IRLF B M 1DD MM1 FIRST LOVE A LYRIC SEQUENCE BY LOUIS UNTERMEYER BOSTON SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 1911 COPYRIGHT, 1911 SHERMAN, FRENCH &* COMPANY TO MY WIFE WHATEVER IN THIS BOOK IS WORTHY OF HER 305941 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE The linnet is tuning her flute ... 1 Oh, what has caused the sparrow s mirth? 2 A new religion stirs me now ... 3 The bush is in bloom and the tree is in flower 4 All the fields are glad again .... 5 There s something missing in the world 6 The broken bow is healed ..... 7 I lay "full length upon a fragrant lawn 8 Lights 10 Oh woodlands, hang your banners out 12 It was but yesterday I went ... 13 / have discovered where she lives . . 14 There is no death to conquer Spring . 15 Green is the blooming thicket ... 16 Swallow, tardy swallow 17 Oh, she is proud as the virtuous goddess 19 "The river turns to the peaceful breast" 20 When she would go from me can I re prove her? 21 Under the stars the wistful, mild May stars 22 Away with doleful maundering, away with fretful days ...... 23 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE "To-morrow to-morrow to-morrow" 25 My soul if e er your eyes were moist 26 Dawn and the vision glorious at last 27 Linger awhile, oh day of happy tears 29 Now leaps the lyric madness . . . 30 Down in the vale the singing birds have nested 31 Our love is like the soothing rain . . 32 Who has heard the night? . . .33 "Only of thee and me the nightwind sings" 34 Our phrases fail, our very murmurs cease . 35 Roses they are here 36 They say that she is fickle . ... 38 / love the murmur that begins . . 39 Dear, since we both are held in Love s command .> 40 In each other s arms we lay ... 41 Every night I climb the stair ... 42 One perfect week one week of joy un tainted 43 Once more are the glorious ... 44 / toss upon my bed, am burned and chilled . 45 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE Last night we walked among the paths of air 46 "While the world is soothed with sleep" 47 Come, oh Love, my best physician . 48 Autumn has come to-day I heard it all 49 Under the cover of the soothing night 50 When the dusk enshrouds .... 51 An hour before the challenging gleam 52 She has left me for a while ... 53 / sent her a fortnight ago ,\ 54 My soul is sick of roses .... 55 When the August days were in April mood 56 Mount up, my songs, mount up to her 57 Night, sing to her 58 "Love s a garment only meant" . . 59 I hate her soul tis like some poisoned flower 60 // God last night had raised his hand 61 God / can scarcely grasp it yet . . 62 God made her when he dreamed his fair est dream ........ 64 She loved me? Nay, she never did . 65 Oh, who are we that we are given love? 66 In the woods the little elves . . 67 INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE Twas in the sunny weather I threw my "heart away 68 A meeting a sighing 69 Yea, tho* I hate her with a deathless hate ......... 70 Breezes, be still 71 Through time unborn* undying . . 72 Unrest is laid upon me like a blight . 73 I wander homeward, many a mile . . 75 There s a garden a vale .... 76 / stood within the city of the dead . 77 All night long I heard the rain . . 78 Thanks to God I did not die ... 79 The world is ours again 80 Envoy 81 FIRST LOVE THE linnet is tuning her flute, The bees are beginning to swarm, And the music of blossom and root Is throbbing and joyful and warm. I am part of the lyrical strife, I am one with the voices that sing While even the stones feel a hunger for life In the urge and the clamor of Spring ! [i] OH what has caused the sparrow s mirth That she should sing so light a song Oh what has come upon the earth That it should laugh the whole day long- Oh who has made his magic thrill The heart of fairy, flower and fawn I looked behind a rosy hill And saw Him in the dawn. For it was April he that comes With laughter on his lyric lips, While every happy zephyr hums, And clouds go by like homing ships. The sullen day, the torpid night, The world s indifferent moods depart, And all things surge with music, light, Dreams and the April heart. 3 A NEW religion stirs me now With sacred fervor, and I vow To be its votary, and share With song and sunshine everywhere. Its ministers are birds and trees, Its choir is the holy breeze, Its creed: To make the whole world fair With song and sunshine everywhere. This is the faith that I will keep, This is the passion that will sweep My winter-burdens into air With song and sunshine everywhere. v For He is risen, and I sing The throbbing ritual of Spring; While April moves me, more than prayer, With song and sunshine everywhere. THE bush is in bloom and the tree is in flower, On the lips of a crocus two butterflies swing; My heart is uplift with this beauty and power And I am eighteen and as young as the Spring ! The winds are conspiring in cavern and grot, The rains are a menace in fallow and firth ; The joy of the Spring is foregone and for got And I am eighteen and as old as the earth. [4] ALL the fields are glad again Since the rain ; All the shepherds and their herds, Brooks and birds, Are a singing wave that swells ; And the bells Have a newer joyful note Sounding in each merry throat. And I, lying on the grass, Saw her pass ; Saw her face so wistful-wise And her eyes; Heard her as she went along With a song. And I knew that this was what Spring had promised and forgot. [5] 6 THERE S something missing in the world, There s something wrong with Spring The lips of May are cold and curled, She will not deign to sing. There s something common in the breeze That