiller ... 345 Goethe 345 Biranger 346 Hugo .......;; 346 Tennyson ... 347 a™I!jh"* ■■■■■'■'■■'■■'■'.'■:: ^ Arnold ... ""S Bayard Taylor ...'.' 34» Emerson ... 349 Longfellow . 340 Lowell .... 350 Whittier 350 Whitman ....?'.'.'. 3Si Morris .' 35' Kipling ... 35* Mistrj ...;;;;.■; 35* L'Envoi ... 353 354 THE PERFUME-HOLDER A Persian Love Poem This poem is derived from a prose story, called "Selim, the Unsociable," by Arthur Kennedy and originally pub- lished in Temple Bar. THE PERFUME-HOLDER pROUD Naishapur, two hundred years ago, A Inviolate from the galling Turkish foe, Lite a warm opal dropped from Allah's hand, Lay ghmmenne on the green Khorassan land. Girdling the South, the desert's sandy coil Strangled the verdure and oppressed the soil; But East and North the languorous noon-day breeze Lifted the leaves of lime and tamarind trees Over the hills, within whose broken row The gleaming city watched the river flow. Along the camel track from Ispahan, Came tinklings of the nearing caravan, Trailing its parched, dust-cumbered passage down Into the market of the wealthy town. Piercing the vibrant ether, bold to view, A hundred minarets burned athwart the blue; The purple roofs of mosques, like sunset isles, Blazed all their panoply of porcelain tiles, While from the waUs the names of Allah shone In many a scrolled and squared device of stone Color and light loomed everywhere; their glow Burnished the booths and houses, row on row ; They flamed across the palace court-yard fla^ And blazoned even the cringing beggar's rags. The darkling ponds and fountains steely-cold The sun's keen alchemy changed to shimmering gold; And marble cupolas and awnings white Flashed forth all splendid with reflected light; While green pomegranate leaf and pregnant vine * THE PERFUME-HOLDER All earth w» bathed in palpitating heat; The .un-ray, marched enclcure. lane and .treet wt garden, and the roofs of market .talk, Spreading one g are of yellow radiance down Oer h,ll and valley, de«rt, wood, and town High noon in Na,,hipir l-the gay bazaar,, Heaped w.th their ware, wrought under hilf the .tar. One ant-hke huge, conglomerate market made ' 5 t X Ca K '"•"I"'' ''■™'"""8 vein, of iade. Yet the loud buzz of traffic even there Sjnk, at the high ^uezzin', cdl to prayer While so oppreMive grow, the blaze of day A li .u7 * "^"r, ""■■'" »'"^k the way. A little longer swirl, the bu,y bruit About the coffee stall, and booth, of fruit- A moment longer doe, the merchant stop, Uap^to the slender shutter, of hi, ,hop. Then .n h.s flapping ,lipper, homeward hie, To prayer, to pipe, to Fatima', dark eye, Hu.t'j ""r'^!'^ ""''y' •"'■eh' bazaar" Hushed are the chaffering and the hammer's j.. And silence settling o'er earth', fevered face Soothes for an hour the throbbing market-pkce. One man, a poor artificer in brass, btirs not as forth the hurrying vendors pass: But soon as quiet breathes along the street, bprmgs from his leathern cushion to his feet. Lays by the lantern he had shaped that day Uoks out along the cleared, deserted way. Take, down the bowl of rurds and loaf of bread That stand upon the slielf above his head, Hoob up a curtain o'er hi, small retreat THE PERFUME-HOLDER Which opens full upon the buiy ttreet, Cutt one more glance along the farther wall, Then hides himself behind the portal-shawl. One might have he-rd within that curtain 'oon A tapping througl the hot and quiet noon: A strange man this— mayhap for love of gain He worb mid-day when all for rest are fain? Such was his custom, and the passers by Had ceased to scan him with a rurious eye. The gossips had no tale of him to tell; They named him Selim the Unsociable. Too poor for note of even the idlest there Was he, and why he spent the hour of prayer Behind his curtain, save for rest and stiade, None knew or cared; few were that sought his trade. Twould seem such anxious privacy and heed Had little use; the street was bare, indeed. Save vagrant dogs that strewed the shining track, Like pious Moslems sleeping in a pack. Snarling in dream, because the heated bricb In poignant fancy smote them like the kicks Of Allah's Faithful — snapping jaws in pain, Then stretching out their quivering legs again. Who treads with silent pace the empty street. Then halts and hearkens to that hammer's beat? Well might you mark him by his furtive eye A friend to Falsehood, grasping, shrewd and sly. To Selim's booth he moves, — he makes a stand, The curtain raises with a stealthy hand And peers within ; the sudden shaft of light Flashes a marvelous work upon his sight; For lo, between the craftsman's bended knees, Prouder than aught that Shah or Sultan sees,' With lines of purest arabesque enscrolled, * THE PERFUME-HOLDER A r r/ume-holder. rich u burniJied gold, Wrought .11 in l,r«.. cu, round withV d^ign. With mottoe. graved between the flowing li„«. Of Mtique mould the b«; .uperbly u' * The iwelling bowl; ,nd like , lily ,„ .j, TTie .ten, ro« curving; .nd it. feet were wrought W.th cunning art from Indian carver, caught. A miracle of rare and patient art Informed by geniu. ripening from the heart. Such „ m,ght lift the incen« at the .hrine Of Allah or of Mahomet the Divine One might forego all sen.e Mve that of sight. The life-long master of that heart's delight! You in the cloud-spanned, amethvstine West Know not what ceremonious, prideful zest Ihe Persian in hi. mistlew, azure air Brings to his perfume even a. 'twere hi^ prayer. The perfume-holder, no effeminate whim. Holds ever first and honored place with him; Drop on the powder but some glowing coal., Lo. from its bowl the spiralled perfume rolls; Dear unto Allah as the mingled breath Of lovers passing through the gates of death. To lie awake in one bliss-haunted dream Where leaves are rustling and coo] fountains gleam Wuhin a v.ne-hung. lustrous colonnade While near, some large-eyed, love-enchanted .aid Leans, lily-crowned, against a marble jar. Caressing languidly her light guitar Her fingers glancing V„ the shimmering strings l^ke play of moonbeams on deep bubbling springs. Wooing the soul ot melody divine From murmuring streams and groves of haunted pine. Hei bosom lifting to the waves of sound I THE I'ERFUME-HOLDER Th«t have in one delicious Unguor drowned The outer ncnie, leiving the ipirit free To revel in one iwoon-like eotuy— And then to vatch the pungent vapor curl With many a (lender and fantastic swirl Swung through the vibrant music, till the air Freighted with tinkling sounds and odors rare Filters soul-deep within the fleshly mail, Till, rapt, escaping from the body's jail. The spirit issuing through its portal flies To fairy realms of wonder and surmise- Such were indeed a taste of Paradise! Small thought of this had he, that sordid spy, Who on the masterpiece cast curious eye. He was a merchant, trained to every guile Of trade,— to fawn, to browbeat, and to smile; Careful to hold, in every scheme he tried Of fraud or rapine, law upon his side. His talon fingers in their craw'ing clutch Pulled forth the shadowinp ciruin overmuch. And Selim, of his presence made aware, Looked up and met jhe intruder's searching stare, And frowning, marked the sordid ruthless trace Of avarice on the man's ill^)mened face. Then spake the stranger with a smile compressed,- Selim, has Allah made the time of rest Too long, or given too brief a working day, That thus you toil the noontide hour away ?" As some proud courser that with action grand losses aside a strange caressing hand. So Selira threw his head back at the word. For hateful to him was the voice he heard. And answered: "Surely little rest doth lie With him, O merchant, who with delving eye Looks either in broad noon or yet at night 8 THE PERFUME-HOLDER On that which others fain wouU t«.n *, • i. Wherefore I work at mid-dav or I rest." He set aside the wonder-work of art And waited for the questioner to depart XNor rested but to mark the vessel out The other, Mowinfhis T«%i" >>' -<•• ^I h!^ ,^"V''-"'ng, unbelieving ™ne- Deier,-: r^'TT^ ^""^ '™- "^e North FV^ V • "'""^ ''"''■ *'"' ^'"tures forth Fron, Venice even to the farthest East; ForlT K- ""'' °* """^ " lordly feast £ SelL'n "^ '^ ''"• "°"'''''» 'hou b^t sell?" But Sehm no persuasion might compel He itkeTh"?""' '"• "^ '''"^ ^•''•'-^d. Th-nT u '"'^'"" '" ^ '^e<'»f Chest, 1 hen to the merchant lifted, one by one The simpler works of brass that he had done - They v^ere but few,-till forth the chaffet lent And left him with his solitude content. The swart Egyptian boy who lounged before wSed^^ira'ten^Srr^^^^ The wicked p;r;osei%reVaf;;:;e:"™'- For every „„, every glance betra^d The heart of greed whose hand would not be stayed. THE PERFUME-HOLDER A strident voice came, calling from afar The hour of work; at once the clattering jar Of hammers rose again athwart the air, The seething throng poured back into the fair, And through its alleys swirled the babbling flood. Like buzzing bees a-swarm within a wood. But Selim, through his resting hour intent And keenly active, languid now, was bent Above the brass-work, as though toil were grown Distasteful to him since the noon had flown. His hammer strokes, less eager, blow by blow. Dropped on the brass, grew slower, still more slow, And oft he clasped his brow and closed his eyes. Bruised by the coarse discordant market cries'; Then with a start, as if in self-disdain. Caught up the unfinished lantern once again. It was a hot and glaring afternoon; Through the bazaar the hum like a bassoon Surged constant; presently a clamorous throng Came, booming with the beat of drum and gong, While, blaring fitfully, the snorting blast Of trumpets on the scorching air was cast. The gathering scuff of many slippered feet Came now low-rustling down the dusty street. The loiterers left the shadow of the walls. Lured by the shouts and boisterous trumpet' e^^'P^ brought. 1 hey deemed h>s silence but a surly whim BI,n^ ff 'f'* ^"" ""'"• ^''h bowed head, Blind to all else, held survey in his mind Ihe incompleted lantern he let lie- 1 he words of rumor as they floated by Blent with his dream: "The flower of Iran's land Is his beloved." He sighed, looked at his hand Then from his finger, slowly and in pain ' Unwrapped a narrow^ linen. He was fain To draw still further backward from the sting O passing eyes. A tiny hammered thing ^ Of brass close-twisted to a biting ring, Around his finger showed, whose tissue, red Twmged to the pressure of the figured shred. He wet the cloth, replaced it, while a chim; Of thoughts went swinging backward to the time When she, pale l,ly of his heart, had stept Across the door.ay where his goods were kept And in a playful, blithely-mocking vein "^ ' Had given him this circled pledge of pain. Ay, he remembered, how upon that morn He felt-all wonder, joy-his soul was born! How he had gazed upon her laughing eyes As at a Pen wafted from the skies Fairer than houri to the bosom pressed Ut Mahomet in the regions of the Blest Except those eyes, each glittering like a star, cltlt k""^*" "■" "'"^''- °f' by chance Caught the obeisance and adoring glance Of helim, sitting laboring in his booth; THE PERFUME-HOLDER And as she viewed the trembling rose of youth Throw signal on his cheek, she smiled, again Returned him salutation; now and then Loitered some moments at his little stall. And then with innocent art by letting fall Some comer of her veil, in hide-and-seek. Revealed the sweet curved vision of her cheek Of ripening olive, like the moon in mist, And rose-red lips half parting to be kissed. One day — one of those few thrice happy days That star perchance a lifetime — his amaze Burning his face, and hope still hopeless all. Rallying his heart to Love's unreasoning call — She came to visit Selim and to buy Some tii'.^kets of his patient industry. Lingering s;;» stayed an hour; she bade him tell The way he wrought the brass; with playful spell Now drew from him the use of lead and pitch; Then took the die and punch and bade him teach Her hand to cut the ductile metal through; One little die she held, 'twas, virgin new; A tiny whorl the pattern was; she tried To punch a strip of brass, while he, to hide Her slender fingers from an errant bl'iw. Shielded them with his ampler hand, and so As once the stroke she missed and still again, Still he rejoiced for her he suffered pain. At length she gave him back the die; he swore With words of fire, no one should use it more Except himself, nor he but on some gift For her; then she, her laughing eyes uplift To Selim's face, and with a doubting air Mocking his earnestness, yet told him where A kinsman dwelt, whose hand would duly take The present he might fashion for her sake. i " THE PERFUME-HOLDER Then did her mood to childhke humor pass: Again she took a tiny shred of brass And twisting it with pincers in a ring Round Selim's finger tightly, tried to bring Mischievously, across the strong man's face A twinge of pain, and smiling left the place. And Selim, never from that hour at rest. Had shrined her lovely image in his breast; A few more times she passed his open door heekmg the market, but she smiled no more Upon him, though his eyes with hunger sued; That one brief meeting never was renewed. . Now his roused purpose to one issue ran: Upon that day he straight for her began A perfume-iiolder, lavishing his fond heart Upon It; for it eased him of his smart 1 feel he wrought her service, and to see Its beauty heightening— as some stately tree bpreads in the desert-when with the patterned whorl He would Its richly shining face impearl With tiny insets glimmering to the view, fashioned to let the writhing vapor through One name for her he had and only one: At each moon-end, his task more nearly done He muttered as with care he placed apart ' The gift, '■ 'Tis for The Star-of-Selim's Heart;" The star that touched the wan, the lonely sky Of his rapt spirit, and then passed him by. And now 'twas finished— every tiny scroll Wrought perfect; but the work in Selim's soul Was never finished, but incessant beat Upon his heart, while through the mid-day heat THE PERFUME-HOLDER The hammers with their chnking, changeless chime, Uinned out their symphonies to unresting Time. j^ took the cunning tool, the ddicate die That formed the whorl, and with a gloomy eye fefaced its pattern with his file and cast The steel, disfeatured, on the street, then passed Une hand across his brow to smooth its pain, And took the unfinished lantern up again. Even as he worked a warm Elysian dream Closed o'er him like a sunset, gleam on gleam. Upon the wings of passion forth he flew To clasp her where, unknown to her, in view Of fancy he had held her;— next the note Of vision changed; he saw her vestments float W-w-hite through flower-strewn ways, and on her face A pleading look, as one who asks for grace; For she was now the seeker, and he— where? He knew not, cared not, nor could seera to care- But down the eddying current of his swound A vei'cd form came that told him "I have found My perfume-holder;" straightway he was made The perfume-holder; smiling then she laid Caressing hands upon it, and did speak It fair, and pressed it to her velvet cheek, " And, like to Allah's blessing, letting fall Her silk of hair around in shining pall; And over all— the night without a frown, And the white moon and stars were shining down. I hen for one moment, through the hammered brass He felt his soul, the soul of Selim, pass And trt able to the magic of her touch. The moment sped; there fell low voices, such As Allah sends to true believers, when He whispers of the crooked ways of men. 13 '4 THE PERFUME-HOLDER That called, "O Selim! Where is Selim?" Soon A sweet known voice made answer like a tune, I will find Selim, for I know him by The ache within his finger"; then the sky Sank burdened with the sorrow and the pain Of blighted souls that on sad earth remain; So, forth went that fair form that held the voice Among them, seeking, till she found her choice Selim s all-constant pain: with that began By the dream-power the building of a man Like Selim, yet unlike; the half-things fell And crumbled in the falling; but the spell Kept on till, lo, the finish— head to feet! Then for some moments Selim was complete, Sitting in the bazaar, his right hand laid Across his hammer, and the lantern stayed Betwetn his knees; but nowhere now was seen The Star-of-Selim's-Heart— naught but the sheen Of brass-ware, and the crowd that thrcnged again The market, babbling of the marriage-train. "Twas but some moments moro— and the bazaar vanished again — upon an ivory car He sits, the enchanting lady by his side. Lo, she is wreathed with roses like a bride! Bright as Ayesha in the Court, of Day; Pearled like a dewy lily in the ray Of morning. Like the Shah's his kaftan white Flames with a diamond, a deep fount of light, A Sultan's ransom; forth in state they ride Midst cheers that surge around them like a tide, Drawn by a gold and-crimson-harnessed span Of cream-white horses, (such .t Ispahan Speeds the Shah prayer-ward on great days of state) ;- So move they proudly to their blissful fate; Flowers rain upon them and their coursers' feet THE PERFUME-HOLDER ,3 Stamp cloth of gold, as down the echoing street 1 hey press unto their nuptials— till a band With h.m, The Shadow-of-the-SultanVHand, Fronts them with challenge; straight a conflict gtom^- The pnnce hath claimed the bride-tumult and blows Bnng blood a..d death :-now Selim wounded lies, His bride and jewel both the prince's prize. Again the vision changed; his memory fought Against oblivion, for his mind was wrought Still with his finger-ache! Then she again Is with him on a wild storm-wasted plain. A ponderous iron mace he grasps in hand; Forth like the mighty Rustem doth he stand, hheathed in full mail; to a tremendous round Uf burnished brass his aching arm is bound; A company of leprous devils shout Against him ; and amidst that evil rout, Two Sheltans, fierce and terrible to view As the White Demon god-like Rustem slew. But the sweet lady, she has naught of fear,— She loves him; to his wounded hand draws near And kisses it; then the Sheitans howl in scorn • While he, alike with love and passion torn. Rushes, deep cursing, at the hideous pair,' And closing on them heaves his mace in air. Then suddenly he woke— the finger's pain Stung him awake— now in his stall again, A poor brass-worker, his bright vision flown. Unloved, ignoble, scorned, reviled, alone. A laughing, jeering crowd around him kept, For he had moved and muttered as he slept; And lol amidst the laughter loud and long, The slime-tongued merchant, foremost of the throng, i6 THE PERFUME-HOLDER Faced him: "O Selim, your brave dreami must spin From poppy-head, or some old potent bin Of purple Shiraz! Those who hashish eat, Like fakirs play thus to the crowded street More strange adventures than were ever sung By great Firdusi of the silver tonsue." Then pausing, whife the brutal mirth ran high, And Selim, too bewildered to reply— "I, too, can dream, though scarce of lady's lips, And battle, but of merchandise and ships ; For, while in sleep I rested this mid-day, I dreamed that Selim came and heard him say, 'Here, take thy perfume-holder— I would feast; Bring forth thy bezants, be thy name increased'; Or sell to Marco, if so be thy will. To profit thee and me ; I'll drink my fill Of pleasure; let me flourish and be gay And kiss the maid that I hr j won to-day.' Here sits my Selim mooning in his bootn , Say, has my vision spoken aught but truth?" Said Selim: "All I sell is in your view, I have no perfume-holder here for you." The knavish merchant made him this repeal, With crafty leading, to the crowded streec. Yet once more he began— "But dreams are sent From Allah." "Some, not yours"— then Selim bent His eye full on him, "I have these to sell, If so that you would purchase it is well, You shall have value just and good; I need Money to-morrow ; be the price agreed. Or if my wares you want not, pray you cease And leave me, in the Name of Whom be Peace." Then did the merchant buy of Selim's art Some pieces, lothful with his coin to part; And took his leave, while Selim, richer grown By a few silver coins, did little own THE PERFUME-HOLDER 17 For merchandise, save what discarded lay, The unfinished lantern. Now he worked away fiercely upon it, that his wearied thought Might cease its whispering, and Time be brought 10 mend hu pace. So, till the market gate Was ready to be closed, he lingered late At labor; rising then with anxious care He fastened tight the little shutters where The treasured gift, his pride and solace stood; Ihen paced the unfriendly street in restless mood. That night ill-boding dreams without surcease Assailed his spirit, crucified his peace. That one short night seemed fraught with danger more Anf? L """ored nights that went before While he his treasure in the chest had kept In that deserted market-place. He slept Fitfully, brieHy, now that once he knew A bad man lusted for it; then he threw His clothes upon him; wandered up and down The winding streets and alleys of the town. Still ever passing where his treasure lay Behind the palisades which barred the way To the brass-worker's moonlit, still bazaar. Up raced the savage watch-dogs barking war. Leaped at the gate which held twixt them and him As though they fain .lad torn him limb from limb A watchman with his lantern, on his rounds, Drew near, attracted by the clamoring hounds, haw Selim, knew him, and passed otherwhere- While he, with bodeful brow, kept gazing there Between the bars, where one long shadow fell Across his shop — a lonely sentinel. Thus aimlessly until the dawn of day He wore the weary hours of night away. Il THE PERFUME-HOLDER Sc«rce did the market open than hii door He opened too; then hammered as before At the half-finished lantern; next took down The perfume-holder, wrapped it, that the town Might iiot view what he carried; then returned AH quickly home. With what the brass-ware earned He clothed himself in festival array As though it were for some high holiday; Tied with deft hand the perfume-holder, too, Within a broidered silk of creamy hue. Wherein he placed a scented billet writ In flowing verses when some rhyming fit Had seized his spirit in the silent night; This a caligrapher did fairly write. With many a courteous phrase of love profound; And various woven flowers the border bound. Behold the eager Selim as he stands. The perfume-holder lifted in his hands. Apparelled fair, ready to play \,U part Of service to the mistress of his heart. The full fine head-cloth of white hand-wove stuff Broidered with glimmering gold and threads of buff. About a cone of yellow camlet winds; Below, a snow-white linen skull-cap binds With narrow line his temples, showing fair Above his bronzed face and coal-black hair. His head is straight, symmetric, small of size. As of a steed alert, and his dark eyes Are lustrous like a steed's; an eager grace Plays in the outlines of his mobile face; The lips are proudly set, the nostrils fine, The features delicate and aquiline; His tunic like the turban white, each fold Of linen with its waving lines of gold; A knife-case in the silken shawl is placed THE PERFUME-HOLDER Who«! BTKeful folds wind round hi. tlender wii.i;_ l-rom far Cuhmere to Shiraz shall you see No statelier, no braver youth than he. The messenger he gained for his emprise Was an old woman, good, discreet, and wise; But ask not of the look on Selim's face As m her hands the love-gift he did place Or while he watched her dragging steps depart 10 her, the sovereign of young Selim's heart I He stood m trance while heart and visage burned, Waitmg until the ancient dame returned. Of';^^''.!!'°"i"'?'" "^ '^' »"l^Proud dream Uf bliss dread ruler, passionate and extreme! In thy closed hand are wealth, fame, life, and death- Self at thy heart, self-sacrifice thy breath; The clown thou makest king, the king a clown; Thou turnest cowards brave, and with thy frown rhe man of blood is quelled; yea, even the clutch Ut avarice, groping for the overmuch. Yields to thy smile and to tly promise sweet Mrews its blood-sweated bezants at thy feet- But when a heart like Selim's owns thy power He IS all slave, all votary from that hour! He stood and waited; years it seemed went by I he glare of mid-day paled across the sky The hum of distant traffic ebbed away. And o'er the hills the flame-born god of day Seemed to halt yearningly ere, passed from sight. He left the lovely city to the night. Sel.m stood, Vf aited ;— back she came at last; I here was no need to question her, he cast One look between her hands where she did lift Trembling to meet his gaze the unopened gift >9 20 THE PERFUME-HOLDER Saying, "The lady by the Shah'i command Ii wed— The Shadow-of-the-Suhan't-Handl" The words itruck Selim tpeechleit, he had known One joy in life, a dream, hit, his alone, And he had drank it with a royal art, Like Jamshid, till the wakening stung his heart; His head fell forward, for some breathless space The blow was deathening; ghastly white in face He tottered toward the door like one in years. Borne down with grief that scorched the fount of tears. Grasping convulsively the brazen jar. He found himself again in the bazaar, The while with quivering lips, distractedly, He muttered texts of old philosophy. Groping for consolation, but no heed Could give them — ah, how often in our need. When earth is black benea'K t^ <. blackened skies. They fail, those deep proud sayings of the wise I Yet through his agony was woven a tune Of words that clogged his tongue — as 'twere some rune Hammering its dreadful rhythm through his brain — And mingled with his bitter draught of pain: "Tkf Cup 0/ Life with wine or wormwood flows; The Leaves of Life keep falling, and the Rose Whether at Babylon or at NaishapUr, Fades, and her garden mate unheeding blows." These were the words of one in Selim's town, Gone long before, a sage of wide renown. Who learned the mystic law that moves the stars. But yet whose soul, foiled at life's prison bars, Testing the hollowness of earthly state, Mocked sadly at irrevocable fate; THE PERFUME-HOLDER And, ipitc of fgim and power by learning won, Re-wrote the olden tale o< Solomon, Chanting the hopeleu burden o'er again, " Til vain— the life we live, like death, ii vain I" And Selim turned to wo;k, because he felt Hit reaion totter a» he slowly spelt The branding of the blow upon his soul ; In work, unceasing work, he might control The anguish of his heart, and so — vain, vain The miserable days that must remain! He had forgot or had not cared to change His holiday vestments; down the sun-baked range Of the bazaar the whole brass-working tribe Broke forth upon him with loud laugh and gibe That bit not like the fangs of anguish grim. Yet like a swarm of gnats they worried him. Yearning to be alone, his soul was wronged As round his path the ojarse mechanics thronged With mock obeisance, gestures rude, uncouth, Jeering, as they pursued them to his booth— For little love they bore him. "Taunt him well! Is he not Selim the Unsociable, Too proud to mingle with his equals?" There They crowded close to see how he would stare— For a dire chance had happened him: thus he. Unto his small store staggered heavily. His booth was plundered; all his wares were gone! Far worse— his tools! He could not think upon Their loss. Their value was not great, but dear Almost as were his fingers; misery drear Drifted across him; only now remained The unfinished lantern, but deformed and stained. As though the plunderer held its value light And with his heel had crushed it out of spite. aa THE PERFUME-HOLDER A long time he sat, there in his little shop, Still as an image of stone, his head a-prop Upon his hands, a ruined man, bereft Of all he owned most dear. To him was left, When he a little cleared his mind to think, (His cup filled full, with madness at the brink). Only the gift returned which he still held. The perfume-holder; now is he compelled To purchase bread and tools; now must he go And from the merchant buy a lease of woe. Blindness and deafness fell on eye and ear, Confounding all, nor grew his sense more clear As he went stumbling to the merchant's stand. The empty pledge of his false hope in hand. The place of sale with merchandise was rich ; Fine armor blazed from bracket, hook, and niche; Sabres from Samarcand and costly shawls From Indian looms were hanging on the walls ; And Orient ivories, carvings from the Isles Within their lacquered cabinets stood in files. The shelves were heaped with stuffs of rich brocade; Mirrors of steel with silver frames inlaid With jewels, glittering daggers, hookahs fine, And all the costly wares of Levantine And Indian markets crowded all the space. As Selim gazed in wonder round the place Coarse faces covered him with leering scan. Fit tools of service to the sordid man Whose slaves they were, and downcast Selim felt The transient courage he had groped for melt Whole from his heart; his one despairing thought Sowed desolation; things against him wrought In foul conspiracy. The merchant now Began with lowering and con jmptuous brow To underprice, to scorn, to viliify. THE PERFUME-HOLDER J he, .,k ..g Sehm «hat his need might be, He lold , „„ he would take for surety Said qT".!?"" ''"'""^"'"•""'- '"dly then &a,d Selim, "I need brass and tools again To carry on my trade." The merchant's smile S forth h" K "'l '"' -^'^"'"'^ •-'' °f ^"e As forth he broLight a » ell-assorted p„ k Then Tr/^t' ''" ^^'™ ■^'='"'='' back, Looked all thmgs round him; darkness seemed to fall And deathly coldness, blotting earth