sweeps the tawdry skies, And all the trees green ecstasies Are hateful to my eyes. The mirth of earth s a shabby cloak, A thread-bare guise and thin ; And every wisp of fading smoke A vision that has been. My heart is old and dull and dumb, My songs are incomplete She does not come, she does not come Oh will we never meet ! [6] THE broken bow is healed, The wind has lost its sting, And life, long mute in farm and field, Has many songs to sing. Behold, how sweetly is revealed The gentle nursing of the Spring. The winter-tortured trees Stand straight and free of pain ; Despairing rivers, left to freeze, Are warmed to life again. And all the sick world s agonies Have torn the heart of earth in vain. There is no grass that grows, No freshet running clear, There is no new-born bird but knows The gladness of the year; The bruise and burden of the snows Have left the world without a tear. Now Fancy tries its wing, Now passions blush and start, While even children, touched with Spring, Whisper and walk apart. And I I am the only thing Still bearing Winter in its heart. [7] 8 I LAY full length upon a fragrant lawn, Watching the Dawn Unveil her trembling loveliness and bare Her growing blushes to the placid stare Of lakes, that woke to gaze without surprise Into her own bewildered eyes ; Then caught her smile a moment after And broke into a rippling laughter. And as I dreamed, the mysteries of earth, Unknown since birth, In every tongue were suddenly made clear ; Nature translated and I seemed to hear The thousand babel voices of the Spring Each in its speech the others answering, Mingling with songs of vaguely-felt desires A myriad slumbers and a myriad fires. I heard the buds beside the pasture-bars Speak of the stars, I heard the valley brooklets and the rills Echo the meditations of the hills. The singing leaves like countless tiny lutes Sang of the dreams that stirred the deepest roots, And every beckoning breeze seemed to dis close The romance of the roadside and the rose. [8] The river grasses murmured for the free And buoyant sea .... So each one voiced its dream but not a word Of love and its wild wonders had I heard ; Dumb and insensate things that could not tell Aught of the theme which Man has sung so well! / left the place to learn of Love; and after, I heard the lake break into rippling laughter. [9] 9 LIGHTS On the heights And stars in every lake The stillness seems to shake Watcher and sleeper. Wise Are the skies But touched with April now Heaven has grown somehow Softer and deeper. Strange With the change What secrets lie unfurled ! Yea, and I feel the world Closer and keener; Back Of the black And endless veils of Night Have I not glimpsed the Light, Once having seen her. [10] Earth Giving birth And death in every wood Marvel misunderstood I know the heart of it ; Life And the strife Making the mighty wince Have I not felt it, since She is a part of it? Though I may know Naught of her care and grace Still will her slender face Rise to overwhelm me; Still Will she fill And color all my hours She of whom stars and flowers Always will tell me. 10 OH woodlands, hang your banners out And wave them all till Death ; Oh winds, exult with me and shout Till you are out of breath; Oh Spirit of the Spring, employ Your every subtle art But you can never match the joy That leaps within my heart. Sing louder, louder till you fail, Impulsive little throng; Oh wonder-stricken nightingale, Is this your wildest song? Oh laughing millions everywhere, You should be twice as gay ; Oh what a sky and what an air I saw my love to-day! [12] 11 IT was but yesterday I went Through woods where turmoil ceases ; A golden day was almost spent, The dazzling robe of heaven was rent Into a thousand pieces. And musingly I walked along, Humming a happy song. And, after threading many a maze, Just how there is no telling More in a dream than in a daze I looked beyond and lo, my gaze Fell on her little dwelling. A miracle a sweet surprise Breathless, I raised my eyes. And toward me from a surging sky, There came the sound of singing; It was my love she wandered by With half a smile and half a sigh, And passed me, lightly swinging. Then, wrapped in sunset, she became Splendor and singing flame! [13] I HAVE discovered where she lives And loiter near the place ; The thought that I am near her gives Me solace for a space. Here is the gate with rusty springs, Here is the garden small, And here her dress has brushed the things That grow about the wall. She sees this swallow that returns To nest among the eaves; Her feet have stirred these very ferns, She may have touched these leaves. Her very presence must have blessed These things that fly or crawl ; Even the twigs that I caressed She knows, she loves them all. She is a part of all that grows, Of all that dares and dreams, She is the fragrance of the rose, The soul of laughing streams. And though I never see her near, No sorrow burdens me; Her grace, her charm is always here In everything I see. [14] 13 THERE is no Death to conquer Spring And tear us with an unknown pain For she will always come to sing The ancient throbbing back again. And love, once gained, will live and bring With every year a fairer flower; Then why is Youth the only thing That comes and dies within an hour! [15] 14 GREEN is the blooming thicket, Green is the budding bough, And ivied wall and wicket Are green and glowing now. The freshening color passes Through Spring s own veins, and fills Green trees and seas and grasses, Green vales and verdant hills. And while the emerald fire Sweeps over all the earth, From Winter s