and sky ' Sudden^ I T'T "' ^'"'^ ^""^'^'i him by. Suddenly loomed the n.erchant's hateful face Uose oer his own, in horrible grimace; Forth sprang two monstrous hands that straightway lay Grasp on his brazen treasure and away ^ Bore It m triumph to a distant shelf; Ihen rushed the hot fit on-he flung himself in rage against the servants-wildly fuught- Unl.1 his mind some little space was brought To hear men s voices dwindling through the dim From faces that he knew ; these said of him Mich master work as this is, cannot be Ihat foolish Selim's;" sure were these that he Wrought nothing of the kind; they knew him well And all his work; he yesterday did tell He owned not such a thing; and as he strove Struggling to right himself, they dragged and drove Him forth, and nothing but a whirl was there Ut dust and pressure, anger, and despair- Blows rained upon him; one last cruel stroke Brought blood-he fell-and then his spirit broke' 23 24 THE PERFUME-HOLDER She who had been to one unhappy heart The lode-star of its being, sat apart In the zenana's curtained privacy, A married captive, never to be free. But o'er The Shadow-of-the-Sultan's-Hand Some time she ruled ; the heart she could command Of that fierce fighter in his pleasant mood : A second wife in sovereign solitude, All gave her homage, all her triumph graced. Even she, the first wife, whom she had displaced. The Shadow-of-the-Sultan's-Hand at first Was courteous and devoted, but he nursed Higher ambition than in flowers to bind His mood to service of one girlish mind However enchanting, for his heart was set On deeds of violence; he could ne'er forget The feud, the blood-lust that was his from birth. He was a bold, intrepid son of earth, A graceful tiger in a leash of silk. As mild and pleasant as the coco's milk Till call for action came; — a lion-hunt. In which he scorned the danger, chose the brunt, Or vision of booty and some vengeful raid Into Afghanistan, more often swayed The councils of his heart, than any charms He found within the circle of her arms. And she, poor lonely discontented dove. Brooded on this, and dreamed had she through love Been so far favored in her lot, to fall Unto that heart where she was all in all However lowly, howso'er distressed By circumstance, by poverty oppressed — Life had been happier even with such an one. Than that now passed with this proud monarch's son. She was unlike the frivolous, tranquil crew THE PERFUME-HOLDER Who chattered round about her; often grew Intolerable to her vivacious mind The still zenana— health and spirit pined. But came distress far greater when, one day, Returning from some distant, wide foray Into Afghanistan, her husband brought A captive home, who now held all his thought. The superseded wife grew languid, pale; Till, part by some new thought to countervail Her long depression, part, that she consult A famed astrologer, whose art occult In all that region was most noted, they Who lived about her counselled her one day She should a few leagues' distant journey take. The drear monotony of her life to break. Beyond the turquoise hills and level land That fringed the province with its shifting sand. Poor lonely star of one lone heart! the love Her soul still yearned for like that heaven above The Prankish women sought — she had not dreamed That it had crossed her; its pale radiance gleamed, A heavenly vision through her falling tears. Fairer as loomed the vista of the years! Bravely again she took life's burden up. Hope flowered once more ; she had not drained the cup Of bitter vintage to its turbid lees. She and her escort started as the breeze Of early evening swept the fragrant glades And waved the banners o'er long colonnades. Ruffled the citron blooms and filled the air With cool perfume and freshness everywhere; Bathed with its dews the earth and purged the sky; Soothed the hot valleys with its wandering sigh; Fluttered the folds of shawls and turbans loose And frolicked in the billowy white burnous; 25 26 THE PERFUME-HOLDER I W '■"le languid city fanned with healing breath- Ay, even awoke the pulse benumbed of death. Servants and slaves upon the camels laid The tents and baggage ; others were arrayed To take the journey, sitting on the packs Lashed either s'de or on the mounded bacb; And, as a guard, to rearward and before Some twenty warriors on white camels bore Lances or muskets, and each hump around Bright shawls and broidered saddle-cloths were bound. From out the gate the ordered camels passed; They left the hills behind— then travelled fast Across the waste, whose open length was soon O'er-lanterned by the lemon-colored moon. The guards from time to time their challenge sent To plodding footmen on their passage bent Unto the city; who when questioned said "We are but home-bound miners;" some they stayed, The last of these, some moments ; at demand Why they were journeying in that lonely land. These answered humbly, they had carried out Into the distant desert thereabout A corpse ; 'twas of a man who, raving mad, Had died in prison; this of what it had Of worth they'd stripped; lo, now but from their toil. With their sad recompense of wretched spoil. The captain forward turned his camel's head And told his lady what these men had said. Naught further marked their travel; all next day They camped ; at evening took again their way ; And when at length arose the second sun They left the desert, their long journey done; THE PERFUME-HOLDER And to the village straight their lady brought Where dwelt the famed astrologer she sought. The gifts bestowed, with courtesies exchanged, A visit for the lady was arranged To the mysterious man. His house was small And undistinguished ; but within the wall Was a rich room where ht , eceived his guest ; There hung a time-piece with quaint signs impressed; An astrolabe with Chaldic figures stood Which told of wandering stars each varying mood. Wrought in Egyptian land; a conjurer's crook Leaned on a table; in a crypt-like nook Lay yellow parchments piled. The languid wife Wistfully eyed the man of learned life ; A sage sedate, a form of mark and note In Iran, where the beggar's frowsy coat Clothes often king-like men ; his tall black cap And ample flowing robe of camlet nap Were of the finest, and his brow and eye Majestic; for through gazing on the sky And pondering deeply o'er its mystic lore He much of its sublime expression wore. Full to the waist, wide down the massive chest, His sable beard swept o'er his saffron vest. Lending grave dignity and benignant grace, Softening the em lines cf his thoughtful face There stands a proverb long in Eastern ken. That "no men should wear beards but Persian men." The sad-faced lady come to seek his aid. Took courag'i as his features she surveyed. Calm, courteous, wise, he seemed ; she told him all Was needful to the purpose; voiced the thrall And endless hunger of her heart, and, too. Briefly her history; for she saw he knew 27 I;!: a tri J; ■!( a8 THE PERFUME-HOLDER Much of the strivings of tried souls; yes, he Was deeply schooled in the philosophy And poetry of Iran and the East. He soothed her famished spirit with a feast Uf well-culled verses, wrought for counsel by Mrong hearts to comfort life's extremity Down from the words of Solomon the Wise To the star-gazer poet, who now lies In her own city in unchanging rest. The clods and burial stones across his breast. The words of counsel pas't, ere she her way Took thenc;, he told her he, the following day, The issue f , his searchings of the night Wou d send her She, too, watched the twinkling light Of sars, that through the heavens unswerving kept Their doomful path. Beneath them mortals slept As though no seeds of fate within them lay. Keepers of how many secrets they Of human lives, revealers of how few, Though their eternal witness fronts our view! Alas, they did not to her soul impart That one had called her "Star-of-Selim's-Heart." Next morn in scented silk the missive came- To the Most High and Honorable Dame Moon to the Shadow-of-the-Sultans-Hand Fairest of all the fair of Persian land! ' Ij'name of Allah whom the faithful call The Merciful, Victorious. Chief of All: The Stars. O Lady, speak the truth, tho' man Not always may their mystic answer scan ■ Thrxce have I read to-night the face of Heaven. And thrtce to me this answer hath been given These silent words of fate and mystery : m f' THE PERFUME-HOLDER 'A FLIGHT OF ravens!' n T J ^"^ " '■"' "''* thee, U Lady, to interpret them aright. And may they throw upon thy da,kness light nT/iri /<. Mj, heart; and may the peace Uf Allah, who alone gives souls increase. Byhownto Thee. This is the prayer devout Of htm. theunworthtest of thy servants: doubt iVo/ tie will send thee grace. nt H , , . Written by the hand Uf Hassan of the Astrolabe, to command." She, bearing these words wfth her, now began Her homeward journey, pondering; still ran Unnn r^ "'""^.""'^ ''"^' ^^' '"'"<' "^^ bent Lpon the answer of the stars, that went Ever before her like a vision blest, tiuiding her to her solace and her quest. It was the chill and silent time of night Before the rose-crowned, pearly-vestured Light Loops joyance round the world; mysterious hour When Azrael comes with all his awful power To loose the souls of men and women old l-rom their worn bodies, and in numbing fold The fluttering spirit wraps and bears away To realms of utter midnight or of day. The camel-train paced slowly; rose the dust As each broad foot into the sand was thrust. And fell agam fu.i quickly, beaten down By the damp air; a distant eastward frown Agamst the sky betokened hills; the sun Beyond the shade-land soon prepared to run His course; the watchful guards from time to time Turned in their saddles to behold him dimb 39 30 THE PERFUME-HOLDER The hill-tops; o'er the desert's lonely gray Paling for leagues beyond, the film of day Pressed a faint outline; an uneven spur, Dimly defined against the mist-like blur, Breaking the outline, showed them Naishapur. As the round sun flamed o'er the hills again. Startled by that or by the camel-train, A clamorous flight of birds upon one hand Trailed from some object on the distant sand. The lady, resting in uneasy sleep. Awoke as o'er her swished the bustling sweep Of wings, and from her litter watched them float, Ominous and black, against the heaven remote. New-lighted by the half-way risen sun. Which o'er the pallid sky his splendor spun. Flush to her mind, as from the written page. There rushed the words of the star-gazing sage, — "A flight of ravens;" straight she waved her hand And gave the captain of the train command She must at once be carried to the place Whence rose the birds of omen ; with ill grace He turned to do her will, for now would day The naked desert scourge with burning ray. The slow procession wheeled, the distance spanned,- And lo, a skeleton bleaching on the sand! ! : I "O fairest lady," cried the chief in tones Sore vext, "Let Allah hear me ; 'tis but bones Of some wayfarer, slain or gone astray Here in the desert; others for a prey Than these same birds have found him; doth abide With him no coin, nor weapon at his side." "In name of Allah, Merciful and Just, Some of }ou men dismount and straightway thrust 3> THE PERFUME-HOLDER Arnund him; search each bit of cloth and bone A.id see if aught about hiin may be known ' Unwillingly, and cursing the delay Among themselves, they slowly did obey They lifted with their spears each ragged clout, And with their muskets shoved the bones about. "Nothing, fair lady, nothing," cried the chief, Climbmg across his saddle with relief; Then set the train in motion, well content To quit their tarrying. Soon thereafter went Unto the litter one who lingered late. No word he said, but with ^ ,mile sedate Handed his lady a sere, tiny thing Of white and yellow bone. Round it a ring Or shred of brass, tight-twisted, bore along Each edge, at intervals, impression strong, Irregular, a little whorl, which she Caught at as from the man of mystery. She placed it in the hollow of her hand And gazed and gazed, till in the slender band Of brass she found the token— yes, the day That she on Selim's finger in her play Had twisted it! again the constant gaze Which searched her footsteps through the market ways- Again the dream, the hope, the flushed surprise That starred with love those dark and thoughtful eyes. To this, then, he had come! Ay, well, alas! She knew the tiny pattern on the brass. And all in tears she scanned it ; he had said, She now remembered— in his little shed ' He, poor dead Selim, her lone worshipper, The tool that made it, save on gift for her. Should not be used ; yes, he whose bon<-s now lie I I' ] X: i ■•!