gleaming pyre Are lit the flames of Mirth ; And Youth and April Weather In ecstasy are seen To rise and dance together Green in a world of green. [16] 15 SWALLOW, tardy swallow, Hasten your returning, Spring s already burning In every heart and hollow. Swift with exultation, Flames are sweeping over Towns and fields of clover, Men and all creation. Only she, my own, Greets me unaffected; Still the same a resurrected Sappho carved in stone. Earth and I reprove her But she listens dumbly ; Nothing seems to move her She is too calm and comely Leave her, oh leave her, Winter s disdains, Earth, put the fever Into her veins, Lash out the coldness Till with a start, Half -blushing boldness Quickens her heart; [17] Burn her with wildness, Burn till the sting Rouses her mildness, Fires her with Spring! [18] 16 OH she is proud as the virtuous goddess Flashing a fate that is sterner than death ; Oh she is calm, and her blossoming bodice Never is swayed with a passionate breath. Oh she is cold as the Moon is to Pierrot Mocking his dreams and his wistful desires ; And she smiles like a Valkyr smiles on a hero, Watching and waiting the while he expires. Oh she is cruel, her spirit would harden An angel in tears on a comforting quest, But oh she is fair as the dawn in a garden And Beauty s the virtue surpassing the rest. [19] 17 "THE river turns to the peaceful breast Of the brooding sea, The red-bird turns to his mate in the nest, The bud to the bee ; Oh learn, my love, from this sweet unrest And turn to me. "The twilight sinks in the arms of sleep At the day s decline ; The spent winds softly sink as they weep In the arms of the pine Come down, oh love, from your frowning steep And sink into mine. "The breeze has a tale for the ear of the rose, And her fragrance is stirred ; The Spring has a secret that everyone knows But I have not heard ; Oh love, ere the miracle draws to its close, Whisper the word." [20] 18 WHEN she would go from me, can I reprove her; When she says "No," is there naught I can do ? Is she too young that my songs do not move her, Or is my tongue unaccustomed to sue? Ah, but I know of a way that is better, I will not show her my grief, but a smile Smilingly, when she would go, I will let her, Possibly then she will linger awhile. [21] 19 UNDER the stars the wistful, mild May stars In April-haunted skies, There comes a dream of storm and sudden cries, Of flashing faces, and the straining spars That gleam an instant by the pasture-bars And then the vision dies. Under the stars the wistful stars of May The farm sleeps silently. And oh what should this portent mean to me Here where the world is lost and slips away Oh what have I to do with storm and spray And children lost at sea! Under the stars and nothing moves that mars The landscape as it lies ; And yet I start among unanswered cries, Shipwreck and terror, pain and evil wars Under the stars the wistful, mild May stars In April-haunted skies. [22] 20 AWAY with doleful maundering, away with fret ful days, Away with all that smacks of grief, of tears and banners furled, An end to dull perplexities, an end to old dis mays, There is promise in her eyes there is prom ise in the world. Her mood is subtly changing ; she has whispers for me now; Her eyes meet mine more quickly, and more quickly leave my gaze. Her heart perhaps has melted to a word some where, somehow And the thought of her surrender is a thing that heals and slays. The thought of her surrender can it be, this breathless dream Is it not a barren splendor, a rainbow of the mind; Have I not been over-eager to discover in the gleam Of friendly looks and casual smiles, all that I hoped to find . . . [23] But away with vague imaginings, away with moon-struck Youth, An end to maudlin fancies this day I shall be free. Is it Love she means or jesting, is it mockery or truth? I shall mope and sigh no longer I shall ask her, I shall see! [24] 21 "TO-MORROW to-morrow to-morrow " It beats like a double refrain That blends with a challenge to sorrow, A burden of pain. To-morrow to-morrow to-morrow She said she would answer my prayer. And shall I go gently, or borrow A conquering air ... To-morrow to-morrow to-morrow And every hour is a year. Tis night and the daylight is far oh That morning were here. MY soul, if e er your eyes were moist, If cares have ever vexed your brow; My songs, if you have ever voiced A single, tender "thou" ; My heart, if e er you have rejoiced Be buoyant now. My soul, how could you ever doubt That she was less than all divine ; My heart and songs, how could ye flout My worship at her shrine ; For I am hers oh sing it out And she is mine. [26] DAWN and the vision glorious at last, I feel the sweep of life in every part, I hear the planets rushing through the vast, The mountain-rivers thunder in my heart. The earth is turned to leaping fire and flood, The skies, like waving banners, are unfurled, The winds, the seas, are pounding in my blood I am the wakened pulse of all the world. She is mine I am ocean and thunder, I am flame in a glory of flre, I am lifted with new-revealed wonder, With gladness too great to desire. Oh flre and flood, let me sweep her With love that no man can divine Oh stars, let me hold her and keep her, She is mine she is mine. Dusk and the vision glorious still glows, But softer, gentler on the world it lies ; I hear the hours whisper, and the rose Murmurs a breath of perfumed lullabies. I hear the crickets and the early stars Singing their songs amid the twilight-stir, v I see the rudest things without their scars, And I have felt the world because of her. [27] She is mine / am calmness and quiet, I am faith, I am peace in the night, I am hallowed with godhood, and by it We shall win to the worthiest height. Oh dusk, make me nobler and deeper With love that no man can divine Oh stars, let me hold her and keep her, She is mine she is mine! [28] LINGER awhile, oh day of happy tears, Of trembling gladness and of weeping joy; Linger awhile before the twilight fears And the forebodings^.of the night destroy All that my heart still hears. All that my heart still hears are broken words, Phrases and tones too sweet to be believed Half-sighs that fluttered from her lips like birds, Or like some poignant bit of song that grieved In lovely minor thirds. Day, when thou goest, each morn will seem to say Thou hast come back from strange and dis tant climes Thy face shall never fade nor pass away, And thou shalt be re-born a thousand times, Thrice happy, tearful day. [29] 25 Now leaps the lyric madness From field and sheltered grove; They sing about our gladness, They celebrate our love. Birds in the distant mountains Among the pine and fir, And laughing, leaping fountains, Are eloquent of her. Breezes that thread the passes Of forests far above, And leaves among the grasses, Whisper about our love. Rivers and brooks are theming Our numbers amorous, And lakes that lie a-dreaming Murmur and muse of us. Bells in the parish steeple Chant us with ringing tongues, And all the merry people Repeat our happy songs. But oh my soul is harried With this pervading doubt When we are dead and buried What will they sing about? [30] 26 DOWN in the vale the singing birds have nested ; I hear them every morning at their play Singing about our windows unmolested But thou and I are happier than they. Out in the woods I heard the breezes telling How glad they were now Spring had come to stay ; With light and happy airs their songs were swelling But thou and I are happier than they. Close by the lake I listened to the flowers Breathing their joy of every shining day; "None happier than we, no joy like ours" But thou and I are happier than they. Last night I heard two angels beat their pinions And sing "Praise God; His smile and gentle way Make us the happiest things in His domin ions " But thou and I are happier than they! [31] OUR love is like the soothing rain That follows clouds and thunders, It comes to fill the world again With fresh and blooming wonders. It sweeps away all baser things That flourished once unthwarted, And washes clean the low and mean Until they glow transported. Our love is like the kindly snow That covers great and small things, Whose very softness seems to throw A glamor over all things. It makes of every common spot A holy thing and tender, And every dark and ugly mark Is hidden by its splendor. Our love is like the steadfast sun, A force to fire and quicken The sluggish joys that feebly run Through all that droop or sicken. And yet, although we need it most, We see it never; knowing That none may gaze upon its face It is too great and glowing. [8*] WHO has heard the Night And the Silence singing, Who has heard the meadows ringing When the hills rejoice; Who has heard the bright Songs when stars are christened Every being who has listened To her voice. Who has seen how Sleep Ended Day s dissembling, Who has seen the wistful, trembling Souls of butterflies ; Who has seen the Deep When the skies dissever All the people who have ever Seen her eyes. Who has felt the birth Of all sweeping powers, Who has felt the thrill that towers To the worlds above ; Who has felt the earth When one dear head is nested Only /, for I have rested In her love. [88] 29 "ONLY of thee and me the nightwind sings, Only of us the sailors speak at sea, The earth is filled with wondered whisperings Only of thee and me. "Only of thee and me the breakers chant, Only of us the stir in bush and tree ; The rain and sunshine tell the eager plant Only of thee and me. "Only of thee and me, till all shall fade ; Only of us the whole world s thoughts can be- For we are Love, and God Himself is made Only of thee and me." [34] 30 OUR phrases fail, our very murmurs cease ; Held are our fancies in the simple thrall Of evening s solace and the twilight s peace Peace and a tender hush that seems to fall Like dark wings over all. A low wind falters, like a breath held back ; Faint rumblings die ; a distant window glows ; And even, as the hills turn softly black, The nightingale forgets to sing, foregoes His raptures to the rose. And now the stillness speaks to deep and height, And we with breathless bird and trembling star Worship while Silence sings and holds the Night; Silence, whose secret songs are fairer far Than God s own voices are. [35] 31 ROSES they are here ! Here in all their splendor, Royal and austere Delicate and tender ; Each and every kind June at last discloses Everywhere I look I find Roses roses. Rose whose heart is red Like the blood of heroes, Rose with yellow head, And the modest tea-rose, Grow beside the wall Or in garden closes, Till the teeming world is all Roses roses. Roses proud and bright, Scorning to be lowly, Roses meek and white, Holiest of the holy, Tell me is it true That, though none supposes, Summer decks her bed with you- Roses roses. [36] Roses pale and thin, Faintly touched with fire, Roses that have been Wedded to the briar, Overrun the land, For my joy reposes Here mid Song and Sunlight, and Roses, roses, roses. [37] 32 THEY say that she is fickle, That all my love is vain, That ere the shining sickle Is hushing down the grain, She will betray and show her Unfaithfulness to me How