■■ 32 THE PERFUME-HOLDER Strewing the jand, beneath the pitiless sky, All save this one, this small ringed finger bone, Kelic of sacred love, hers, hers alone! The one cold token of the constant flame That burned within his breast. O hour of shame! Ihis dry white bone reproached her! Witness now Poor dumb starved heart the fervor of her vow! Witness her tears and kisses and her head Bent o'er this voiceless pleader for the dead. Laid now upon her soft grief-burdened breast. There, while that heart should beat with life, to rest. The lusty sun stared fiercely, free and high. When they had reached the city. The blue sky Shone dazzling clear, save where some fine-combed clouds Straggled across; as they were souls in shrouds Speeding to heaven ; or travellers single-file, Moving apart, as tho in fear of guile. Wrapping their parching bodies from the glare And dusty highway. The zenana's air Unto The Star-of-Selim'sHeart was v.ool And comforting, as, fresh from out the pool Of perfumed water on the rich divan She lay, and over her waved an Indian fan Held by a favorite maid. The silken door Opened, two little girls between them bore A shrouded present, which by high command. Her lord's, The Shadow-of-the-Sultan's-Hand, On her return be given her. Listlessly She loosed the first silk wrappings— paused— for she Saw surely 'twas some growth of royal art. Even such a love-work as some loyal heart Like Selim's might have pledged her. She unwound The silk with wakened care, in thought profound. Oh, miracle of genius proud and pure! He promised her such a gift ; alas ! how poor THE PERFUME-HOLDER The man who loved her „a.; .he had not cared For h.m or hi,-ah, heaven, had he been spared! he .m , own sel thi, wonder might have wrought- Sel>m, sweet self, had he not come to naught. It wronged, insulted him; for daily need Had bound that hand from such a lavish deed *a.nt murmurings were thronging in her ears; bhe watched ,t glimmering through her mist of tears- Seen mrdst them, the entrancing, matchless thing t/oomed mdistmct, gigantic, wavering. As her tears fell she wiped them fast away- Then seemg more clearly, something bade her lay Orasp on the brazen vessel, while her gaze Grew fixed, grew all excitement, all amaze; Ihen gamst her breast she strained it with a sob; And as her heart, rallying with mighty throb, bhoolc deep her being all her loosened hair Enshrined the perfume-holder like a prayer F!!.r~"jfj~''!T'^"''"' "" P™"' °' matchless love! Each scrolled and burnished strip of brass above Upon each ornamental fillet's round, The same fine-patterned tiny whorl was found" The same with which his finger, once, she bruised And fastened— from the die herself had used! Yes, Selim's gift had come to her— his love Had found her after death; ay, there above. Even in the distant realms of bliss, new cheer Must come to him; had she not grown more near Unto h.s spirit though his outcast bones Lay whitening on the desert's sands and stones- All save this finger token? But there— look! Graved on the brass his words, the open book Of Selim's love— the words he never said In life— his faithful message from the dead! 33 34 THE PERFUME-HOLDER "Dot'f of my job/, thou uihilr and wondroui dove. My Heaven ii with Ihee; nor did Allah's love Ever send Peri unio suffering larlh Fair as thou art, O lily of fra front birth! Star of love's sty, rise pure and dwell apart To sanctity the flouer-land of my heart. Behold the first fruits of my pledge to thee; Queen of my dreams, be merciful to me." That evening, from the spot the camel-train Had halted on when day' broke o'er the plain, Saw the same sun, soft-barred with roseate streaks, Dying away between the western peaks; And as he sank from view the low sweet breath Of twilight sighed above tile day-god's death; But swelled at night and through the star-lit space A requiem swayed across the desert's face; And as it wailed its dreary, weird refrain Along the hills and o'er the barren plain. Cast heavy handfuls of soft sand where lay A dead man's bones — and when the eye of day Searched for them, lo, the desert held its trust, Folded forever in its shroud of dust. And in the night that breeze with plaintive sigh Breathed through the lone'y latticed turret high That pinnacled a palace; wandering there. Entered a dim-lit chamber, strewing rare Spiced odors forth along the midnight air From a brass perfume-holder — such sweet breath As rises scarcely at a monarch's death. And in that silence a pale, tearful-eyed Woman inhaled the perfume — watched it glide THE PERFUME-HOLDER Towird the deiert; on her heaving breait One trembling hand she laid; beneath it presKd A ulken case, which hid a little bone And ihred of hammered brass . No more it known. 33 MAJOR POEMS Ir II! I HYMN TO THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY JYI AGNET of the exploring mind, t .. Joy of nature unconfined, Spirit of the Meal, rare Artist working everywhere. Posting on thy restless pinion "er thy imperial dominion, fainting all the turning year An enswathed planetsphere ; Lhild of Fancy and Delight, Joyous, e'er enchanting sprite,- Thou alone hast all completeness; Er, M- i c" " ?'"«* """^ sweetness; tI u"^ ^'""" '''1'' commission Thou hadst heavenly manumission, Ere grey wrinkled Time was young Jove with music tipped thy tongue. And so dowered thee with charms That he thrilled with love's alarms; All enamoured of thy face Straightway clasped thee in embrace And the keys of Heaven and Hell rieided to thy potent spell. Hebe was thy handmaid, she Taught thee grace and favor free; i,oId thee many a mystic story Of Olympus' olden glory. Ere the strife in Heaven began Or ere Earth's first eons ran. Lusty Bacchus owned thy sway; 39 40 HYMN TO THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY pi At thy feet his thyrsus lay; Other loves he heeded not, Ariadne was forgot, Turned thy votary and for thee Herded sheep in Arcady. Brawling Mars would pine and sigh For one glance of thy bright eye; He would lay his helmet down At thy slightest no J or frown; He would bind his flowing locks With the blue fond-lovers phlox. But to lend some 'passing grace To his harsh forbidding face. He would call thee "dear" and "sweet," Sitting suppliant at thy feet. Thou couldst thrill his heart with fear For thy distaff claimdst his spear; Made thy mirror of his shield, Once the torment of the field. And his blood-dewed laurel bough Rested on thy mocking brow. Thou has quaffed the mou. "ain lymphs Oft amidst Diana's nymphs W^en the rosy fingered Dawn Hath the day bolts fairly drawn For the safforn vestured East, Ushering Nature's great high priest, V'/hen he comes in golden state Thru his azure arched gate. Oft in some sequestered nook. Gazing idly on a brook. Thee the rustic Pan hath seen Full length on a bank of green. Thy blown robes and floating hair Oft thru fields and uplands fair He would glimpse as oa thy way ii HYMN TO THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY Thou wouldst with the shadows play, And his silent pipe would slip From his curvet', half-smiling lip. He would leave the charmed flocb Clipping still their verdured rocks, Follow thee thru forest Janes Down which drifted sunshine strains In a mist of filtered light Thru the dense umbrageous night To the shy nymph's bathing place, — Where the caverned rocks embrace One of Nature's hidden nooks; Where the mild midsummer broob Loiter, loth to leave, and hide Neath the banb their purling tide. And the curtaining waters fall Foaming o'er the moss-hung wall. Still his soul within him burned, — When the leaves were backward turned Of the poplars tall and fair, Knew that t' iu weit passing there, Caught the iairy fantasy Of thy fluttering drapery; And howe'er he still pursued. And howe'er thy favor wooed. Still thy laughter rippled back All along thy shining track; Still thy fairness lured him on Till he some slight favor won; Flower or love wreath from thy hair. Or a kiss thrown on the air. Or a glance of roguish guile. Or a courtesy or a smile. Lovely sprite, ethereal elf, Thou art Concord's second self. 41 iIrL: 42 HYMN TO THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY Thou art Melody's mateless voice, Thou art Nature's dateless choice, Thou art Purity's inner glow, Thou art Culture's outward show; Thou appearest to the seer Where no earth-born forms are near, And thou breathest upon his thought Till it glories, star-enwrought, Thru the unmeasured fields of space To the heavens high dwelling-place, Till unnumbered Spheres it sees Hung in crystal galaxies. Thou, queen mother of the Loves, In thy pearl car drawn by doves, Rulest o'er the human heart With an ever alluring art; Never granting full fruition To its ideal or ambition; Still compelling it to turn Toward a lovelier something, turn On the axis of its thought. Seeking that s'ill vainly sought, Avatar of blissful life, Uncontaminate of strife. All unconscious of thy wile. Careless youth, thou dost beguile; Following up thy conquest won Each new-born, diurnal sun. Till thou flash on him surprise Thru some sweet-faced maiden's eyes; With intoxicating kisses Luring him to a heaven of blisses. To the Elysian Fields of love. Where the skies are gold above; I HYMN TO THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY Where the flowerets never fade; Where no upas casts its shade 'Gainst the sun-down tinted sky; Where the dew is never dry On the petals of the rose; Where in chiming silver flows The brook, unbound by wintry frost, And by dog-star drouths uncrossed; Where the perfume laden breeze Wafted from the Hesperides Blends its murmuring with the bees;— There his nightly dreams are fair As the soft blue-violet air. Till with golden locks outspread Titan lifts his morning head And night's minions flee away From the victor crowned Day. But a fuller bliss hath grown Than these earth-born forms have known ; Thou hast still a nobler part, Mistress of the poet's heart! He shall limn thee as thou dost stand Fresh and fair from God's own hand, And the fadeless aureole spread Of rapt sainthood round thy head; He, thy champion, aye hath worn Thy bright favors, proudly torn Thru the hard won, fateful day, Trophies from the field away. He hath been thy high-priest, he Hath adorned, enfranchised thee. And hath offered up his heart On the fire wave of his art; He will still contented dwell Thou sole inmate of the cell 43 m 44 HYMN TO THE SPIRIT OF BEAUTY Of his dream life, and hath borne Oft for thee the crow of scorn. As I too have borne for thee Scorn and bitter mockery; As thou, too, hast dwelt apart In the fastness of my heart. And hast whispered to mine ear Words which none beside may hear. Mistress of my earliest choice Of the sylphlike form and voice. O'er me still thy, glamor throw, — Spirit, all to thee I owel i ill I I ASTROPHEL (/» mtmorg of Bmjamin Lambord, ditd J%nt, lots) ¥ HAVE loved life— I have !oved life too well! A For sorrow dies not, yearning will not cease; I have loved life, the life of Astrophel, Of Astrophel, who lieth now at peace; Peace from world care and wasting ills increase; Free nom Earth's galling ill requited toil; One with the thousand stars of artist Greece ; Reprieved from niggard Fortune's cumbering moil. And chill despondent doubts that did his genius foil. I scarce can sense he has renounced our life;— Spring lingers with her trophies; birds and trees And bourgeoning flowers are with earth-rapture rife, Their sentient perfumes load the rhythmed breeze! My heart should hold in tune with all of these; It should with that warm ravishment accord; Why drain this bitter potion to the lees While he triumphant stands with spirits adored. Elect of earth and Heaven who waiteth on the Lord ? Philosophy, wise mentor, grant me balm! Alas, I gain small comfort from your book; I seem as life shows round me, careless, calm; I would not aught should on my sorrow look. Even by my dearest friends I am mistook; Something has gone from day I know not where; And yet the sunbeam flickers on the brook; 45 ir^ I ft ir <* ASTROPHEL Muiic and happy voices thrill the air, And lummer dawns in pride and life blooms lush and fair. Why here have chosen, Death? there are enough Of passing souls to glut thy greedy hand; Blood streams in torrents, rivers, and the stuff Of carnage reeks to Heaven from every land; On every side thy sable plumes are fanned; The beautiful, the gifted, brave go down Daily to that mysterious, shadowed strand That lies beyond the country-side and town ; That hides so much of love, dream, promise, hope, renown. X They all are thine— that press of stagnant souls Alien to claim on Heaven; knaves, dolts and fools Cumbermg the earth; blind, burrowing money moles; Rakes hngering on their late repentance stools; There fails no plethora of men whose rules Of life outbrave the tiger and the pike; Untamed by pity and untaught by schools Of love or duty; each and all alike Preying on weakened life and seeking where to strike. Then to choose him— the purity of whose life Was rainbowed, Ariel rescued from the pine; Whose spirit soared above this world of strife Even as a falcon loosened from its line; Who quaffed all beauty as a youth drains wine; Thirsted for knowledge as a saint for God; Whose soul was keyed to harmonies divine. Climbing those minstrel marches few have trod. Plucking rare flowers of song from that Olympian sod. I mourn for Astrophel— ah, none is left To take his place, the Muse's darling son I ASTROPHEL 47 Y« h 'h* « "u"f """- '"* """h' '»^' done- Nor truckled to . era., material time; lnZ.^J° '"'°""» j«"'«"'«l heieht, had won In the glad workday of his youthful prime :- Now naught remains except to grace hi. cor« with rhyme. '^"cio,V°rf '»^'^,'""' ""Id with practiced pen Clothe balanced thought in lucid shining phra^- The mounts of song were captured in his ken From Palestrina to these fuU-sounding day,; While h.s own lyre was strung to magic lays buch as lend wmgs to man; like him who smote Sublime the storied Lied, his genius sways The variant turns of the vibrating note, Till thru the ethereal field those heaven-tuned echoes float. And they are of the heritage of man's soul; rtrt of the temple structure of that art Which oer unnamed emotion takes control, Ihe spirit sailing on without a chart- He held no claim or dealing with the'mart Ihat over lesser natures makes demand; Love, Pathos, Aspiration, played their part; Th(»e proud familiars came at his command. Which he controlled with strenuous soul and plastic hand. He lived for art— for more he lived to me I scarce can think that he has passed beyond; Ihe genia tone the voiced thought high and free, ITie aeolian life of which all hearts were fond The gentle presence, drew me with a bond' lime cannot alter, circumstance replace; That natural dignity his soul had donned ♦■ ASTROPHEL Stood lightened by iti loveline« and r«ce. With Moxart , winning mile and clean cut cuneo face. ^"w II°r '."f '"'"-''• «»"« """ 'he door Th. r.K V'u '"'"'',"«> '»~k •""<«* hi. arm; The hthe. light tread on the unthinking floor, The room all brightened.-bre.thing forth hi, charm; He Kerned a creature no ill thing could harm; ao kind, so courteous, loving, debonaire; I heard no threatening of that dire alarm Ihat could dissolve sud, sweetnew into air; No thought but Heaven to me would still that largesse spare. And yet-and yet-who knows, ah me, who knowsl Jt must be as the soldier falls to-day, Striking for country, home,— whose life blood flows Across the front of his unconscious day — Spurning rich life that Freedom shall make way.- S>o has he fought his fight and held his stand On art, his art, which shall at last bear sway; And that transcendent song that he had planned hurv.ve, a torso priced, wrought by a master's hand. If so, no traffic hold with vain regret; Let us cheer Sorrow from our doors; stiU burn The incense of our love, and proudly set Remembrance high with chant and flowering urn; He left his heart behind him, let us turn To those brave melodies struck for after time,— The deer has not more passion for the fern Than that fine gallant soul for the sublime; Now, now, perchance, enthralled by some celestial chime. Seek him not then, O Kin-folk, in the gravel That which you wept escaped, it is not there; ASTROPHEL ^ ^"*u-'il" ?"«• /' '• •"'• "•"««« '>'«ve. In that hit immort.lity shinn fair; Ihat i> h« aureole, 'ti, hi, heavenly crown; D«,h ,1," 1' "^\*° 'y"" "^^'"^ Time .hdl ,p„e; D^th threat, not that, howe'er on all he frown; Abuhed before a claim hi, power may not put down. **Th '*'."' '•'■'•.""•'.bound-but the end i. peace. The cloud. di,per.e. the .hower, of grief are pa,t • The tear,, the .igh.. the vain regret, .hall ceaJJ ' The trea.ured memorie, ,hine. we hold them fa,f Doubt and despondency behind are cast; ' For Ajtrophel inhabiteth hi, ,tar. The atar of immortality; at last The beam breab o'er u, from that realm afar. Whic^hjate nor Death may rfiock. nor Time .