little do they know her, For that could never be. And so the foolish prattle Falls on a careless ear, For all their tales and tattle Are laughable to hear. Such gossip does not hold me ; For that she loves me well Her eyes and lips have told me- What more is there to tell? [38] I LOVE the murmur that begins Among the reeds and celloes, When all the varied violins Tune up among their fellows. I love the little pause for then What joy the short suspense is; But oh, the leaping pulses when The overture commences. I love each heart-beat of the drum, Each breath when flutes are dying, The world, I feel, is overcome When clarinets are sighing I love the grandiose sweep of strings That tears me with its passion (Save one) there are no nobler things For God or man to fashion. And this would be my dearest choice I would give Music s splendor To watch her sing to hear her voice In some old song and tender; I would give every trumpet-call To hear one ballad ringing From her who cannot sing at all And does not care for singing. [39] 34 DEAR, since we both are held in Love s command, Why all this idle speech and feigned sur prise ; See, see how near, how breathless-close we stand Open thy eyes ! Dear, thou art grown so careful of thy grace, Thou hoardest, like a miser, all thy charms ; Cease weighing every kiss and swift embrace, Open thy arms. Dear, I have gained thy heart but not thy side, Now must the struggle end, and thou give o er I am Love-crowned I cannot be denied, Open thy door! [40] 35 IN each other s arms we lay, In each other s arms we slumbered; And like waves, unknown, unnumbered Visions rose, and died away. And at last I woke and wept, Wept till I was worn and breathless ; Wept because I had been faithless I had sinned the while we slept. For I dreamt of woods astir, Moonlit seas and great expanses, Dreamt of music and romances And my dreams were not of her. [41] EVERY night I climb the stair, And with every fresh ascending Comes the moment of despair. Will she meet me will she dare And each night (oh happy ending) She is there! People fear the house they say It has stood unclaimed, unwanted Since a dying lover lay While he heard his love betray; Sprang up and the rooms are haunted To this day. But we come here where no eye Watches us, where all that hovers Over us is evening, shy Passion and a friendly sky What care we for faithless lovers, She and I? Splendidly Night sings one tune For us and all eager lispers ; And our voices falter, soon We sit trembling-dumb with June Then come longings, broken whispers And the moon. [42] 37 ONE perfect week one week of joy untainted When every daybreak whispered rapturous news, When Life and Love were gloriously painted In unimagined tones and sparkling hues, When we were gods or spirits newly sainted. One perfect week it ended but this morning, With all the dreams of a transfigured earth. They came again with tales and words of warn ing How that her love was light and little worth ; And oh I hearkened, I who had been scorning. One perfect week to think it should have ended To think that Spring had fired the earth in vain, That all the marching years serene and splen did, By one stray doubt should now be wholly slain. And yet cannot a shattered faith be mended? [43] 38 ONCE more are the glorious Wonders amassed Love was victorious, Doubt did not last. The days I abhorred Are forgotten and past ; Faith is restored. I feared to speak to her, I, with my shame Mournful and meek to her Slowly I came; I told of my doubt And awaited her blame ; She did not cry out. She grew not wild at me ; Shaking her head She only smiled at me Softly, and said, "Words, words, my adored, Here are kisses instead" Thus Faith was restored. [44] 39 I TOSS upon my bed, am burned and chilled She sits beside me sometimes, smoothes my hair, And even as she tends me, phantoms stare And whisper shameful things I thought were stilled. "My love (she speaks and what has changed her smile) I must be going (can these be her kisses) I have been here an hour quite a while For such a clear and joyful day as this is" About my head the grinning planets waltz, And nameless things point at her lips with scorn; I try to call, to cry out "It is false" But something chokes me I am sick and worn. [45] 40 LAST night we walked among the paths of air; The earth with all its rude and ancient scars Had faded out, and there was nothing there But starlight and the stars. Each star stood planted like a budding shoot, And on the ground of Heaven a crescent lay- Lay like the rind of some exotic fruit A god had thrown away. And further still we wandered till we came Upon the very burning edge of space, And saw the unborn worlds still wrapped in flame Hiding God s face. And then my soul in agony and fear Turned to my love; but oh, my love had gone The skies were empty, terrible and drear And I was there alone! [46] 41 "WHILE the world is soothed with sleep, Wrapped in fever I am lying, And I hear the angels weep Who is it that lies a-dying?" "Dearest, dearest, What thou hearest Are the winds that wander sighing." "Nay, for I can see his face, Burning with its fearful story; Look it glares at me through space Like a death-head, scarred and gory." "Dearest, dearest, What thou fearest Is the moon in all its glory" "Woman, hush ; I hear him now Crying I have come to kill thee. And his blade is at my brow ; Now does fear and anguish fill thee?" "Dearest, dearest Twas the merest Touch I kissed thy brow to still thee." 42 COME, oh Love, my best physician, Help me I am sore distressed; Come and cure this wild suspicion That is tearing in my breast ; Rid me of this premonition Give me rest. Thoughts that thrust my heart like sabers, Take them all away with you Let me face the meddling neighbors Let me tell the carping crew "See in spite of all your labors Tis not true !" 