^r Cu.,om r ODE TO SPRING TJ LITHE Flora, goddess of the opening year, A-» Queen of the birth of love and warm desire Youngest of sovereigns of this variant sphere, Thou who had'st Pan for brother, Jove for sire Fairest earth patron pi the heavenly choir. Blest harbinger of plenty and increase. Bright incense-bringer, vestal of the fire. Priestess of life and joyance, beauty, peace. Bearing within thy robes the balm for cares surcease;— Thou, the adored of Earth, boon Nature's hope; Joy of the winter prisoned and winter marred •' Who settest all hearts aflame, giv'st prescience scope, Wings to the venturous spirit, to the bard His hippogriff of "Fancy; guide and guard Of every live thing that exalts thy reign ; Urging thy forest children, stripped and scarred, ' lo cloak their naked limbs with leaves again; Coaxing Earth's timid flowers to smile o'er hill and plain ;- Mother of all winged things, what time the brooks Unloose themselves from Winter's hampering chain; fathering in windy pines the clamorous roob. And scattering balms and scents o'er hill and plain; Who dost the budding emerald life sustain To Its full flower in Summer's lordly pride, And o'er their tender lives thy tents maintain Of clouds and rains, and spreadest far and wide Thy spangled web of dews across the country-side;— SO ' ODE TO SPRING j, Thou who athwart the winter lairs; Who, like the Virgin Mother still dost stand Agent of Resurrection, Queen of Prayers-— List him who greets thy reign and all thy 'bounty shares! Hearken to him who lov?d thee while a boy, Ay, with intensest passion, and who keeps Thememories ever of that childhood joy Thru manhood's cares, decline, and barren deeps; Yea, even to-day his spirit sings and leaps 1 o view thy breath awakening the trees; To hear thy forces mustering, as sweeps TTiy airy chariot o'er the woods and leas. With all the South in train and murmuring down the breeze. Long has the Mother waited— deep, close down Within her breast she hides her children frail- Above their sentient germs she spreads her gown Of leaves to fence them from the frost and gale The patient Fosterer knows thou wilt not fail- bhe wards with care her weaklings all from scath; Let Winter do his worst, she will not quail Although he lash her in his churlish wrath And o'er her prostrate pride urge his unpitying path. Oh, how her heart rejoices when thy horn Is wound by boisterous March across the hills. While wavering Winter, baffled and outworn. Withdraws from his wide theatre of ills; While all his ensigns, hanging from the sills, i LS^ S3 ODE TO SPRING Are by thy breath blown forth in clouds and rain To speed thy triumph, to feed full the rilb Which, now enfranchised, leap down hill and plain And shout their joyous news to river, lake, and main. Within the star-pranked palace of the skies. The young moon on thy arm, thou lov'st to rest, While the warm South- Wind on thy mandate flies Urging thy rule to North and East and West ; While Winter's legions, smitten and sorely pressed. Shriek through each mountain pass in forced retreat; While from Earth's late mute, desolated breast Rise sounds of life and joy and odors sweet. Distilled by Heaven's own dew and borne by zephyrs' feet. Sweet April, child of sunshine and of tears. Attends thee with her violets; jocund May C>mes ever smiling through the cycled years, Her daisies and her hawthorn flowers to lay Upon thine altar; regal June, alway Garlands thy brow with roses till thy child, Gay, wanton Summer, flaunts her sumptuous way O'er hill and holt, o'er every field and wild. And vainly would outcharm the hearts by thee beguiled. il: Fair, faithful harbinger of fruitful life, What were this Earth deprived thee? What were noon Without the dawning? Winter's toil and strife How borne without the promise of thy boon? Thy clouds, thy rains, thy blooms, the bubbling rune Of broob, the diapason of the trees. The hum of insect life, the varied tune Of birds, the buzzing of the questing bees, And all the pageantry of life thou lead'st across the leas. ODE TO SPRING 53 And he whose soul was to thy flowers allied, Sweet minstrel, with thy promise in his heart; In his own Spring, in his rapt dream and pride Of genius struclc by Death's untimely dart; Lover of books and beauty and that art To which he gave his best, »iow lieth low. Even as thyself wilt lie— the tears that start Are for no vulgar earth ; no pomp or show Of kings might honor him whose worth I once did know. 'Twere fitting that his dream should close with thine, Like Keats's, and the fevered heart which yearned To sound the depths of thr.; emotioned sea Of rhythm, that surging thru his spirit burned, — Or when, like Orpheus, his fancy turned To magic measures, charming old and young. Giving in plenteous store the love he earned Back- to those friends for whose delight he sung, — Even now cut down when Fame had her first chaplet flung. Let me, too, pass as he did, in thy time; My own Spring long has withered, and that fame Which comes of work well wrought, the wreath sublime Of Poesy, has never crowned my name. Yet would I pass like him, devoid of blame, Of selfish, sordid passion. Goddess, hear — Keep thou my heart like thine! let me still claim The love and joyance of the opening year ; Thy dauntless strife 'gainst Time, thy soul's unfailing cheer I Yet, Goddess, what are passing lives to thee! Mother and nurse of every living thing. Thy endless chain of years, thy agency Remains the same, tho all man's pride takes wing; Ever thou buildest for the garnering; I 54 ODE TO SPRING Thy rains, thy dewc, thy beams impartial fal) ; Ay, every year thy birds of promise sing To usher in the Summer's carnival; Love, Life, Hope, Liberty enswathing all. ODE TO AUTUMN DAUGHTER of Ceres, round whose wain-like car ^ Vme-wreathed nymphs and goat-hoofed satyrs d^e ■ men down th. twilight deeps the Evening St7r ' Casts her pale gl.mmer o'er thy realm's expanse- Or when the Harvest Moon with mellow E Is hung thy lantern in the fields of air ; Or when the cohorts of the Morn advance Warry helm. Like to Armadas whelm'd in ocean surge, Vast forests sank 'neath seas of leaguering ice; Pushing down tropic vales the greening verge, Thy snows frothed o'er earth's fruitage, corn and rice; No common tribute could such lust suffice; ODE TO WINTER 6i The rocb were ground to dust, the mountain fines Were channelled peak to baie; one awful price ftarth paid thee— an enormity of paint, As crept thy torturing frost through her fire-nurtured veins. How then lived man?-though fenced with frozen mail I he soil refused him sustenance, yet his hand Drew safety from the maelstrom of thy gale; On Earth's last cooling round he took his stand; He found in caves a refuge; armed with brand Of wood or stone, he dauntless faced and slew The earth-shaking mastodon; to his command He trained the fleet-foot reindeer and o'erthrew The huge cave-bear that even thy scourge could not subdue. Thus age still rolled on age,— then through dun skies The buckler'd Sun sprang armed in aureate might; His flashing javelins gained the desperate prize; Back to the Poles thy chariots wheeled in flight; There, and upon the hoariest mountains' height, Thine outposts o'er the world — eternal sway Thou boldest with brawn hand and ancient right, Paviboned vast with glaciers, icebergs gray. Thronged round with winds thy best drives world-wide day by day. Ay, when the modem Csesar's fateH power Rose black with portent twixt th. earth and sun, Enshrouding continents, in his amplest hour Thou met'st him, breath'dst against him, and undone He fled, disarmed, dismayed; his empire won Through blood and flame lay prostrate; ne'er again, Answering thy voice, forth roared the Gallic gun; Thy winds still boast those vaunting myriads slain, Sepulchred 'neath thy snows from Moscow to the Seine. 63 ODE TO WINTER I t : i ~Uk ThiM thy revenge growi rooted, ttill mote hi^ Around the Poles thou re«r'« thy cryitil waU; MiU, age on ige, repulud, compelled to «y, Thy cohorts sweep to their wide cmiivil; Sull, one by one, the warm, bright barrien fall; renistent swge, insidious attack. Spread slowly, surely thy perennial thrall, Winnmg by piecemeal thy dominion back, TiU Time treads out his torch, Death diet and all is wrack. Ay when on cool, clear eves, athwart the dome Flare white thy torchks, and the maiden moon is hooped with silver, 'tis thy coming home O Conqueror I weie our earthly ears in tune Well might we hear thy minstrels' triumph rune Filtering its cadence through the dusky sl^; For be it gray December or green June, Somewhere victorious thy dark standards «y, Somewhere the Sun hath failed, somewhere hu subjects die. I Yet, O proud Winter, despot though thou art, I And unreprieving thy imperious will, Thy sumptuous grace reveals a royal heart, What time thou smil'st the earth is beauteous still; Thou deck'st with pearl and ermine tree and hUl, And rob'st with light-wreathed down the naked vales, Bright pendants hang'st to archway, eave, and sill, While blush fair cheeb beneath thy bussing gales As at the Sun's first kiss are tinged the wind-filled sails. And Nature, vanquished, triumphs, too, throu^ thee. By thee is her progressive year made sure; But for her harsh arrest, how many a tree , And flowering shrub would bloom not nor endure; ^ Safe in their roots the thrifty saps procure ODE TO WINTER 63 Uo^Th ./"" ^^""' '"'•'^ »" •«' rf«ininB lure. ,h. So t,"""'"'""' '"""^ •^'"« '•"^'"« trough Thou, to. ,a UrH oi ,e -I^-jocund thou For .hV '^''' '^r'*' ■" ^' •■'ou. ChriMnw. time; For ,h, ,,«,,, h.lly ...,,., ,Hy rugged brow, AnJ M,nh ,... ...„« ,.;.p round thy beard of rime. 1 l«n the .:,' ...nre clume-born. when in her prime ' WhTht .h't ? ' "™',".^ *"" *• "«" »' Night, AndSolt ''--;'.^ '^P^J from mwy . «„«„er diS And from Iro, .e, Autu.nn's horn, with cryttd bright And lordly ..Iver crowned, Jiines in the hewth-fire light. ^"v "!5 *,? *'''"""• O ^*'"«'' joy* robuit, " Varied, illuitnou.,— mirthful, too, thy sway;- If earth yield, naught for thee, not thine the diut. 1 he taint defiling the mUd seaMn'a day Thme it the sUvery trilling of the sleigh. The steel-shod skater's zest, the daring slide, I The schoolboys snowball battle, blithe«)me play) Where er thou reign'st free flows the festal tide, 1 111 to one bhthe «ccord thou bind'st the harvest side. E'en when thou comest in thunders and in glooms, tl^ike Attila, bursting on corrupted Rome) • Blustering above thy three fair rivals' tombs, ' Even then thou furtherest the pure joys of home; Beneath peaked cottage roof, arched palace dome. Hew glide m fireside cheer thy riotous hours I The gniial game, the wise or witty tome. Beguile the heart as in the month of flowers Mahng new Edens bloom amongst thy snows and showers. 64 ODE TO WINTER i- ^ If And she, my mother land, Queen of the North, Heir to the Viking heart, the Briton fame; I Midst the sea-bridlers youngest, yet the fourth. Unfurling round three ocean shores her claim; Binding about her brows the Maple flame; Holding from thee the new North World in fee; Unsullied by the blood-drenched Afric shame; Resourceful as the circumambient sea ; ^ Firm as her granite hills, staunch as her bannered tree,— She gains from thee the deep-blue of her skies; She breeds by thee hen sons of stalwart mould ; She breathes thru thee a faith that never dies; I She draws her chasteness from thy storms and cold ; I Along her future blessings manifold \ Impend, if to herself she hold but true; \ May she, like thee, still dwell unbribed and bold, \ And bear her steps stiU upward, while the dew Of Peace shall pearl her path and Honor's star lead true. Nor comes the forceful brain, the tireless hand From the enervate realms beneath the Line; There, flower-enchained, the soul can ne'er expand. Divorced from care, it sinb in sloth supine ; The voice that fathers pregnant thought is thine; The heroic virtues all are nursed by thee; Thy tones to man are prophecy, like wine Is thy keen, urgent spirit; like the sea Thy winds upbear his soul, thy breath is Liberty! Thy breath is Empire, — from fierce frost and storm The lion-loined, the bane of Romans, came; No power on earth could thwart them, swarm on swarm. They purged the world with massacre and flame; Before the blast of Thor's and Odin's name. ODE TO WINTER 65 The sensual southern gods abhorred their shrines- There C,v.l.zation grows, broad-basid. ol oZ'ei line,. ^Robtd o'i'Vh""''' •"«'"--'P'«- and time All ««nin "■ '*'"**--^«ll """n's tireless brain, S M " "^" «™"e-»™ed vassal train; StJl surer mastery o'er them doth obtain; UV.'Z'tr,^""^:. *°- "•^»"'0- powers, Toil for h,m through life's waking, sleeping hours And cro^wn T,me's centuried marc^ withUnt gi-ns, and Y« ""'^"^ ^-""^ to go; Thus,^^starved. benumbed, outworn, he foL;, Hope and Yet there he ^enetrates-even to that place Most private to thy rule his march hath gone- Z!" t CT*"'"^ '""" °f 'hy face, ' Where Night her veil a hundred days has drawn - Favored by fortune, yet of chance the pawn ' His daring foot is set upon thy throne; Lo, there he stands, his face turned to the dawn- To hunger, tod and cold unmoved as stone, ' So that h>s unmatched pride may claim thy realm hi, own. 66 ODE TO WINTER Yet he, even he, were but for thee a chUd, Passing in dreamless sloth Ufe's choicest year; Driven by vague impulse, passions rude and wild, He drew no benison from the purer sphere; — He breathed no air of truth ; no limpid tear Of feeling made the flowers of pity start; Beheld no beauty; all untuned his ear To music of the birds; his own crude heart Was to itself a fear, yet conscience owned no smart. His craft was that of beasts; — to hunt, waylay His food and dig rou^h shelter from the storm; — He praised no God; the body's lusts, the fray Nursed the chief arts that could his mind inform; He knew few social virtues; like a swarm Of insects grew man's congregated dust, Without coherence, amity, or form; From brutish birth to brutal death a rust Clave to his darkened soul, an all-corroding crust. Thou didst arouse him. Father of the North ! Thou nerved'st his heart-strings in the great Ice Age; Drew'st tense his listless sinews, goad'st him forth At first, for naught but rapinr, war to wage On palsied, blighted races; now the sage Giuncils of Time have trained his hand to peace; The victories he now writes on History's page Yield grander Iliads; all the art of Greece Revived, refined, and grasped the hundredth Golden Fleece. Therefore, reign thou, most honored I for thy worth Doth far thy surliest vassals' wraths outweigh; For whilst thy white confusions blanch the earth Thou lay'st foundations for an ampler day, — Thou sowest to richer futures; still life's May ODE TO WINTER B1«WB with the foresights thou hat Uught to mar- For by thy rigor forced to war for ,^y ""*"' And bu.lds a deathle« fa«e in one brief Jrtd sp.nI 4 I DIANA AND ENDYMION ENDYMION had wandered all day long Within the embrasured shadow of the woods, Lured by a dream of loveliness and hope And joyance, such as comes but once to spirits Of earth, and seldom to, the gods above. He hungered not, for the warm pulse of youth Fluttered his eyelids, b^at about his brain With visions blissful, rapt; for all his soul Vibrated, pinioned by the breath of June, Blown thru the cedarn alleys, and the burden Of swaying pine-tops melted thru his mood, Like incense midst a pure impassioned prayer. Till the deep diapason of the boughs Rhythmed the pulse of languorous delight With wordless chords of song. He came at eve Upon the woodland fringe, when camping Day Had set his crimson standard in the West, And driven his golden-maned steeds a-fteld For pasture ere the morrow; o'er the heath The opposing gradual shades of evening fell In folds like wings of sleep, and the mild dews Of Latraos, steeped in odors, filtered down Thru the dim breathless air and touched his brow With balm-anointing coolness;— o'er the vales Faintly the low of home-returning kine Rose with a hollow murmur, like the pipe Of Pan himself, and swathed the pulseless eve With a soft film of sound;— the purple shades Deepened to bluish jet, and one by one : , j DIANA AND ENDYMION 6q The sentinels of Heaven in glittering arms Moved midst the tented night, to each his stand, And panoplied with light the involved skies And the still, breathing ejith; — nor yet the Mom Had journeyed forth, but in her house of clouds Lingered awhile, as loth to shame the stars With her full aureate beam. Endymion drew His leopard skin around his graceful loins And leaned against a tree whose blossoms pale Broke foam-like o'er his head, and breathed their love Into the silent night; — the languid eve Pressed its nepenthe deep within his sou), Soothing with cool caress; his eyelids fell And his breast heaved with weariness; all cloyed With drowsy sweets he sank upon the sward, Arm-pillowed, dreamless in the pale starlight. But soon the curved moon from her cloud sphere Outbroke and turned her calm and tender gaze Upon the limp form of the Arcadian youth, Bathing with lucent glow his olive face And russet burnished limbs; — her nether horn Hung like an argent sickle, and from its tip A silvery gleam fell o'er the dusk-bound earth. Banding the height with lustre to the feet Of slumber-wrapped Endymion; — down its coil A radiant goddess slipped with arms outspread, White as the drift of Heaven; on her arched brow The moon had fixed her image, and her breast Shone brighter than Orion's belt with gems, That burned the dusk to splendor; at her back A sheaf of silver arrows crossed a bo\' , The red hart's lordly tine; in her right hand She bore an ash-tree javelin tipped with steel, Wliich sooty Vulcan tempered diamond hard On Lemnos long agone; her beach-brown hair TO DIANA AND ENDYMION Was coiled, save one long curl that 'gainst her throat. Her throat of matchlen alabaster, swirled. Clung, as she dawned on Earth and to the side Of the still youth with printless tread she drew. The splendor of her beauty waked the birds And tuned the slender life amidst the grass To tenfold chorus, as with buskined feet. Brushing the harebell blossoms, her proud lips Curved to a smile of wonder and delight, She drank the charm of the transcendent youth. She stooped, then paused, a goddess bashful grown; She paused, then stooped; her face with blushes flamed That turned the flomrs to rose; she beat lier down And lightly touched his lips, then thra his hair Of clustering hyacinth she amorous sawpt The glory of her hand. He waked not yet. Although his heart was stirred with dreams ^vine, With beatific visions, as the chrism Of more than mortal love cnswathed his sool. Then as the sleeper stirred she hovered there Close to his face and breathed bis smothered si^ Of warmth-fed passion, as the youthful blood Coursed nimbly thru the alleys of his brain And fed voluptuously the uncharted mind With rapt, aspiring dream. She smiled, she sighed; Her breast with longing heaved, counting the cost, — The commune of the gods, the praise of men, Worship of virgins, her Ephesian rfirine. And all the glories of her name and state. Fate held the golden scales — a mortal love Against a heavenly crown; a span of bliss Against an immortality of cold And splendid ponder ; then again she gazed Upon the sleeping youth; till yearning swayed Her pubing soul, fsr thrusting back her vow, r? DIANA AND ENDYMION Of h^™. ' " '"'T'''"' "'"' *« «""'"0" garb Uf humin uses and the ways of men. cl^lli^*' ^'"'■^' """'"« broke ^/tH^ "f "r ''" '""hes of the East; And look.ng forth she marked a «arlet ,ha Of sunx.se break upon the throned crest Uf far Olympus, canopied with clouds, 1 he honH: of pre«:ience and power where dwell The starry gods who guide the fates of men- Then turned and still with backward-looki^ eyes She floated forth across the Latmian height^^ ' And burned a r.val splendor 'gainst the dawn Above the pathless and unstable sea 71 ',>^'' , DEFORMED LEAVE wide the window— let the new-born Spring Enfold me ere I die with her warm breath I Die, did I say? I but cast o£E this thing Hate calk its body. |Claim thy tribute, Death! Men have belied thy terrors; thou'rt to me Deliverer; come, proud king, and make me (r«el Yes, I thy lover, Death, have wooed thee fcng, For Life hath crossed me with its foulest spite; Life hath debased me, tricked me, turned me wrong; Set me a mock in EarthS and Heaven's sight. Life? I have never lived! In this brief span I but have shared his agony wMi man. Nwight else? Ah, yes, these flowere! Theit beauty fills My soul with ravishment, whos^ hoiie is proof Against this loathM flesh, these wasting ills; God gave me love — it is my sole behoof: I love the flowers! I love this sweet s^ng day, And you, dear friend, you I will love for aye! No coldness froze me in yow steadfast eye; Your heart was always to compassion true; You only did not curse me, pass me by; Alone of all mankind I have but you; I have been twice redeemed; nu once sufficed For me, you are my nearer, second Christ! 72 DEFORMED Yei, hell wai mine, an earthly hell of ihune; The vilett outcasts drove me from their (ight; Ihea scorn and hatred seared me like a flame; Women and babes fled from me in aflfright; Never since matter germed, since earth was green, Was such a vile misshapen monster seen! Yet I was born with human mind and heart;— Ah, why should God have left this mark on me I Yej I can wee|>— look how the tear-drops start As limpid as from eyes of infancy! The temple ways are foul, but its pure shrine Is silver and holds consecrated wine. "Tis said in His own image God made man, But only sin's foul shape was shown in me; some Wickedness, first bom when time began, Resisting goodness and regeneracy. Heaped high its growing horrors on my head, And for God's beauty fiend-form gave instead. I walked the earth an alien! even the birds Twitted me with deformity— the broad sun n^ « ""y plight— day stared at me— men's word* Flicked at me serpent-like— their eyes to shun Dwelt on me still detesting— God and man And pitiless nature laid me under ban. Yet have I read of pure and tender joys; •A^ covertly, like Satan upon Eve, ■neged by all the yearning life annoys, I gazed at beauty, still constrained to weave Among sad thoughts the unavaUing tears Of hopeless, honssfess, loveles, Wighttd yxars. IS 74 DEFORMED Afiection, which hath fottered every life, Spurned me and changed her iweet breut-mak to gaU: The whole world', hate feU o'er me; all iu .trife, „,W" now to break my ipirit. Sad u Saul When Itrael'. heart turned from him, I began To live, to grow, in soul, at least, a man. k A curse far heavier than the curse of Cain, Or him, who cries "unclean!" fell on my'brow; I heard the angels o'er my plight complain, ,„L™"""' ™ fiendish shapes did mop and mow; While leering faces cast a 'ghostly spell Across the path that lured mc down to hell. They sold me like a chattel, hissed and jeered ; They thrust me forth before the vulgar crowd; Their laughter tortured me; my soul was seared' By their low horror; and my spirit bowed Almost to breaking 'neath that cross of scorn To which my human heritage was born. Even the frightful freafa I dwelt among, Avoided contact, shuddered, turned away. Or cursed me; hourly by their insults stung I cursed myself and cursed the light of day. And as the thing I called my head I bent, I felt the fearful laughter thrill the tent. And then the barker with a fiendish leer. Stood up and poured the vitriol of his tongue Around me, raising in their throats a jeer, Which like the flame of Tartarus scorched and stung; Till all the earth was torment, and I trod The bitter wine-press of the wrath of God. DEFORMED Then in ■ maze I uw you mount the boards ; I watched the anger quiver in your eye; Like to the money-changers whipped with cords, From your just rage I watched the barker gy; Next with your Christ-like arm you cleared a space, Among the throng, and with me left the place. Then to my hideous grave of life there came One ray of comfort, first of all my days; One heavenly word of kindness in His Name, Who taught us Love ; a word beyond ail praise ; That word was brother^-your hand sought for mine. You bathed my heart with sympathy divine. I looked — but in your eyes I failed to see Aversion, lurking like a coiled snake; The balm of pitying cheer was there for me; The angel, Hope, in your blessed accents spake; These books, these pictures, flowers, are all from you, Oh, rarer heart than woman's, kind and true! Yes, you have earned the love I had bestowed Upon some woman in life's happier state; The love to unborn children I have owed. The love that in all hearts outlasteth fate; On every path of life a spring of God, Waiting the stroke of Faith's divining rod. 75 Here in this chamber, dosed from eyes of men, I have worn out the remnant of my years In peace if not in happiness; and when This lies in death, I will rise midst my peers, The spirits gone before; I then must be In the new body — oh, what ecstasy 1 MiaracorY >esoiution test chait (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) d ■/^PPUED IM/IGE Ine S 1653 Eos) Main Street •^ Rochestei-, New York 14609 USA = (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone Sg (715) 286- 5989 -Fax 76 DEFORMED Yes, Death and I are friends! I never knew Lifes dread of him, and now my sole reeret Is leavmg you, dear friend, for in that new And better world there will not one be met Except It be Christ's self, to whom this heart Will yearn as then for yours-but here we parti °«r n;"™ your hand! ah, friend, the love I bear, Would that It might ennoble this vile form; Ihen might you see my soul, its visage fair Kambowed from out this passing cloud and storm. Irradiating Life. Ah, Beauty, Love, I shall behold you perfect there above! The unclothed beauty of die soul that grows bublimer as the effluence of that life Which is the sun indeed! which ever flows Across the warring clouds of human strife, And gendermg -^i the glory of the years Breaks mto starry splendor on the spheres. The beauty, strength and symmetry here sighed In vain for, as I sighed for that of flesh; Ihe manhood purged by suffering, glorified In the new larger life we live afresh- The favor of God's smile, the love of Christ- BROTHER-'twas His the word; dear friend-the TRysxl THE EVER-GROWING TRUTH (^ Parable) A SEED of truth, now far renowned, -^ *• A poet in his garden found ; Yet whence it came or how it grew Or what its worth he scarcely knew; He planted it; with tender thought, The germ was to unfolding brought. He nourished it with deftest skill And placed it on his window sill; A world of patient care, in sooth. He lavished on that new-born Truth. Enamored of its thrifty grace, He stood it in the market-place. And hourly to the crowd would cry, "My precious Truth, who'll buy! who'll buy!" He sang its praises late and soon In lyrics of all kinds of tune; Yet tho it shot forth green and fair. And spread its leaves to sun and air. Burgher and matron, maid and youth, Laughed at the poet and his Truth. A scientist in cap and gown, First marked it with a hostile frown; A pedant, steeped in dreams of age, Fogged in his mythologic page. Declared it but a weed, he saw 77 14- §. 78 THE EVERGROWING TRUTH 'Twas clear against time-honored law; For plants of such a strange degree He could not find authority; He deemed it but a thing uncouth; "It never, never could be Truth." A pompous theologue drew near And smiled, "Good sir, what have we here? 'Tis worthless, friend; you should devote Your care to matters less remote. Certainly God did not intend This unknown weed, to work His end. A thousand seedlings comelier far I'll lend you from my dogma jar. You surely cannot mean, forsooth. To call this wretched wild thing. Truth." A politician sidled up And sneered, "You drain a bitter cup. Who'll buy? Not all the fiends in Hell Nor saints in Heaven; you'd better sell Odes to the hero of the time; He's useful, if much less sublime. You swear you've grown it? Well, suppose You have — will't bring you bread and clothes? From Pilate down," he chuckled, "youth, We're all at ^ci about the Truth." One day a philosophic wight Fingered it, gauged its spread and height; He measured down and round about. Yet what it was still held in doubt. 'Twas in bad way — 'twould soon be dead; He snorted, squinted, shook his head: "A dreamer's whim as one may see; What, this thing bourgeon to a tree! THE EVER-GROWING TRUTH 'Twill ne'er aUde Time's gnawing tooth; It never, never can be Truth." So all men on it gazed askance, Or gave it scorn or passing glance; They tossed their heads, they pursed their lips, They would not take the proffered slips. The owner shouted all day long, "Who'll buy — 'tis surely worth a song!" But the it wrung the poet's heart To sue the mammon-greedy mart. They would not give him heed nor ruth. They would not buy his novel Truth. Time passed — the world-wrecked poet died; The plant his loving hand supplied With tendanr-e slowly pined away. Nor longer bloomed in fac r day; Blossom and leafage, all for^jt. Lay shrunk within the earthen pot. Men marked its brown and cheerless hue: "Look what the crazy poet grew! Pity the fool outlived his youth. He fondly called this changeling 'Truth.' ". Ar-l now the plant which had beguiled •vwt, passed unto a child, i .eak-eyed offspring, who, purblind When manhood came, forgot to mind The precious flower, and anyone Who cared might place it in the sun. "I have so much, so much to do; My father valued it? — most true." He blinked, then gave a yawn uncouth; "I have no time to air liis Truth." 