43 AUTUMN has come to-day I heard it all Aye, while the woodland spirits held their breath The young trees trembled and a birch let fall Some yellow leaves in nervous fear of death. Yet Summer lives within my heart, for still The lover s magic lingers in her lips, And oh she charms away the thoughts that chill With songs of Springtime in her finger-tips. [49] 44 UNDER the cover of the soothing Night, I bared my heart with all its woe ; I bared my heart that she might know The fears that poisoned each delight, And why I suffered so. Under the cover of the soothing Night, I told my trouble like a child In broken sentences and wild, She was not moved with eyes still bright She looked at me and smiled. Under the cover of the soothing Night, My love and I in anger went, And when my storm of words was spent Her hand within my hand lay light And I was well content. [50] 45 WHEN the Dusk enshrouds Visions sharp and hateful, When Night s blurring fingers Smooth each tawdry spot, Then the heavy clouds Lift and leave me grateful, And the fear that lingers Is forgot. When the day is near And an hour thereafter Still the earth inherits Peace and calm delight, Then afresh and clear Comes her sunny laughter And my stricken spirits Long for Night. [51] 46 AN hour before the challenging gleam Of dawn that heralds the day, My love awoke in the midst of a dream And turned to where I lay. I felt her breath grow wild and warm And her arms about me twine, And she whispered a name as she turned to my arm A name that was not mine. And then she slept at my breast as fast As though she were never so dear; But I knew that the glory of Love had passed, And I knew that the end was near. 47 SHE has left me for a while Not in anger or in passion Left me, saying with a smile, "Love is out of fashion ; Tis a garment only meant For the minstrel and romancer" And I watched her as she went, Struggling, speechless for an answer. Now I wander to and fro, Up and down the ruined orchard, And I rave and scarcely know Why I am so tortured. Does she mean to tear my heart All afresh with this new flaying, Or, I wonder, is it part Of a game she tires in playing. [53] 48 I SENT her a fortnight ago A lily, a rose and a song ; Three fair little symbols to show That Love had forgiven the wrong. And I said to the flowers, "Be fair," And I said to the song, "Be my voice 1 ; And I took and I placed them with care In a book that had made her rejoice. To-day she returned them to me Unanswered, untouched and untried And I wept, when I found them, to see My three little tokens had died. Voiceless they died in the dark, The flowers for lack of a tongue ; But the song had the soul of a lark And the song had not even been sung. [54] MY soul is sick of roses, Of lilies proud and pale In scented garden closes The old-time beauties fail. And though the spell reposes On every flower that grows, My soul is sick of roses Since she has scorned the rose. My soul is sick of singing, Of whispered strains and sighs ; Like kisses cloyed but clinging, The spell of Music dies. And though the world is ringing With all its lyric tongues, My soul is sick of singing Since she has scorned my songs. [55] 50 WHEN the August days were in April mood I mind a morning of amethyst, When the slender trees on the hill-top stood, Ghosts of green in the silver mist. The scene is the same it is August still There s mist but I look for the magic in vain ; The dawn is a blur, and there loom on the hill Ghosts of gray in the sagging rain. [56] 51 MOUNT up my songs, mount up to her Upon your winged phrases ; Each lyric be a chorister That only chants her praises. Oh steal into her thoughts and sing The strains that used to win her, Until you have revived the Spring And found the heart within her. [57] 52 NIGHT, sing to her All of thy songs. Night, bring to her Dreams that will cling to her, Dreams that will move her with tears for my wrongs. Night, sing to her. Night, care for her All of her sins, Night, bear for her Beauty s a prayer for her, Beauty s a prayer which she ends and begins Night, care for her. Night, sing to her All that has lain Like a dead thing to her Bring the lost Spring to her; Sing the heart back to her bosom again Night, sing to her. [58] "Love s a garment only meant For the minstrel and romancer." This is all that she has sent To my pleadings as an answer. How the words come back again, Still as careless, still as bitter Like a harsh and mocking strain Played upon a tinkling zither. Like a prisoner chained alone, Dullness binds me, wrist and ankl< All the evil thoughts are gone But the words remain and rankle. "Love s a garment (so it went) For the minstrel and romancer " Aye the robe was never meant For the nightshift of a dancer. [59] 54 I HATE her soul tis like some poisoned flower A blight, a curse, a brand upon her brow ; But never, even in our dearest hour, Were all her charms as maddening as now. [60] 55 IF God last night had raised His hand And suddenly withdrawn the light, If He had swept the stars like sand Into a corner of the night; If He had held the meteors back And torn the moon from out the skies, The darkness would have been less black Than was the earth before my eyes. All day I heard an evil wind Echo a thousand hateful views, In every face I seemed to find The bearer of some dreaded news. All day in mad review there passed