79 ff i 80 THE EVER-GROWING TRUTH At length a stranger hurrying by, Chanced the neglected plant to spy. He halted, gazed, then asked the price, And straight he owned it in a trice. He watered it with constant care. He gave it wealth of sun and air. When, lo, around its withered heart New tender sprouts began to start; They leaved, they wove a verdant booth, — The poet's wonder-working Truth! And now folk asked in stark surprise Whence came this plant of giant size. They wondered much to see it spread; Then fell to praising it instead. The theologue, with mouth agape, All speechless, watched it taking shape; The man of science wrote a book Upon it; pedants stopped to look With reverence, and the man of oooth, The pbilosoph, adored the Truth. The politician stared, and then Took off his hat and cried, "Amen I We've grown it; I foresaw it all, 'Tis plain as apples in the Fall: The man was cannier than we knew; I also had this long in view." But all, unknowing whence it came. Thronged to the owner for its name; "What's this?" they cried, "is this forsooth What that daft rhymer called the Truth?" "You v/ould not take the poet's word," He answered, "tho 'twas daily heard; Like mine, your prescience might have known THE EVER-GROWING TRUTH These bravely struggling leaves half-grown, And owned, had you but eyes to see, These blossoms for futurity. The man you mocked heartbroken died; The plant you scorned is now your pride ; Supreme beyond neglect or ruth. Behold the never-dying Truth!" 8l J EUGENIE ON THE DEATH OF HER SON WHAT, killed! O God! who said so? it is false! I'll not believe it! 'tis an arrant lie Forged by an enemy! Tears! then It's true, True or I would not weep ! I shall go mad Crushed by this load of woe! My son, my son! Bless'd God, couldst thou not find a sacrifice Some other than my lamb, my only one? Were there not gallant hearts enow to bleed That have no mothers ? — None but only him On whom the hopes of millions lived and thrived? Art thou all sternness, that couldst take his life, So hopeful, fresh and loving, full of joy. And leave me desolate? — Oh, it cannot be! Men call thee merciful, and mercy loves To guard young tender life, not to crush quite The lonely longing heart, the yearning hope. The hope of years, long, lon;i and painful years; — Oh Heaven, I rave, I rave, stern judging Heaven! I never, oh, I never more shall see Him whom I once called Louis, never lay My hand upon his brow and bid him live The ceding glory, life and light of France. Ah, woe is ine! for I have outlived hope, Husband and throne and country, and my fSild! Strike now, thou grinning Death, and join a^ain Them thou hast parted! give me back my boy! Or that this agonizing grief might bring Madness upon my soul! but yet not so — For then, perchance, I'd lose all memory 82 EUGENIE ON THE DEATH OF HER SON 83 Of my poor stricken love; — no, better live And weep from day to day salt drops of sorrow And drown my grief in tears, feeding their flow Upon remembrances of my dear boy, Nipped by the fierce frost in his morn of May. my son, my son! Had I been near to hear thy dying lips Falter the name of Mother — to exchange One parting look — to stanch thy piteous wounds — To watch the flicker of thy fleeting breath ; — How soft I would have pressed thee to my breast Where once thou lay, my child, a smiling babe — And soothed thy passing moments, and have wiped The death-dew from thy brow — but thou art gone — And I no more shall see thee, my lost boy! My one, my Joseph! oh, my light, my all! 1 cannot think, my child, that thou art dead. And that corruption and the grave shall mar Thy delicate flesh — thou wert too young to die; Youth bloomed, hope brightened in thy speaLing glance. And how I loved to trace with mother's pride The lineaments the partial hand of Time Was graving on thy brow, kinglike and fair. Ah, little thought I, child, when thou didst belt England's bright sword of battle on thy side And with thy radiant smile didst raise my hopes With words of loving cheer, that I no more Would hear the merry music of thy voice Beguile my weary hours from vain regrets; No more would feel thy warm breath on my cheek, The light clasp of thine arm, as with flushed brow And kindling eye, thou saidst, "Ma mere, adieu! I go to make me worthy thee and France And crown my brows with honor, that the world May know thy son is equal to his name li 84 EUGE.aE ON THE DEATH OF HER SON And to hit former fortune* — happy if he May thread with glory the dark web of fate. His star shall lead thy Louis up to fame, France, and an empire; never yet hath failed The great hope of our race — good bye, good bye I God keep thee!" and thou leftst me with that word. Yes, then thou leftst me, leftst me here alone. Alone! was I alone? No, while thou livedst My spirit went forth with thee, as in dreams. Watched o'er thee oft on shipboard or in camp. Walked with thee up and down, joined in thy prayer, Ay, poured out for thee litanies of love. I'd muse away whole hours' upon a guess Of how thou'dst be employed, ' and how thou'dst shine Upon the field of battle, and would pray The God of hosts to keep my boy from harm, Till prayer begat assurance— Oh, fond fool! To trust the promptings of a mother's heart And hope to buy thy safety with her prayers. Oh, thou wert winged for glory, Icarus, But flew too near its sun! Now art thou gone. And now am I alone! Oh, I am cold! The nig^t-wind gives a moan that thou art dead, The night-bird tells it to her lonely mate; This eve the Sun, fainting within the west, Cast on his bed of clouds a bloody stain. Yet shall he rise and smile, freshed with new life — But thou, my Light, my Sun, dyeing the fields Of far-ofi Africa with thy young life Let out by savage hands, — remorseless hearts That held no pity for thy tender youth. Thy life-blood streaming on their cruel spears — No more shall come to greet me with thy smile. I am alone, alone amidst a world Of moving bodies, careless, mocking forms That taunt me with their life thy bloody death. EUGENIE ON THE DEATH OF HER SON 85 I have no more to live for and the grave Yawnt wide it* dre — portal; — come, kind Death! Snap the last cord that -Mi me to thii earth That I may seek my lost one through the skies; — I have no other hope — I am alone! RESURGAM "Old thinfs need not be therefore true O brother men, nor yet the new; Ah! still awhile the old thought retain. And yet coniider it again!" CO wrote the rhymer of a vanished day •J And we, the Present's children in our ^lay At circumstance, abiding calm and sane, Should take this home— consider it again! The passing hour— the horologe of Time Rounds forth the cycle of a change sublime; Old institutions tottering to their fall, And a new writing on tradition's wall. Progress plays life 'gainst death— the setting sun Bnngs with new hopes and fears fresh tasb begun New to last year or yesterday, and change. Growth and decay thru all creation range. And yet— and yet— the past is with us still; Plan what we may the omnipresent will Of past achievement lays its heavy hand Upon our souls to warn, to check, command. There is no dead past— the germ source, the earth Gives to all sentient life its primal birth; Ei.-h animal, plant, serviceable sod. Lives in and on and of the senseless clod. Unresting as earth's tides the social flow Beats on Time's shores in waves of joy or woe. Creatures of circumstance are we, and yet This homely phrase we never should forget, 86 RESURGAM Tho chance at times conspires to prove a lie, "God is with him who keeps his powder dry." All conscious effort tells, — the ameeba's span Marks progress, even as the mind of man. And all life's sublimations, all its ills Spring from the varied tension of our wills. This we may say— there dwells essential might That makes for God, in other phrase, the Right; In spite of foil and of recurrent flow The tides of being swell and higher go. As various as the leaves of forest trees. As shapes of rock or cloud, s flight of bees Or birds or butterflies, the ' man soul Differs within the round of ..» control. Humanity, that particolored veil Of the Almighty whose pure beams assail The universe, changes with every cloud Of custom twixt the cradle and the shr ' 1. And with this change comes strife; — Existence first Claims tribute of our nature as of erst, — To gain whate'er one can,— the primal law That doth all life within its meshes draw. And next the spirit of Beauty, struggling thru The inert past, the chaos of the new. Wearing upon its crest world maidenhood, Unfolding in its utmost sense the Good. And last, the chrism of Love, supreme control Of life made perfect in the human soul, Forsaking self and passing hand to hand The torch of Happiness thru a darkened land. Vet Love, as said the ancient world, is blind: Tho true its instincts, none the less has Mind Sentence and rule of every living thing. And out of Mind Justice and Order spring. And out of Order, Justice grows the State, 88 RESURGAM Borrowing the curule chair and robes of Fate, And high above the throne of State, the rood Blood-drenched and scarred of Human Brotherhood. Out of this concord currents flow of thought. Muddy, clear welling, ill or wisely taught, A reaching out for something unfulfilled, By knowledge chastened, by doubt checked or chilled. Philosophy, Religion, Science, Art, These sway the soul in absolute or part, The four main props of life, and built on these The thousand tiers of life's utilities. From savage up to seer, the Soul's unrest Is constant, striving still to be expressed In bome rude idol moulded, carved by hand. Or thoughts that to the zenith star expand. Like tides that sweep upon some rock-bound shore These waves of soul-endeavor evermore Beat on the shores of Time; their constant play Sweep round the headlands of the stormed to-day. II The social systems, present, past, to come, The monarch's trumpet, the republic's drum, The poet's vision, the idealist's plan. The Happy Valley, the millennial man. And all the varied shibboleths proved in vain, Voiced by the restless record of the brain. Fast as the pictured films incessant flow. While life moves on with never-ending show. i '• * Lo, Anarchy, an ideal, crudely wrought, Unchartered by historic fact or thought, Bearing within itself the seeds of death. Denying force, yet force its living breath. Cursing the nations and by them accursed. Destruction of the state its last and first, RESURGAM 89 Best advertised of economic pills, The panacea for all social ills! A stricter theory, a preciser scope, Rule grown supreme, the Socialistic hope. Antithesis of Anarchy, to bind In law's straight shackles variant mankind; At hearth and field and mart one pulseless plan To free the aspiring, restless heart of man; To lift the curse from poverty and play Jove to the trivial habit of the day; To shove each king and magnate from his throne Yet place thereon an idol hard as stone, And under guise of setting genius free Fettering it thru combined utility; Man's flowering thought, a formal potted theme; — This forms the rainbow of an airy dream. Ah, could such dream dawn true! if Heaven's white dove Of peace could bind the peoples all in love. With chains of flowers, or might man and man Bridge heart to heart, nor Hell have power to ban, The true Christ then were come, no god-head birth, But a new human day-spring o'er the earth. If such the consecration — if the mind Of Heaven might clothe and expedite mankind. Moulding the world one kinship, fit to climb The laurelled heights of self-obscured time, Not vain Love's martyrs braved the toil and shock. Nor Sidney's blood flowed fruitless on the block. Nor all the seers who wizard armor forge From Socrates to Kant and Henry George To fight the dragon. Error, would be found Vain charging down the wind; nor would be drovirned In the world discord of the new and last The mighty poets, answering blast for blast. 90 RESURGAM The trumpet tongues of the ages, who aye strove To show that love was beauty, beauty love; The symmetry and concord of the soul, All life and light, with systems as they roll In one harmonious diapason — sod, Tree, flower, fish, reptile, bird, beast, man, to God! ■ ii ; 1 i : ■ 1 ■ll m IN THE GLOAMING WE sat upon the rough sea shore, My ph'ghted love and I ; The heavens with clouds were tented o'er, No star upheld the sky; Yet was the ether strewn with light And sweet the air and mild, While the slow waters to the night Crooned like a sleepy child When lulled upon its mother's knee ; And from the fragrant earth. Around us on the shadowed lea, A million trills had birth. Which tinily did interfuse And to the heavens upburn, While downward Night her dusks and dews Poured from her poppied urn. Silent and still we sat ; her cheek Pressed mine, — i' the other's arms Each folded; rythmically did speak The beached waves' low alarms; 91 9a IN THE GLOAMING The refluent wave which aye assailed The pebbles beneath our feet ; — Oyer us, amethystine veiled, Night bended down to greet inl m IV "^he breathing earth with still embrace; The brooding, thrilled delight, The living lushness and the grace Of warm midsummer night. And so our souls fell 'into chime With earth and sky and sea; So did our sentient summertime Melt in mute ecstasy. And then she upoke,— her words came low As the soft-lapping tide; Fervent as Evening's pulsing glow, My sweet-voiced, sea-born bride; High words of love and light as pure And kind as Heaven's own dew; Words that shall comfort and endure My last life journey thru. VI And while we lingered paled the light, Dusk's curtains were dravirn down ; Passed o'er the placid wave the Night, And o'er the dreaming down IN THE GLOAMING Her sables moved; but in that world, Our hearts, the light still burned; The petals of our souls unfurled. And forth to Heaven upturned. 93 VII And thru our bosoms throbbed the heart Of breathing Nature's God; One were we with the spheres, a part Of star and wave and sod; Comrade with eldest yearnings blown Thru sentient pipes of Pan, To nohlest dreams of earth full grown. The Uod-ward tread of Man. vni Oh life, oh love, ye are the same To souk born free and true! Oh pure heart faith, words cannot frame What the rapt eye may view! Far from earth's dull material sounds The still small voice is heard, How oft the rude world's discord drowns Heaven's sweet star-lighted word! CANADIAN THANKSGIVING HYMN lie It in ■rVOWN all the changes of the years, ■■-^ Across earth's mingled joys and tears, The stars of endless progress shine; The centuries, O L6rd, are Thine! Thy hand the sovereign gifts of peace Bestows with bounteous, rich increase; The hearts of nations move to Thee As towards the moon the midnight sea. The star that rose o'er Morning Land Doth now with clearer beam expand; Old dreams come true — oh, wondrous spell Thy word of love, Emanuel I Now "aith, like Noah's wandering dove, The drear wide waste of creeds above, Bears back unto her refuge ark Her token o'er the waters dark. But chief of those Thy love hath blest Are we, the English of the West; With filled and overflowing hands The Benjamin of Nations stands. O, thanks supreme are due to Thee, Who brought us forth across the sea. And taught our souls to feel and know; Where Truth could build and Freedom grow! 94 CANADIAN THANKSGIVING HYMN 95 Still runs the sturdy Standish' strain, — Still glows the patriot heart of Vane In us, — the old Cromwellian will In us is warm and vital still. What though the horoscope of fate Points out fresh dangers to the state, Thy mercies oft our path have crossed. Our trust, like Gideon's, was not lost. Great cause for many thanks have we, A land at peace, a Nation free; From North to South, from East to West, Above all nations we are blest. Blest in our heritage and increase, — Blest both in faction and in peace, — Blest more than Israel in her prime. This new, this true Hesperian clime. With no faint hope for our young land. We lay our futures in Thy hand ; For blessings past we worship Thee, And for Thy bounties yet to be. Though fate's dark frown should cloud Thy face. Keep for us. Lord, Thy heart of grace; Our lives are Thine; Thy Gospel's ray Lights up our new Thanksgiving Day! THE HOLLYHOCKS SOME space beyond the prden close I sauntered down the shadowed lawn ; It was the hour when sluggards doze, The cheerful, zephyr-breathing dawn. The sun had not yet bathed his face, Dark reddened from the night's carouse. When lo, in festive gypsy grace The hollyhocks stood nodding brows. They shone full bold and debonair — That fine, trim band of frolic blades; Their ruffles, pinked and purfled fair, Flamed with their riotous rainbow shades. They whupered light each comrade's ears. They flirted with the wooing breeze; The grassy army's stanchest spears Rose merely to their stalwart knees! My heart flushed warm with welcome They were so royal tall to see; No high-placed rivals nerd they fear. All flowers paid them fealty. The haughtiest wild rose standing near Their girdles hardly might attain; They glowed, the courtiers of a year, Blithe pages in the Summer's train! Their radiance mocked the ruddy morn, So jocund and so saucy free; Gay vagrants. Flora's bravest born, They brightened all the emerald lea. 96 cheer, THE HOLLYHOCKS I Mid : "Glad hearts, the crabbed frost Will soon your sun-dyed glories blight; No evil eye your pride has crossed, You know not the designs of night. "You have not thought that beauty fades; It is in vain you bloom so free; While you are flaunting in the glades The gale may wreck your wanton glee." They shook their silken frills in scorn, And to ny warning seemed to say, "Dull rhymester, lookl 'tis summer morn. And round us is the court of Day!" 97 CALIFORNIA BRIDE of the Sun, thou beautiful Queen of the limitless West, A tiara of glittering snowptaks o'er thy proud, imperial crest; With thy veil of vines and flowers, and eyes of eternal blue. From the Occident greeting the Orient, heir of the Old and New. California crowned with summer, thou fairest of fair two- score, Great is thy name amid nations, bright marvel of mountain and shore; With gaze fixed full on the future or lifted to Hope's glad skies. The stars of a cloudless heaven reflected in thine eyes. At thy feet the Ocean casteth his broad and burnished shield, For thou stretchest a scepter of iron over his wave-strewn field; And thy ichor of life takes fire from the glow of thy mighty heart, As from thy lips of passion the peans of triumph start. On thy robes the perfume of roses lingers the live-long And the dream-winds of the ocean make music in thine ear; 98 CALIFORNIA 99 Child-mother, of yeui moft fruitful, whow breut* o'erflow with milk, The Eut fhall lue for thy favor wiih ipicei and sem* and Mlk. Yet, O thou peerlem beauty, tho dowered with Heaven's high grace. Dream not of a cloudless future— the meed of a faultless face; For evil hath tainted thy blood, and the petulance of thy hand May turn a curse upon thee and blast thy bounteous land. Rise, rise in strength majestic, young Titaness of the West, And forge thyself a cuirass of the gold that adorns thy breast; Temper thy sword of justice in Freedom's sacred fire. And slay with heart unflinching the dragon of thy desire. Smite with the edge of thine ire that dragon of soulless greed; So shalt thou leave safeguarded the heritage of thy seed; So shall plenty descend like dew and the fair and fruitful earth Requite with lavish largesse the life that gave thee birth. Anoint thy soul with vigil, thou bright-haired matron- knight ; Win fairly thy crown of honor, bear bravely thy shield in flight; So Peace may o'er thy conquest her choicest blessing spread. And wreathe with the orange blossoms the laurel round thy head. 100 CALIFORNIA i Then will thy ittr rnpleiKient burn on the brow o< Morn ; The Aurora of life new-waking, discarding her robes out- worn; In the virginal beauty of Truth, mid the nation* radiant stand. The charm of a brighter heaven — the joy of an ampler land! m TO THE POETS r\H,potu, brothers, though the world, unheeding V-^ Grudges us all things save its care and pain; Know our probation is the spring-time seeding— Our tears the warm and fertilizing rain. Make firm your choice I should we be slaves to Mammon, 10 take the flesh pots from his sweaty hand ' Better Heaven's manna in the land of famine I— Better the desert thirst, the lonesome «andl Should we forego our ill.paid love and hn ;ag For Wealth's and Power's de' rium and feari? '" "<^««n«. careless sloth should we be dropping The soiled rosary of the silver years? Ye faithful hearted, what is Pride's indenture To those who Heaven and Nature's secrets share? We have our Shakesperr— he will, peradventure. Show us the heights whcr<- laurels grow most fair. Let us not fail in word, in just ambition; Nor solely use the prophet's voice to please; Nor spend the golden thought in cheap attrition Of trifling themes and turbid fantasies. On, minstrels,— cheer the van,— march uncomplaining! Ye are God's favorite children, for we feel Perpetual spring within our spirits reigning, Though frosts of age may on our locks congeal. 10 1 loa TO THE POETS Pale watchers for the Light — in the new reaping Men shall adore each lambent, deathless nan- ! Ye patient ones — a wealth of smiles and weeping The world shall pay in homage to your fame! Yes, all the tissued dreams of Fancy's leading. The gold-wrought threads of song our rapture wove, Are raiment to man's naked human pleading. Girded with sacrifice and clasped with love. THE SLUMBER SHE paled away like some bright flower, In Autumn's chill, Before the storm unchains its power. At winter's will. She sleeps— nor all life's fevered dream Disturbs her rest, As pulseless as the thin moonbeam, That lights her breast. 103 n ONE KIN ARE WE WE all are sons of English land, From Britain to New Zealand's strand ; From isles of spice and far Cathay To realms of occidental day. From shore to shore, from sea to sea, Throughout all earth one kin are we! One kin, undoubted, faithful, free. In our redoubted Liberty! We own the wealth of half the world; Our sails on every sea unfurled Waft treasures priceless and untold; Ours are the fabled shores of gold! In every land, on every sea, On foreign strands, one kin are we! One kin, illustrious still to be In our industrious Liberty! How bright the stars of empire shine Above palmetto, oak and pine! How the full groves of orange trees Are rustling in fair Freedom's breeze! Our realms of oceaned industry Show to the world one kin are we! One kin of blended fame are we, Born to one splendid Liberty! The Slav, the Teuton, and the Gaul, Our strength and splendor dwarfs them all; 104 ONE KIN ARE WE They quarrel o'er their conquered lands- Earth groans beneath their armed bands; Aloof in calm supremacy We bide, because one kin are we ! One kin of fearless, proud degree. Guarding our peerless Liberty! Freedom regains each lost estate From out the grudging hold of Fate, The peaceful triumphs of her rule. Arts, science, law, the church, the school; Our patron saint of husbandry Is she, because nne kin are we! One kin — one tov."ring, wide-spread tree, With flowering boughs of Liberty! Old England's glories bloom o'er earth; They bourgeon forth in constant birth! The stars that o'er Columbia shine. The Pleiads o'er the Canadian pine. The Austral cresset blazing free, Now light the world; one kin are we I One kin, far-famed, of proud degree, Led by our star-flamed Liberty! The earth's redemption draweth nigh ! Hark! as the dowerless nations sigh, The rush of Freedom's firm set feet Resounds down each insurgent street! Her banner rolls out broad and free We lead the van! One kin are we! One kin — one valorous constancy — Yes, one chivalrous Liberty! 105 THE VISION ll I*-'* : 1 V. ''X^WAS twilight hour; I sat in darkened mood; ■I. "Would that the world would yield me more of good," I sadly mused, when, close at my right hand My guardian genius seemed to me to stand. His face was calm, compassionate, and mild. He gazed on me and all so sweetly smiled, A paly radiance strayed across the room, Like flickering moonbeams through a covert gloom. He placed his hand upon my bended head; "Look up, my child," in pure, low tones he said; I looked, and wonderingly I gazed again. The room seemed filled with a triumphal train. Each figure in the dim light loomed and shaped, Then crossed and vanished where the shades were draped; And as they to my gazing passed away, My sweet-faced genius low tc me did say: "These are the phantoms of thy youthful hope. They enter not within thy manhood's scope; Fair cherished ideals of life's early day, Lo, one by one, they slowly fade away. "Look thou once morel" again I raised mine eyes; There passed a figure clad in splendid guise; He eyed me with a shrewd, cold gaze of stealth; "Not thine," the genius said, "his name is Wealth." io6 THE VISION A stately presence next did cross me by ; Proud was his mien and threatening was his eye; One short, contemptuous glance he on me cast; This one is Power, and lo, he too has passed!" I looked again— a delicate perfume Of rose and jasmine wandered through the room; There came a maiden all bedeckt with flowers. Sweeter than those e'er grown in Flora's bowers. Her eyes were lustrous as the stars of night. And graceful was her form as sylph of light; She held me spell-bound in delicious charm;' Sweetly she smiled and waved her lily arm. Yet passed she on— bewildered and amazed I earnestly within the darkness gazed ; The genius touched me, "She too doth remove; Not thine," he said, "men call this siren. Love." I heaved a sigh— with rapt look and profound, One slowly came, his head with bays was crowned; And fair as is the opening rose of morn, A changeful radiance from his form was 'borne. Yet simple was his garb— a glance he turned Upon my anxious eyes, that through me burned; With eager hps and outstretched hand his name I cried aloud, "take all, but leave me Fame!" Yet even as I spake he passed away; My head in anguish in my hands I lay; When a low voice upon the other side Said softly, "Grieve not, I with thee abide!" 107 •If io8 THE VISION I raised mine eyes which vanished hope had seared; My calm-faced genius all transformed appeared ; Celestial radiance all his visage veiled, And scars showed where his hands had once been nailed. "My child," he said, "the world for thee has nought; Wealth, power, and fame are all too dearly bought; Even love itself, unsanctified by me. Would lure thy soul from higher destiny. "Know thou thy good — what hallows mortal life Is 'gainst ourselves to wage a conquering strife; Learn thou of me thy frailties to subdue. And be in all things to thy vision true." He ceased, and all his form grew heavenly fair. Then slowly faded through the still night air; Humbled and awed my spirit inly bowed. And as he passed the moon brake through a cloud. THE BIRTHPLACE OF FREEDOM WHERE'S Freedom's birthplace? it should be Some spot of earth most fair to see ! What doth she name her natal home? Some minster pile? some palace dome? In what court, castle, tower or hall, Did her first lisping accents fall? Not within bannered walls of stone Doth Freedom any birthright own! No! she was not with life endowed Among the mighty and the proud — Neither midst king- nor conquerors found. Nor lords nor prelates capped and gowned; The haughty barons, earls, and peers, Oppressed and starved her infant years: She hath not there a heritage known, — No birthright there may Freedom own! Perchance her nascent strength grew then Midst demagogues and lawless men? Mayhap midst anarchy and crime Was nurtured first her youth sublime? In realms by selfish faction torn Perhaps the radiant maid was bom? Where such rash tyrants sway the throne No heritage can Freedom own! It may te, then, in ways of trade Her earliest infant footsteps strayed, 109 no THE BIRTHPLACE OF FREEDOM Where Commerce with her golden chain Links shore to shore, jiins main to main? No! she was poor. No costly bales No argosies with swelling sails Were hers — for humble, scorned, alone. No birthright there could Freedom own! No! her first smile she did bestow Neither on wealth nor power, nor show; But long ago her tender form Was rescued from a night of storm. From out her peril lifted then High in the arms of lowly men, A love child, sacred, though unknown, Midst them might Freedom heritage own! Lo, proud even of her humble bir'. Are now the great ones of the earth ; As eager now her court to fill As erst their hatred wrought her ill. But now, as then, her guardian stands The son of toil with hardened hands; As when in youth, now fairly grown. To him her life doth Freedom own ! THE GOLDEN-ROD ALONG the bronze-banked roadside as I stray What is it braids the front of Autumn day ? The fields are brown, the wild flowers shrunk in blight, Save where this glory trails upon my sight; O Golden-Rod I 'Tis you who greet me as I walk abroad I As forth I saunter, sunk in moody dreams, Around my path your way-fire pageant gleams; While starring all my dusk of musing drear. You hold me high your wealth of nodding cheer; O Golden-Rod! Moving my fancy as along I plod. You love by common human paths to dwell; Unlike the hermit shrunken to his cell. You eye with interest human toil and strife Undaunted by the dust of passing life; O GcMen-Rod! Blooming your brightest on the hardest sod. Your free-willed, fearless presence showeth me Worth bravely cheerful midst adversity. How life may through the current of the day Its bloom pf kindly service wear alway; O Golden-Rod! May manhood blossom like your rude birth