Portents and rumors wild and drawn, And then the dream come true at last Her house was dark and she was gone. Gone and I sink beneath the press Of bitterness that naught controls; Gone and this petty faithlessness Destroys a universe of souls ; It shakes one s faith in all things pure, It taints with cynic gall the sweet If love like hers cannot endure, Is life itself as much a cheat? [61] 56 GOD I can scarcely grasp it yet, It is too black to be; The ways are darkness, fear-beset, And not a hand is reached to me I knew the world might leave me thus, But of all others she ! If I could only curse and smite If I could only rail But here I sit alone and write The thoughts that make me gasp and pale ; Wild and blaspheming things I write, And watch the sunset fail. I watch the scattered little swarm Troop homeward through the mists, And there a boy has claimed an arm Of one who smiles and scarce resists How long until she plays him false, I think, and clench my fists. And here, another happy two Come talking secretly. Oh lad, before this month is through, Whose will her fluttering glances be Love lightly then, with laughing lips, But never love like me. [62] Lest all day in a cankered mind Distrust war with despair; Lest evil conquer, and you find In eyes that once seemed clean and fair Deceit, the mockery of Love And falseness eve^where. God I can scarcely grasp it yet, It is too black to be; The ways are darkness, ~f ear-be set, And not a hand is reached to me / knew the world might leave me thus But of all others She! [63] 57 GOD made her when he dreamed his fairest dream, And called the angels that they might re joice; God sang into her heart, and lo, the theme Lives in her swaying voice. God made her when He breathed His softest word, Shaping her gentler than His gentlest ways ; God blessed her, and the very suns were stirred To rapture at her gaze. God is so good He would not harm a flower, At evil only His creation halts Oh then what spirit, what malignant power Could make her soul so false? [64] 58 SHE loved me? Nay, she never did, She only played at loving; Her heart was quite too small and light For aught but mild reproving. I knew it even from the first, Ere she grew cold and ashen For when we kissed I felt we missed The nobler part of Passion. There were no bonds of common cares, No dreams, no kin devotions And in her heart there was no part For wild and deep emotions. Love? It was but a little gift One gives to each newcomer It was a thing that came with Spring And went within a Summer. [65] 59 OH who are we that we are given Love What whim of God s was this that we should know A leaping fervor and a fearless glow That is not known above ; We are not clean and pure enough a race To look upon its face. Oh who are we that we should have all this This joy, this glory, this divine appeal, This fire that God Himself can never feel, This sudden power and bliss. Why are we burned and blessed and burdened thus It is too great for us. [66] 60 IN the woods the little elves Hide themselves Under mossy rock and mound, Under ground; And they frolic as they play Through the night and all the day Merrily the little elves Sport themselves. When an elfin (so they say) Loves a fay They will kiss and find a grot And if not, Neither sighs nor pines away, Neither ceases from its play . . . Oh, what things could men themselves Learn from elves! [67] 61 TwAs in the sunny weather I threw my heart away, I tossed it to the Springtime, and the thou sand shapes of joy And who should chance to find it but a woman who, they say, Had lacked a heart herself and so she took the pretty toy. Twas in the cloudy weather I found my heart again ; It came back to my window, complaining bit terly It came back bruised and begging, haggard and torn with pain ; But I laughed and let it perish what use was it to me? [68] A MEETING a sighing- A deal of lament A little denying A final consent A kiss and a quarrel "Oh Powers above !" The tale has no moral And this is Love. [69] 63 YEA, though I hate her with a deathless hate, I shall not curse at her nor yet her kind ; For who would rail and scoff at one whose fate Was to be maimed or blind? Such lives receive our pity not our scorn, We help them make their broken pleasures whole ; And shall I harm her then she who was born A weak and crippled soul? [70] 64 BREEZES, be still Bear not her perfidy abroad, Lest birds that innocently thrill Should cease to sing with God. Flowers, be brave Fade now and never bloom again, Lest happy hearts should find you grave And learn your secret pain. Stars, close your eyes Do not betray the world s disgrace, Lest ocean lift up to the skies A horror-stricken face. Dreams, you must die No more my bitter thoughts shall move, Lest all an outraged world deny The miracle of Love. [71] 65 THROUGH Time unborn, undying, The waters wail and weep, They never cease from crying They cannot even sleep. Their anguished cry is heard in The heaven and earth below, And none may know their burden And none may know their woe, But I who would be lying Where they, my brothers, weep, Who never cease from crying And cannot even sleep. [72] 66 UNREST is laid upon me like a blight. When I recall her wrong, her false embrace, A sudden fury shakes me in the night And then the quiet beauty of her face. Mood follows mood; my world is overcast With too much brooding on a woman s frown ; Enough of lonely sorrow and at last I have gone to the town. Faces, everywhere faces; surge on surge The human billows thunder through the street ; What ocean trembling upon what a verge, What roaring seas, what tides that storm and beat. Faces and towers, cars and women whirl Everywhere, endless till my senses seem Lost amid odors, lights and sounds that swirl As in a dizzy dream. A dream that I have dreamed and now made plain That nightmare flash beneath the mild May stars ! Here are the straining faces, here the pain, Here are the shipwrecks and the evil wars. [73] Here do I move among unanswered cries, Here in the town of lives outlived and vain, The dream, the storm, the fear, the strange-lit skies, Sweep over me again. And I had come for pleasure, for relief, To gaudy crowds and over-brilliant lights Better the gray field and the quiet grief Than this loud mockery of city nights. The veins of town are poisoned with decay, Its heart is throbbing with a futile stir . . . What must the city do to those that stay What has it done to her? [74] 67 I WANDER homeward, many a mile, Alone and in the noon of night ; The Moon accosts me with a smile I am so pale and white. "Why are you here," She asks me, "Why Do you not slumber ere I wane?" Alas She does not know that I Can never sleep again. The houses stand a somber host, No sound the dreaming night invades; And like a mournful moonlit ghost I steal among the shades. There s not a soul that roams abroad The shadows crouch austere and stark, The very trees are overawed And huddle in the dark. There s not a star but finds its lake Night pillows every restless head, And I alone am left awake Oh God that I were dead ! [75] 68 THERE S a garden, a vale Where no nightingale sings, And it nurtures the pale, And the strangest of things, For the folk are all drones And the trees have no boughs In the Valley of Bones. There s a garden that blooms With the tears of distress, And the trees are the tombs That will never grow less, And the flowers are stones That blossom and blanch In the Valley of Bones. There s a garden that blooms Where all bitter things cease; A vale that assumes All the beauties of Peace, For no one atones, And no one repents, In the Valley of Bones. [76] 69 I STOOD within the city of the dead And walked awhile among the little coombs, The winds of dawn were waking as I read The legends on the tombs. Here was the mausoleum of a priest, Here were the graves of those who fought and bled, And here lay one who builded West and East His was a splendid bed. But only one it was that made me pause A granite slab scarce two feet high and wide, Hidden away, because its owner was A common suicide. And there I sat, and wondered why he died, And watched the weary stars grow dull and dim; And how I yearned to have him at my side To sit and talk with him [77] 70 ALL, night long I heard the rain Calling me Wake and weary, worn with pain, All night long I heard the rain Sobbing to the same refrain Endlessly. And when I could bear no more, When the call Grew into a frenzied roar, I arose, and blindly swore I would end it have it o er Once for all ... In the streets I woke from swoon Suddenly ; For the rain had changed its tune To a simple, soothing croon And a kindly mother-moon Smiled on me. And into the night, my mad Thoughts were hurled. Like a child that has been bad ; Somewhat shamed and somewhat sad Back I crept, at peace and glad With the world. 71 THANKS to God I did not die After my despair; Yesterday, bewildered, I Saw the world turn fair. Saw my lost one saw her face After all these years. Lo, and as she met my gaze In her eyes were tears. Tears in eyes that never wept ! Tears that naught could start! Oh what miracle had swept Skies to wake her heart. Something, not of her control, Changed her even now; Something finer call it soul Lay upon her brow. Thanks to God I did not die In that bitter mood ; Thanks to God indeed that I Saw that life was good, Saw that still my hopes might breast Countless waves of years Aye, for God Himself has blessed Love re-born in tears. [79] 72 THE world is ours again Ours is the heavenly rout For, as the healing rain Freshens the rose, Sadness has made us whole After the bitter drought, And the despairing soul Blossoms and glows. Sing, heart, sing, lips, sing, promise of the mor row, Love is not Love that has not tasted sorrow. All, all is ours again The hour with wonder fraught The passions near to pain We feel anew; For lovers need the years Of tender speech and thought, But Love itself needs tears And suffering too. Sing, heart, sing, lips, sing, promise of the mor row, Love is not Love that has not tasted sorrow. [80] The world is ours again The world and its belief; The purpose is made plain Below, above. It only needed this This miracle of grief To make our wayward bliss A perfect Love. Sing, heart, sing, lips, sing, promise of the mor row, Love is not Love that has not tasted sorrow. [81] ENVOY So end the lyrics of my earliest passion First love, with all its fever and its -fears So wakes the new love in a nobler fashion, So die the little griefs and shallow tears. But Joy will live and Spring can never perish Youth in my heart will burn until I die; And all the beauties that my soul may cherish WiU fill a richer earth and vaster sky. For now Love comes with all the early fire, The exultation and the leaping joy, Blended with something homelier and higher Peace and a faith the years cannot destroy. [83] THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO 5O CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. NOV 3 1J33 NOV 4 1933 ^te w -^TTT .-..,... , ., ^v-^ U4 Dfc C 211845 MAY 14 1968 LD 21-100m-7, 33 f -t> U. C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES 305241 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY