UC-NRLF B 3 13b ^DD Q) ■R)(7(ARP- POEMS BY RICHARD EDWIN DAY CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited 104 & 106 Fourth Avenue, New York Copyright, 1888, By R. £. DAY. Press W. L. Mershon & Co., Rahway, N. J. CONTENTS. The Wall of the Temple, Eloi Lama Sabachthani, Hymn to the Mountain, - Night, . . - The Hymn of Fire, The Coral Tree, Katydid, Spain, . . - Love's Troubadour, To Shakespeare, To Swinburne, Niagara, - - - The Timid Guest. - Hepaticas, May Morning, Dandelions, Daisies, Coquettes, Unattained, - The Poppy, The Lady Slipper, - page. 9 - i6 19 22 26 - 29 32 - 34 36 - 37 38 - 39 43 - 44 45 - 47 49 - 51 53 - 55 56 938583 VI CONTENTS. Golden-rod, - - - - - - 57 Gold, .-..--- 58 Sapphires, ------- 60 The Night Wanderers, - - - - 62 Shells, - - - - - - - 65 To a Christmas Tree, _ . - - 67 The Blooming of the Calla, - - - 69 Whispers of the Forest, - - - 71 The Toad, -..----74 Vanagod's Bride, ----- 75 Apocalyptic, - - - - - - 83 To the Rose, . _ . . . 85 Silence, -.-----86 Limitation, ..--.- 88 Discovery, - - - - - - 90 Reconciled, ------ 92 Compensation, - - - - - - 93 Uriel, ------- 94 The Diver, . - - - - - 97 Lines on the Emperor Moth, - - - 98 The Last Banquet Song, - - - - loi The Rambler, ----- 106 Hymn to the Sun, - - - - - iii A Reunion, ------ 115 England, ------- 119 Blood of New England, - - - - 120 Sounds of the Temple. - - - - 122 ' , ' c. '. . ' > THE WALL OF THE TEMPLE. T7R0M this gray pile of crumbling stone, ■'■ Within whose ancient crevices Are grasses wandering from the sun - This wall that lists to Israel's moan And voice of plaintful litanies — Once soared the fane of Solomon ; Hard by, Jehovah's holy priests Sent curling upward to His throne The smoke of feasts. Grand was the dwelling of our God ! In stone from Tyrian quarries brought, Cedar and fir from Lebanon ; With nameless glory winged and shod, O'er twenty cubits' space were wrought The cherubim of Solomon ; Shrewd palm-trees of the sculptor told ; And all o'erlaid from roof to sod With Ophir's gold. lo THE WALL OF THE TEMPLE. Rare booty had the heathen horde Whose chariots up from Shinar rolled, And wanton vale of Babylon. Strange harvests with barbarian sword — Fruitage of precious stones and gold — Reaped charioteer and myrmidon ; And golden bowls of use divine Took Babylonia's impious lord For revel and wine. In the world-old shadow of thy face, That through the Haram es-Sherif Creeps backward from the prying sun, Thy glories flit with ghostly pace, Or brood in apparition brief, O desolate wall of Solomon : Even as we kneel, with shoes put off, Out of the crannies at thy base Do they not scoff ? THE WALL OF THE TEMPLE. Ii iW'ithin these stones a heart should beat ; And from these gray-lipped crevices, To patience and to silence won, A breath of gracious speech should fleet Amid thy stony sanctities, O desolate fane of Solomon ! Speak, sacred wall, Jehovah's will ! Our fathers' dust beneath our feet Is not more still. Fled all the efiluence Divine, Nor left one animating breath, — One lingering, pitying benison, — When Judah saw her hill-tops shine To Moloch and to Ashtoreth, The gods of doting Solomon ; Bowed her to alien teraphim, And garnished the voluptuous shrine Of Baalim? 12 THE WALL OF THE TEMPLE. The god of iron and of clay, Image of silver and of brass, Idol of gold that dims the sun, Still, Judah, leads thy feet astray — The same that withered up as grass The noon-tide strength of Babylon. Like drops of water through his hands The kingdoms slip, or flow away Like trickling sands. Yet saw the seer upon this rock. Which Islam's domes unhallowed hem, The tabernacle's wandering blaze. While to thy risen gates did flock Nations with palms, Jerusalem, Bringing like Sheba's queen their praise. And Zion's house from Lebanon Reached down to where the billows mock Sad Askelon. THE WALL OF THE TEMPLE. 13 Shall we not come in eager ranks, As they who raised the prostrate shrine With Ezra and Zerubbabel, While psalteries ring exultant thanks, And singers of a chosen line Rejoice the steps of Israel, Faring from Danube and from Don, From western Babels and the banks Of Amazon ? Here Canaan's corn and vineyards boon A-ripeningburn as when unfurled The landscape lay in Moses' sight ; Or when long past the night's dread noon Did Joshua smite the pagan world. Scourging the Amorites' leagued might, While paused on solemn Gibeon Jhe crimson sun, and the white moon In Ajalon. 14 THE WALL OF THE TEMPLE. No gift we bring but souls that tire, — Dead altar of Jerusalem, — Building anew the living wall ; The harp whose strings with jubilant fire Leaped when the psalmist spake to them Hangs mute where its own echoes call, — As, where Euphrates' waters run, Pulseless and still swung Judah's lyre In Babylon. No sound starts from thy quivering lips, Judea, seated in this court, With eyes that turn, and turn in vain. To where the freights of Tarshish's ships, Rocking in Tyre's or Zidon's port. Wound inland o'er the northern plain, Save the lament Hilkiah's son Chanted, with sack-cloth on his hips, In Babylon. THE WALL OF THE TEMPLE. i5 Not thine the lamentation drear ; Sharper than that sad prophet's wail, Whose trumpet syllables had pealed On an unlistening nation's ear, And rolled away down Kedron's vale, Were thy heart's cry, were it unsealed ; Not thine this wailful orison, Heard ere rang round thy ramparts here Rome's clarion. The ruthless steps of morning fall Across the Dead Sea's barriers ; From the great Kubbet es-Sukrah An hour ago the muezzin's call Unto the Moslem worshipers Startled the sacred court ; and, ah ! Another paynim day beats on The sanctuary and the wall Of Solomon. 1 6 ELOl LAMA SABACHTHANL ELOI LAMA SABACHTHANL "IT THEN the scourged Messiah hung At the malefactors' side, Pierced by Israel's scoffing tongue, Once in awful woe he cried, Through the darkness of the cross, ^'' Eloi lama sabachthani V Down the ages that have sped, Down the Calvarys of time, From that mocked and thorn-wreathed head. Comes to us the plaint sublime, Comes the murmur of the cross, " Elol lama sabachthanil " ELOI LAMA SABACHTHANI. I? Often, when the night is loud, And the tempest moans along Like a ghost without a shroud. Rings that cry of sorrow strong From the Christ upon the cross, "■ Eloi lama sabachthani ? " And I dream that human kind, Nailed upon the tree of pain. Breathes its anguish on the wind, Breathes that bitter, bitter strain, Steeped in hyssop of the cross, " £/oi lama sabachthani ? " From the couch where sickness shakes Its wan victim, from the hell Where the maniac shrieks and quakes. From the doomed man's solemn cell, Speaks the burden of the cross, •* Eloi lama sabachthani ? " l8 ELOI LAMA SABACHTHANI. From the heart that breaks above Coffined plight or virtue's dust, From the lips of her whom love Cheated of a woman's trust, Falls that question of the cross, " Eloi latna sabachthani ? " From the hero when he dies While his cause in clouds goes down, From the patriot when he buys Only curses for his crown. Bursts the loud moan of the cross, " Eloi lama sabachthani 2 " Thus, in sorrow's sacred tongue. All across the buried years. From the souls that have been wrung By a grief too deep for tears, Sounds the v/ail that shook the cross, *' Eloi lama sabachthani "i ' ' HYMN TO THE MOUNTAIN. 19 HYMN TO THE T/IOUNTAIN. ^1 HTHIN the hollow of thy hand — * '' This wooded dell half up the hight, Where streams take breath mid-way in flight Here let me stand. Here warbles not a lowland bird, Here are no babbling tongues of men ; Thy rivers rustling through the glen Alone are heard. Above, no pinion cleaves its way, Save when the eagle's wing, as now, With sweep imperial shades thy brow Beetling and gray. 20 HYMN TO THE MO UA TAIN. The happy vapors, where they lie, Look upward to thy blue intense, And in the glory scattered thence Worship and die. Thine is serenity complete ; Tempests and thunders jar below. And rain-drops curve their radiant bow Even at thy feet. What thoughts are thine, majestic peak ? And moods that were not born to chime With poet's ineffectual rhyme And numbers weak ? The green Earth spreads thy gaze before. And the unfailing skies are brought Within the level of thy thought. There is no more. HYMN TO THE MOU.\TAIN. 21 The stars salute thy rugged crown With syllables of twinkling fire ; Like choral burst from distant choir Their psalm rolls down. And I, within this temple niche, Like statue set where prophets talk, Catch strains they murmur as they walk. And I am rich. 2 2 NIGHT, NIGHT. THE jocund voices of the day are dead, And softer melodies show the world alive. The night-hawk cries his plaintful note o'er head, Cleaving the purple air with circling dive ; A whippoorwill the hush of forests breaks ; The frogs sing gravely, while the rushes hark, Along the marge of faintly glimmering lakes ; The river softly murmurs, wandering in the dark. I am alone with thee, O Night ; I turn. And everywhere the serried shadows creep From out the vastness of thy sable urn, And settle on the landscape like a sleep. XIGHT. 23 Yet in thy somber coming is no fear, Nor do I tremble as I feel thy face ; For when thy strong arms are about me here, Within me and around thou mak'st a quiet place. Thou comest like the peace of God to still The warriors' rage and arms v/hich warriors wield, Or soothe their wounds with tender lips and chill. Yet lie we all a-wounded on some field, Or languish in some battle's heat, or lag Pursuing some fleet victory never won ; And glance with yearning where thy darkling flag Flings out a tardy truce above the sunken sun. Now would I, weary of such vanity, Lean on thy strength, invisible friend, and rest, While thoughts within my heart sing tenderly, As chirp the evening birds in drowsy nest. 24 NIGHT, Visions the daylight mantled in its glare, Like still stars rise upon the spirit's view ; And far away flies heavy-winged care, Like some slow night-bird lost along the shadowy blue. Ah, Night, companion only of great souls, Wisdom and reverence brood above thy throne. When thy dark chariot through the welkin rolls. Drawn by the white steeds of the milky zone ; Or when thick shades pavilion thee about, As the last camp-fires of the routed sun Upon the hill-tops of the west burn out, The thoughts of God are thine, and on thy message run. Thine orbs in the chaste ether flash and daze. Fair as the smile of woman thou art. Night, Enamouring with such radiance mortal gaze, And even as transitory is thy light. NIGHT. 25 Soon, soon thy noiseless wheels afar retire, While on the kindling sea and on the land, "With cloud about him and with feet of fire, The strong archangel of the dawn is seen to stand. 26 * THE HYMN OF FIRE. THE HYMN OF FIRE. IT is told, in the Brahmins' traditions Of music's mysterious morn, That Brahma in souls of musicians, Unsullied by passion and scorn, Breathed marvelous hymns as they slept ; But one for his angels he kept : The hymn that in heaven is chanted At night by a numberless choir. When the glimmers of tapers are slanted To earth like the strings of a lyre. And the whispers of minstrelsy sweep Round the meadows and mansions of sleep. THE HYMN OF FIRE A mighty king, envying heaven The bliss of that melody blown Along the blue arches of even, Up to the high gods on their throne, Entreated his harper to bring By his magic that strain for his king. On his harp leans the youth as he lingers, While mute is the glittering throng ; On the quivering chords are his fingers — Will he wake the ineffable song ? One ravishing note, for reply, Like a bird sped away to the sky. All the glory of song and the pleasure The heart of the minstrel inspire. And he strikes in impetuous measure The night-angels' carol of fire, W^hose echoing sometimes is clear When slumber rests soft on the ear. 28 THE HYMN OF FIRE. But why, when the music is sobbing With burdens of exquisite joy, And the glorified harp, it is throbbing, Stops in wonder the hand of the boy ? And why does the sovereign gaze, And the captains, in stony amaze ? Out of the welkin descending, Across the clear firmament came, In silence its pathway extending, A cloud like a chariot of flame — A chariot and horses of light ; And the harper was lifted from sight. Mortal fain the immortal would capture, And the concords of heaven would tame. Though descend, with the glow of his rapture, The horses and chariot of flame, When Brahma, in pity or ire, Sends down the strong anthem of fire. THE CORAL TREE. 29 THE CORAL TREE. OUT of the gardens of the deep, Out of the orchards of the sea — Farther than ever storm-keels sweep — Blossomed the coral tree. It spread its pomp of foliage wide, It climbed a league of twilight dim, Its roots where foul sea-monsters glide. Its top where great ships swim. The sunsets shot their level fire Across the summit of its boughs, And from its clusters red and dire Huge navies turned their prows. 30 THE CORAL TREE, Among its twigs green islands grew, Where flowers enchain the feet of spring, And sea-weed loiters, and the mew Folds her adventurous wing. But they that wrought the coral leaf, And set its everlasting bloom, Beneath the island and the reef Died, in the stilly gloom. Life was for them a stinted dole — A little time, a little room, A trackless way, a viewless goal, The garnishing a tomb. Thus, human toilers toward the light. Ye change your living flesh to stone, And perish in the silent night, Unhonored and unknown. THE CORAL TREE. 3 1 Yet evermore, as well as they, The generations of the sea, Ye build, 'mid tempest and decay Your monumental tree. 32 KATYDID. KATYDID. VTES, Katy did. Yet, knew I what she ^ did — The thing that trembles on thy tongue for aye, Frail gossip by the couch of dying day — Silence should fold the deed long years have hid. Who may uplift oblivion's massive lid ? Or break the kindly clods above her clay ? That all the fault was hers — ah ! who shall say ? Or show that in her time she went unchid ? Katy, methinks, was one whose deep offense, Not hers alone, brought the world's recom- pense KATYDID. ZZ Of shame and laid it all at her one door ; While smouldered God's pursuing wrath within. But now God's peace (Hush, prattler, harp no more.) Like a white cerement mantles Katy's sin. 34 SPAIN. SPAIN. TT ARK ! sack-clothed nun pressing the clois- ter stone ; For Freedom, like some meadow-cheering thrush, Under thy grating, in the morning's flush, Carols of gladsome things to thee unknown. Lusty and tall thy childhood's mates have grown ; They run where breezes blow and fountains gush, While thou dost hide where bat-like terrors rush, Number a rosary or kiss a bone. Quit the foul relics of thy moldy cell, SPAIN. 35 Break the long vigil of thy sunless brow ; The green hills lying yonder ever tell More than these tottering walls can utter now ; And Freedom breathes on them who take her vow A kindlier benison than convent bell. 36 LOVE'S TROUBADOUR. LOVE'S TROUBADOUR. WHEN walks thy soul before her mirrors blue, Or drapes those bonny orbs in bashful gloom Till all the place is dark they did illume, She speaks a language I would fain construe ; A speech that was ere Babel's tower grew, That never was confused in Babel' doom, And in the eyes of youth its Eden bloom Perpetuates to make the sear world new. I well can conjugate a maiden's glance, Her heart's soft dialect can understand, And stammer in the lover's warm Romance. A troubadour, I come from desert land. And, kneeling at the lattice of thine eyne. Plead in the sonnet's fourteen strings divine. TO SHAKESPEARE. TO SHAKESPEARE. 'T^HOU, who didst lay all other bosoms bare, '*■ Impenetrable shade didst round thee throw; And of the ready tears thou makest flow, Monarch of tears, thou hast not any share. Sad Petrarch, sadder Byron their despair Unlocked, their dismal theaters of woe Unclpsed : thou showest Hamlet, Romeo And maddened Lear, with tempest on his hair. Hadst thou no suffering men's tears could suage ? No comedy of thine own life, shut in ? No lurid tragedy — perhaps of sin — That walked with muffled steps its curtainec' stage ? Confession troubles ne'er thy godlike look ; Thou art, thyself, thy one unopened book. 38 TO SWINBURNE. TO SWINBURNE. QTRONG Voice, that chantest love and liberty ^ So that we hear o'er undertones of waves ; Voice freer than the sea-bird's when it braves The shout and boisterous trumpets of the sea. No other lip doth so melodiously, Lulling or lifting souls of kings or slaves, Praise love, or thunder in immortal staves This oracle. The light shall make men free. Ah ! wouldst thou as divinely sing of faith ! Wouldst sing of God as thou dost sing of man ! Wouldst thrill the gravest string of Nature's chords. And with the notes of life the note of death ! Wouldst mingle freedom, love and faith, one plan ! And be in Song's domain supreme of Lords ! NIAGARA. 39 NIAGARA. "QIVER that runnest with tempestuous note, With rioting eddies and tumultuous tide And maelstroms struggling in the chasm's throat, A thousand tempests in thine onset ride ; A thousand storms, whose thunders never died When o'er the misty meadows of the air The volleying clouds were scattered far and wide, Charge in mad wheel, like furious horsemen where Their frothing squadrons plunge around the embattled square. 40 NIAGARA. But as thy waters throng the sheer decline, What image in the mind's fantastic world — Of mighty cavalry down some path malign, Unseen, unguessed, with trampling turmoil whirled ; Or of innumerable bison hurled Before the hunters to a canon's deep, And myriads on rushing myriads swirled Over the maddening and horrid steep — But sinks before thy unimaginable sweep ! Far other is the vision of thy strength Where the dire tumults fail in murmurs low : Like level-lying lawns is thy green length, And meadow-white the great foam-blossoms blow. Beside thy bank, which evergreens o'ergrow, Most like a flower - strewn Titan thou dost dream — After some vast primeval labor's throe — NIAGARA. 41 And the far cataract's snows glide and gleam Thicker than star-foam on the Milky Way's dark stream. Methinks, brave river, muttering in thy jar Ponderous syllables of an age-old tongue, — Heir of some boisterous sea once billowing far, Strength of the old world's loins when time was young, I hear thee faintlier chant a paean flung Along thy footpath, in Earth's rugged prime, When from a grander steep thy challenge rung, And vapors rose on pillars more sublime To where thy rainbow's unsubstantial arches climb. Emblem of youth eternal, in whose course A thousand years are as the vasty surge That every moment crashes, loud and hoarse, Into the torment of the whelming gurge, 42 NIAGARA. Why do thy floods such march impetuous urge ? No sovereign voice exhorts thy restless tide In one impatient hour its life to merge, Lest some unconquered good may yet abide When thy spent waters in the solemn sea subside. Thy lips do swallow up my tiny voice ; My thoughts lie baffled in thy torrent's spell. Yet in thy shock and riot I rejoice, Type of humanity when life did well Lavish and buoyant as thy chanting swell, When all its days to stormy music ran. Unconscious of the sea-goal seaward fell ; When laughter like thy spray flew in its van ; And as thy chainless flow was the free heart of man. THE ThMlD GUEST. 43 THE TIMID GUEST. A T last a glad nymph turns her violet eyes ^ Upon the land ; against the northern skies Winter his white tent moves from hill to hill. He camped but yester where this jocund rill, Its broken fetters melting in the sun, Rings tiny bells in pastures bare and dun Spring parleys long within her viewless halls, Mistrusting any truce the south-wind calls ; The sky must sign full treaty with the earth Before the meadow quivers with her mirth. Or from a woodland covert she will lean, All sprinkled with birch-buds and winter-green. 44 HEP A TIC A S. HEPATICAS. TJEPATICAS, your shy humility -■■-■■ Is like the lowlihood of lesser stars, That veil their lamps at sight of fiery Mars And Aldebaran flaming ruddily. You never lit a rich man's festal day, Or sent your rifled sweetness to the mart ; But where the gentle and the meek of heart Steal forth, you bloom to greet them as they stray. A rood of shadow under woodland spires, Of violets, your blue-eyed confidantes. Of moss and pebbles where a brooklet slants Is your wide world, as wide as your desires. MA y MORNIXG. 45 MAY MORNING. nPHROUGH the apple-boughs are breaking ■■■ Vernal snow-flakes into sight, Where a torpid soul, awaking, Blossoms into green and white. Gently is the rustling meadow Into grassy ripples cast, — And across it lies the shadow Of yon tall tree like a mast. Hark ! It is the oriole's matin Stirs the morning's prayerful calm. Never saintly maid in Latin Chanted half so sweet a psalm. 46 MAY MORNING. 'Mid a burst of unsealed voices Sounds no harsh, affected note ; All beneath the sky rejoices With one glorious tongue and throat. Let the Mystery that bideth Underneath the clod of things] — In whose heart the floweret hideth The shy life from which it springs — ■ Touch me with the exultation That doth mead and orchard fill, May's o'er-bubbling inspiration, Or let me be fitly still. DANDELIONS. 47 DANDELIONS. TT THEN the first dandelions took On their broad discs the light and dew, My heart ran truant, like the brook, And had its solace where they grew. 'T was good again to see them bare The lavish glitter of their shields Not one can perish but somewhere A light is blotted from the fields. They shed the sunshine as I pass, The sunshine sent them from above. Their glow as ample as the grass, But not more ample than my love. 48 DANDELIONS. Ah ! ever-blended green and gold, That mantle all the summer land, I learn how much the heart can hold, How very little fills the hand. DAISIES. 49 DAISIES. riAISIES, that, like the eagle's lidless eye, Look straight into the hot orb of the sky, And frolic in its splendor all day long, I deemed you once but born to dance and shine. But now I count your strength a thing divine — Gaily to eye the sun with glances strong. A happy lot is yours to nod and toss Your sunny heads when changeful zephyrs cross Your shining surf in all the meadow-lands. Happy ye are when strolling lovers pass, To twinkle like young planets in the grass ; Or yield your flower-souls in children's hands. 5© DAISIES. I envy you : ye have the birds so near, Brushing your straggling ranks without a fear, Pecking the gold that stars your white-plumed caps. Ye live a wakeful dream 'twixt sky and sod, And, when ye perish, die as would a god, Last looking at the sun from maidens' laps. COQUETTES. 5^ COQUETTES. QHALL I pluck you, roses, hedged in by ^ your spikes ? Ye have petals and perfumes ; I senses and likes. But I put out my hand, and my spirit half swerves ; For 'tis found ye have thorns, and 'tis found I have nerves. Then I ask : Are not pride and the kindred thereof The harsh thorns that embitter the roses of love ? The self-conscious butterfly comes, and he goes, Safely toys with the thorn, safely sips at the rose, 52 COQUETTES. And whispers : '' The bramble which beauty besets Only wounds her adorers. Coquet with co- quettes." Think not, pretty triflers, it is for your thorns Ye are loved, or the prickle the petal adorns. Tremble lest other blossoms, with hues as divine. Having odors as royal and nectars as fine, I espy, and no cruel stilettoes to press 'Twixt the blooms that invite and the lips that caress. 0\V^ TTAIXED. S3 UNATTAINED. SIXGIXG thy praise, my conscious harp doth falter, As if it trembled with a human dread, Lest one false note the melody should alter, And smite the spirit of its music dead. Last eve its song was roving bees and clover And humming-birds that, like gay bandits, come Where honey-suckle with its sweets runs over ; I turned the strain to thee ; the strings were dumb. 54 UNATTAINED. Yet the night zephyr, in low, peaceful trebles. Told the white rose what it was dreaming of, Ever the streamlet to the moonlit pebbles Murmured the long, sweet story of its love Didst thou awaken in a lesser measure My soul's perception of thy perfectness, My art had more of song's triumphant pleasure ; I of love's baffling ecstasy had less. Let the bold bliss that o'er my lyre hath hovered Rest with a brooding wing within my heart. I cannot grieve, love, that I have discovered A theme more exquisite than poet's art. THE POPPY. 55 THE POPPY. r^IVER of dreamless sleep, thou must have ^ quaffed At the Earth's drowsy breast what time she drew Midsummer languor all her senses through ; And drunk the soul of slumber — such a draught As ne'er compounded was with rain or dew. 5 6 THE LADY SLIPPER. THE LADY-SLIPPER. npHIS is the Cinderella shoe, ■*' Of fairy make and broidered o'er With diamonds sparkling in the grass. How could the simple courtiers pass This slipper dancing in the dew ? Or rove a realm from door to door, Seeking a rare and perfect lass, Without the Cinderella shoe ? Pink swung the Cinderella shoe On this frail weed at morning-light, Just where the equipage and fleet, Wee horses took their weird retreat As pageants in the embers do. A dainty maid it was that night Who took a prince's heart with her feet. And wore the Cinderella shoe. GOLDF.X-ROD. 57 GOLDEN-ROD. i^Oiy of the highway I See the golden-rod, The currency wherewith to buy a smile ; Ore of the sunshine, minted by the sod, And heaped, for Nature's commerce, by the stile. Oh ! what a spendthrift merchant traffics here ! Thou canst but cheat her if thou take at all Her golden-rods and asters. Full of cheer Is she, and rich, while all our wealth is small. Turn, man of thrift, thy steps to her bazar. For nod or glance she loves to barter more Than deep-ribbed galleons can bear afar, And all the coffers of thy heart can store. 5^ GOLD, GOLD. "T^ORTUNE, weird dame, shakes the uncanny ^ gold With awkward favor from her jingling horn. Not so the soncy fay whose fingers told Out all the wealth of cowslips and of corn, And all that wings of yellow finches hold. There is more craft in her light, sunny toil Than in the hands that shape the ore of Ind. They could not hide a jewel in the coil Of budded lilies, rocking in the wind, Or tinge the petals with so dainty foil. GOLD. 59 But she enriches in more cunning wise The cat-tails keeping in their rough, brown nap A glint of gold, and subtler treasure lies In the center of the dandelion's cap And in the silken hood the maize unties. Yet all her lesser work is but despair ; For once she made a woman's locks of brown, And strewed a glittering treasure in her hair. Ah ! wily mesh, and strong beyond renown ! The sunshine and my heart are in the snare. 6o SAPPHIRES, SAPPHIRES. IV /FY love has neither gold nor gems, Save that she wears in modest wise, Bluer than flash in diadems, Two sapphires like the midnight skies. Afar in their pellucid deeps Are stars that quickly rise and set ; And each a mystic meaning keeps Which no astrology may get. Shy opals not so liquid gleam As the soft sapphires of my love ; And oft I fancy that they dream Of what her heart is dreaming of. SAPPHIRES. 6 1 Before, what mortal ever knew Twin gems that held the wearer's soul, AVhile in and out, amid their hue, Her spirit's sweetest passions stole ? THE NIGHT-WANDERERS. THE NIGHT-WANDERERS. OOFTLY the firefly is roaming ^ Where dewy daisies doze ; Like an eye that opes and closes, in the gloam- ing His fickle lantern shows. Now here, now there, the shimmer mellow, As if, by magic game, Each buttercup, to light the loitering fellow, Relumed its mid-day 'flame. Ten thousand of his kin are riding. See their bewildering lamps Sparkle across the meadow-brook dividing Their fires like hostile camps. THE NIGHT-WAiWDERERS. 63 O merry men, what quest of plunder Put all your lights aglow, Making the cricket almost mute with wonder Under his gateway low ? Perhaps of some nocturnal honey, Lurking in flower or brake, — Sweet undistillable when fields are sunny, — A moon-bright comb ye make. Or are ye bid to elfin tourney, And so in gold cuirass, Lit by a luster of its shedding, journey, Winged wizards of the grass ? There the night-beetle, like a giant. Awaits your onset frail : Gog or Magog let him be, defiant Ye tilt against his mail. 64 THE NIGHT WANDERERS. Nay, nay ! In mazes dark and fragrant Ye stray when night is bland, Even as the poet saunters, twilight vagrant,- Silent, with lamp in hand. SHELLS. 65 SHELLS. 'T^HESE castaways some billow rolled ■*■ Along its sands, when up the rocks The young sun clambered, flushed and bold, Or when the moon led down her flocks, — Lone shepherdess with yellow locks. O fairy citadels of stone, Upon whose darkly-winding stair, Like an uneasy ghost, a moan Goes up and down and everywhere, Have ye no legends dim and rare ' 66 SHELLS. Where, in the greenish dark, with cold And stony faces, drowned men pass Amid a shipwreck's silk and gold, And women made for beauty's glass Float in their shrouds of tangled grass, They lay, with spoils of swirl and swell. Until the heart that rocks a fleet And turns the spiral of a shell, Cloven by some melodious beat, Squandered their beauty at my feet. TO A CHRISTMAS TREE. 67 TO A CHRISTMAS TREE. TTTHEX winter strips the orchard and the '' • wood, Thou only, dear and mystic evergreen, Defiant of his storms, as sickles keen, Ladest thy boughs with fruitage fair and good. Never amid the thickets of the swamp, Ere thou wast torn from the kind earth apart, And Christmas took thy roots in its warm heart, Budded from thy wee limbs such elfin pomp. Though science fail to trace thy rank and line, Each child is botanist enough to know, When all this goodly splendor is aglow, Thou'rt of a genus and a species fine. 68 TO A CHRISTMAS TREE. Nor shall he miss the miracle of power, Plucking at will, amid thy foliage dark, The harvest of the holiday, but mark A whole year's love that blossoms in an hour. THE BLOOMING OF THE CALLA. 69 THE BLOOMING OF THE CALLA. IITHEN the young calla bud slept on its stem, ^^ A hundred vassals brought their tribute there, * And subtle worship touched its regal hem, While ministering craftsmen wove with care A fabric fit a lily to enfold, And even the sun sent gifts of much fine gold. Heir of a beauty that to clods is bound, Hourly the dainty life the homage felt, Of genies at their magic in the ground ; No mute and darkly-caverned force there dwelt In the round kingdom of the calla jar But sent rich tithes on some invisible car. 70 THE BLOOMIXG OF THE CALL A. With the wise leisure of its perfect art The blossom grew. Nor morn nor noon had power To force the cloister of the lily's heart. We scarcely knew when the awaited flower Did the white marvel of its visions rear, — A priestess whose pure cult no man durst hear. How like a miser did it cover up Its riches, well content to meditate Upon the virgin store in its closed cup, Knowing its day to bloom, however late, Was set in the great calendar of the sky — Knowing that day could never pass it by. WHISPERS OF THE EOKEST. 71 WHISPERS OF THE FOREST. TN my gray haunts the deer eludes The feet that chase his winged leap ; Within my craggy solitudes, And steep. Rock-nested eaglets sleep. Aloft where the pine-tassels float, Alone, as she austerely wills, The thrush, from sober-tinted throat, Oft spills Her meditative trills. 72 WHISPERS OF THE FOREST. The Storm that faints 'mid landscapes bland Here all his swarthy thews unyokes, Hurls the last lightning from his hand ; My oaks Throb with the thunder-strokes. The shadow where my children bide Shifts not its shelter, large and dun, Awearily from side to side, To shun The broad, inconstant sun. Eternal shade that is not night, With flecks of light that are not stars, Like thought that is nor sad nor bright, Out-bars The daylight's pomps and wars. WHISPERS OF TJ/E FORES 7\ 73 In the mild gloom which builds a dome Out of my everlasting firs, Think not the wild-bird seeks its home Nor errs, And not thy spirit, hers. Sadness shall vainly call her back, And pain be voiceless, as she springs Away — away, on arrowy track, And sings On her recovered wings. 74 THE TOAD. THE TOAD. pOMPLACENT friend, in some rain-ruffled ^ pool Thy swart sides laving ; or in arbor cool, Under a roof of friendly dock reposing, The sly composure in thy visage glozing The light and antic fly that thinks thee dozing ; Or, where thick dusk the meadow path invades. Grazing the startled foot of shuddering maids. Thy kin, the frog, chirps a delirious strain, Or mutters sullenly his poet pain : But thou repressest 'neath a sober jacket Unasked confessions and the rhymer's racket. Content, if lacking any thing, to lack it ; Nor quarrelest with fate, whose purpose dim Made thee a listener, a singer him. FAN A GOD'S BRIDE. 75 VANAGOD'S BRIDE. 1 TANAGOD, lord of the sea, Scattered the surf on the breakers, Sowing, in tumult and glee, Tempest along his broad acres, And garnered in murmurous caves His harvest of white-blossomed waves. Thunder-clouds heeded his eye, Ling'ring with deep-throated bellow In the bare pastures of sky. To the reaches of sand, curved and yellow, The fisher returned at his nod, Giving thanks to the kind Vanagod. 76 VAN A GOD'S BR WE. Weary the deity grew ; Often this weariness uttered, Tracing the tremulous blue. To the mountains he looked as they muttered; To Thrymheim, the desolate place Where Skade went forth to the chase, — Hunting the wild boar and deer ; Roving, with quiver and arrow, By rivulet, torrent and mere ; Threading the gorge sheer and narrow ; Singing where cataracts sprang Songs wilder than they sang. '' Happier here were the maid, Roaming the undulant water," Softly the sea-god said ; '* For Thjasse's beauteous daughter Too steep are the cloud-muffled crags Where the hunted red deer lags. VANA GOD'S BRIDE. 77 " Ever the sea-winds most sweet — Even as petrels light-footed, Even as sea-eagles fleet — With music from slight lips fluted, Should urge her bright bark ; and young seas Sport as lambs on the watery leas. " Vainly the swarthy sea-snake Under the billows shall burrow ; Dolphins shall flash in the wake Of her galley along the salt furrow ; And mermaids shall own her more fair. As she straightens the gold of her hair." So his swift heralds he sent, — Bade the wild pigeon and plover Speed to the sky-maiden's tent And carry the plea of a lover — To her bower of sunshine and mist, All golden and amethyst. 78 VANAGOnS BRIDE. Listened the huntress maid, In her rainbow palace heeding ; A softer rainbow played On the throat of the shy dove pleading ; Her heart to her whispered, " Go ; " And the blue surge danced below. Why is it Thrymheim grieves ? Skade, beloved of the mountains, Of waterfalls sprinkling green leaves, And forest dells twinkling with fountains, Goes down to the rough-sighing deep, That lies like a jotun asleep. Happy is Vanagod's bride. Roaming the undulant water With the god of the storms at her side ; For Thjasse's beauteous daughter The sweet sea-winds chant low. And the lily-white foam-flowers blow. VANAGOD'S BRIDE. 79 Vainly the swarthy sea-snake Under the billows did burrow ; Dolphins did flash in the wake Of her galley along the salt furrow ; jNIermaidens did own her more fair. As she straightened the gold of her hair. Coral and sea-shell and pearl Brought he from deep-blooming places, Flowers whose chalices curl Close by the sunken cliff's bases, And sat at her feet as he wove Glist'ning wreaths for the brows of his love. Yet did the huntress bride Oft, as the god lay sleeping, While the sea-fowl shrilly cried, Or the clouds all night were weeping, Sigh for the sweet-breathed pines And the purple-blooded vines. 8o VANA GOD'S BRIDE. ** Here in this desolate grot, Wliere the billows for aye come sobbing, Telling of shipwrecks forgot. Of sleep all my senses robbing, How he slumbers, my gray-beard king ! Would he weep, did my feet take wing ? " Forth from the cave one night, When the sea like a million candles Shone with a phosphor light, The goddess, in glittering sandals. Walked over sea-weed and shell Strewn by the tidal swell. Nevermore Thrymheim grieves, Skade, beloved of the mountains. Of waterfalls sprinkling green leaves. And forest dells twinkling with fountains, Comes back from the rough-sighing deep. That lies like a jotun asleep. VAN A GOD'S BRIDE. 8i Loud did the sea-god wail, In sorrow his cavern pacing. Clad in their clanking mail, The storms to his door came racing, And smote upon shoal and scar, Impatient for ravage and war. Over the meadow-green waste, Under the league-deep water, Searched he in madness and haste For Thjasse's beauteous daughter — Crying in half-despair : ** Where is Vanagod's bride, the fair ? " " Vanagod's bride, the fair ! " Echoed the cavernous islands ; ** Vanagod's bride, the fair ! " Repeated the cliffs and highlands ; And the summits of Thrymheim heard The flight of the anguished word. 82 VANAGOD'S BRIDE. " Tell me, wild pigeon and plover ! Where has my huntress strayed ? Her bright hair her body doth cover As spray doth the white cascade ; Most sweet is the face of my bride — Where doth my huntress hide ? " Sea-faring fishers that sail Nights when the black clouds lower, Shiver at Vanagod's wail, And low in their boats they cower, As he mourns for the bride of yore That comes to his side nevermore. APOCALYPTIC. 83 APOCALYPTIC. VTE say there is only the thing that ye see ; ■*• And your life seemeth lonely, ye thought to make free, While ye cry to the Earth, and the Earth echoes back, ''Where is He?" Love, surer than arrow that speeds to the breast. Love, truer than sparrow that flies to her nest. Finds My face, and the kingdoms of Heaven await her behest. Stars whose woof from My loom is thick mantles of fire, Wand'ring clouds in whose gloom is some world I desire, Brush past ]\Ie forever and ever ; yet man, he is nigher. 84 APOCALYPTIC. Ye pry into Heaven, at omens ye peer, And cry, '^ Lo ! the seven seals break ! He is near ! " While the grass I make live whispers into each face, "He is here." My apocalypse raiment is that I unrolled, When man, tardy claimant, thou wakedst of old. And thy kingdom lay smiling in emerald, azure and gold. Through the shadows that hover, the haughty to daunt, The childlike discover the places I haunt. They live in My peace, and My love over- spreadeth their want. TO THE ROSE. TO THE ROSE. BLOSSOMED or newly budded, Or blown on the breezes free, Yellowed or ruddy-blooded, Gathered or on thy tree, Each heart looks for its image Into the heart of thee. 85 86 SILENCE, SILENCE. "IT THAT minstrel heart did ever make Language its burthen's fullness take Yet, though a vision go unsung, The heart is greater than the tongue, And life than song. When eagles pierce the upper sky, Mute in the mantling light they fly ; A blue-bird, on the finger-tips Of Spring, sings to his mistress' lips The whole day long. SILENCE. 87 Love hath deep speech, but deeper is The converse of its silences. Worship its canticles doth cease When the broad wings of perfect peace Brood o'er it strong. Better than turbid change is rest ; Better to guard, unheard, unblest, A truth it were divine to teach Than with unkindled, earthy speech The message wrong. The fragrance of a thought may rise To nobler life and subtler guise As still as violets' by the brooks — A thing too rare to set in books, Or cage in song. 88 LIMI TA TION. B LIMITATION. ID beauty bind her fleeting witcheries ; Restrain the virgin spring from growing old, And keep this lusty verdure on the trees ; Or put thy foot upon the lake and hold One moon-bright wave that sparkles as it flees ; Forbid the lover's ardor to grow cold ; Restore the poet's paling fire with gold. Thou canst not do a single thing of these. For earth and man are creatures of a mood ; Each to the other's features is a glass. And, knowing well the season's finitude, And knowing that our fervors fail — alas ! — LI MI TA TION. 89 E'en as the vernal foliage of the wood Or as the summer splendor of the grass, We fear that o'er God's heart some change must pass, And dream that He doth sometimes tire of good. 90 DISCOVERY. DISCOVERY. 'T^HERE are who, groping far and peering deep Have softly touched the face of One who waits Forever by the spirit's inner gates, The invisible sources of its life to keep. There are to whom He comes in plenitude. An uninvited but a welcome guest, Taking unto His service what is best, While round them His uncounted gifts are strewed. There are to whom nor light of worlds nor light Of Heaven makes the kindly face less dim. Yet intimations rise and speak of Him Like prophets with unfinished gift of sight. DISCOVERY. 91 God doth to them a little truth vouchsafe. Some nurture it and count no labor loss : Some cast the foundling where the highways cross, And never cometh back the tender waif. Then in the souls where the mild wonder shone Is sorrowing ; and desolate vacancy Where was the babbling of truth's infant cry, And the first lisping of its cradle tone. But they who nourish the divine behest Shall see the truth grow stronger every day, And 'mid the shock of anxious creeds shall lay The head reposeful on its tranquil breast. 92 RECONCILED. RECONCILED. Thou hast watched by thy dead ; Thou hast put the dull curtain aside Till the moonlight fell pallid and splendid, Where the death-angel's peace had descended, On the sanctified head Of a mother or sister or bride. Then thy faith in the soul, Thy faith that was dead and inhumed, Like a friend who has briefly been banished. Whose resentment as shortly has vanished, To thy side gently stole, And its ministry softly resumed. COMPENSA TION, 93 COMPENSATION. n^HE chariot wheels of the angels shine Only in turning. The gleam divine Missions of mercy alone evoke From the mighty nave or the living spoke. Ever and ever the angels strive For that glory fleet and fugitive, And reckon their blessedness supreme, If the sacred radiance 'round them stream. How are we lower, then, than they When the smile of God is our only pay ? 94 URIEL. URIEL T TRIEL, fairest-born of Heaven, Who basked for aye by the shining throne, With wonder marked that a luster shone On the angels that kept the trumpets seven, And over Michael's armor stern, Keener than made his diadem burn. Down in the gloom and mist of Earth A thousand years, at their Lord's commands, They had watched, along the sea-wet sands. Men's argosies ride back and forth, — At the parting of the seas and lands, With the judgment trumpets in their hands. URIEL. 95 And Michael, in whose warrior eyes The battle's lingering rage went out, At the benign light shed about, As storm-rack melts in clearing skies, Till on the archangel's gaze abode The unclouded vision of his God, Had urged before his dented shield The combat, paying stroke with stroke Where red Gehenna's forges smoke : Never for him, where the loud fray pealed. The harps by the crystal waters woke, Or the clash of heavenly cymbals broke. " O Holy One," spake Uriel, '* With the cherubim and the seraphim. In the blaze of Thy majesty I swim ; Forever the bright tides o'er me well ; And the smile that blends with the awful ray Is the food of my soul by night and day." 9^ URIEL. Then lo ! by sudden light transfixed, He views God's love, which naught doth bar, Beam forth, and its pure streamings are With the celestial spaces mixed ; And some are nearest who afar Its brightness track from star to star. THE DIVER. 97 THE DIVER. CEW are they that go Where white pearls lie, below The strong sea's pulse and flow • Many are they that bear The treasure on throat and hair. Not they that flaunt the stone Its pride and luster own ; But he that gropes alone After the shell-housed pearl Under the briny swirl. Only the finder knows Where the victory grows ; Only the one that throws Life on a doubtful leap, And plucks it back from the deep. 98 LINES ON THE EMPEROR MOTH. LINES ON THE EMPEROR MOTH. 'PRAIL tenant of the gloaming's pensive ray, He has no keeping with corporeal things, Nor the bold luster of substantial day. But like impalpable thoughts which twilight wings His pale-green pinion its illusion flings. When noon upon the languid gardens lies. When all the trumpet-flowers and tulips pour Round cheer for humming-birds and butterflies, He never wassails in their flowing store. Or sweeps with courtly mien the garish door. LINES O.V THE EMPEROR MOTH. 99 The wide, religious porches of the dusk, The shadow-pillared vestibule of night, Arched his first triumph, fluttering from the husk That was his secret cell, strange eremite. While darkness wove his garnishing of light. As dandelions spun their filmy globes, As chestnuts from their bonnets 'gan to peep, And duller tassels flamed on sumac robes. Amid the walnut branches, fruited deep. In a many-ribbed cocoon he fell asleep. With India silk, unspoiled by weaver's loom, He made luxurious his dreamless bed ; On the sear earth lay the enshrining tomb, Where autumn's hand her lavish relics spread. And winter's snow was sifted o'er his head. lOO LINES ON THE EMPEROR MOTH. Who viewed within the slumberous cocoon These spiritual wings, so ghostly-fleet At the first, tip-toed coming of the moon ? Who heard life's deadened pulses newly beat In the silken cincture of its winding-sheet ? But, when the darts which skies of summer aim On the dissolving cerements warmly fell, Shot not a rapture through the delicate frame ? Looked he not forth, from the transparent shell, On grass and trees, and knew that it was well ? Now on deft pinions, fit to agitate The air of Paradise, he wanders free. Forgot his wingless and inglorious state. And seems some heavenly visitant to be, Some phantom in the calm immensity. THE LAST BAyqUET SO.VG. loi THE LAST BANQUET SONG. TJEARKEN, kings! Drowsy revelers! ■'• ■■■ Wassail no more " Man exclaims, as he springs from his chains. " Hark, ye kings, Cease the song and the bacchanal roar. ''^ For I bring such a song as no harps ever chime For delighting of king ; ay, the strain that I bring With a story of years is sublime. C 4, 4t' t ' 1 02 THE LAST BANQUET SONG. '* Now the morning is come which the seers prophesy. Mine the vineyards and corn bending low to the morn, As its red sickle pierces the sky. " I have winded my horn ; and my sons know its tone. In the gray light outlined, to the harvest they wind, But the sheaves they shall reap for their own. " Joyous-footed they run ; each is master and lord — Where the vine's purpling fruit waits the wine- treader's foot, Where the wheat rustles ripe o'er the sward. THE LAST BANQUET SONG. 103 " They shall eat of the harvest who scattered the grain ; And their bread shall be sweet when their gaunt wives shall eat. Nor their babes cry with hunger and pain. '* No more make us dole from your vintage and wheat. Lazarus at your door lies in rags never- more, While in purple and linen ye eat. " All the land bore you meat and the trees gave you silk. Ye but stretched out a hand, and the blossom- ing land Overflowed with its honey and milk. 104 THE LAST BANQUET SONG. ** I did drink of a cup whence no joy-bubble starts. Now your goblets I clink, and the draught that I drink At my revel is bruised from your hearts. " And your oil of anointing, I, bondman and boor — I anoint with it Toil, and your sanctified oil I pour on the heads of the poor. " Fear I your foul dungeons, or torturing fires ? Prone the noisome stones lie, quenched the fagots, while I Rear my state in the halls of your sires. THE L A S T BA XQ UE T SONG. 105 '* With what wine were ye drunk when I crouched at your knee, That the Earth, which is mine, ye should plant with red wine And white honey and fruitage for me ? " Did ye think, O ye fools, when I groaned in the gripe Of your fist, and the link of your chain — did ye think I would not claim my own when 't was ripe ? ■* All the blind night the poet, that heir of the wrong And the wrath of mankind, sang, ye kings deaf and blind. That my vengeance is heavy though long." io6 q^HE RAMBLER. THE RAMBLER. AT ATURE is gracious as thy heart is bold. Who walks with pilgrim footsteps dale and wold Haunts not unrecompensed the sacred place, Nor misses quite the glory of her face, But roves her temple with a vision clean, Viewing the Isis through her veil of green. His purged sense can feel the grasses grow, Each lithe root groping in the sod below, The texture of their summer robes to choose, And, 'mid a various merchandise of hues, To pick and gather, with fastidious care, The shades of verdure they delight to wear. THE RAMBLER. 107 No more the cheery sap eludes his ear, Bubbling from the first wine-press of the year To feed the rivers in the maple's side ; In buds and leaves he hears life's stilly tide, And the wild honeysuckles audibly Filter their nectar for the foraging bee. For him the earth-smell holds the unborn flowers, Ere its coarse essence melts in odorous showers; In him the soul of man, a vagrant sad, Touching the mother-soil, again is glad ; And instincts blighted since Earth's bounteous prime. Fed by his kindly blood, take sap and climb. Hail fellow he with every fern and rush. Kindred .salute him in each flower and bush, Claiming a common root to Mother Earth — Although they have a more immediate birth, io8 THE RAMBLER. Nor fetch by any long and rambling line The blood that in their veins is honied wine. Birches and beeches muffled to their chins, Like sturdy Russians in their furs and skins, With mosses thickest where the north winds blow, And hemlocks tilted to the sunrise glow — Thus reverent toward the sources of their might — Like sages preach with foreheads bathed in light. Here flock his genial comrades of the wood. Dearer by far than Hellas' mythic brood. Fauns, satyrs, dryads — shadows that did start Out of the phantom-breeding Grecian heart — The chipmonk, scampering from its castle small On foray frolicsome, is worth them all. Wood-thrushes woo him to leaf-curtained nests, Making him wiser by the faith that rests THE RAMBLER. 109 All on the providence of a swaying limb ; And like a crony, hovering o'er the rim Of his wee house, the braggart robin speaks Of bonny eggs and little wings and beaks. No war has he with the bright swarms that look The animated sunshine of the brook. Sure of his heart, the unsuspicious trout Darts its keen splendor, or leaps half-way out The pool to flash the ruddy coins that blaze Along its sides on his uncovetous gaze. There's not a pulse beats under root or stone But keeps a subtle unison with his own ; No creature, thankful for the summer's boon, Trills a sharp canzonet in the ear of noon But shrills a louder, heartier catch for him — Its fellow reveler at life's common brim. Never the goddess* ampler glory seen, She holds her sober court amid the green ; no THE RAMBLER. Yet lives his temperate spirit, fed by her, Richer than ever ruby banqueter — Though but a birch-tree, from some scented ark, Bring forth its dainties of sweet-smelHng bark. When fails the wood's and hillside's wholesome hue, Transmuted to a radiance white and new ; When leafless boles like mighty lute-strings twang. Keyed by the frost till all their fibers clang : Or overhead the wind moves, as it blows. Pine branches, clashed like violin chords and bows, No starving wilderness his paths besets, Nor loss of summer's bounty he regrets : As the shy rabbit, when no prowlers scare. In many a drifted nook finds plenteous fare — Girding the sapling with a tell-tale zone — His trustful heart creeps forth and takes its own. HYMN TO THE SUN. m HYMN TO THE SUN. O AXDALED with swiftness and begirt around ^^ With an insufferable majesty, Thou travelest the desert firmament, Imperial pilgrim, whom nor Day doth see At rest, amid his gorgeous pageantry, Nor Night, within her shadow-bordered tent. When darkness drapes the horizon's mystic bound, Still span thy fiery foot-prints the profound, On other worlds thy golden glare is spent. But not unwatched thou traversest the deep : Rejoicingly, O king, about thy track 112 HYMN TO THE SUN. The bright Earth circles, and the beauteous moon ; The courtier planets journey through the black Abysses, and their brows give ever back Thy mellow sheen, even as they trip in tune ; From tracts of infinite sky the comets sweep, With hair that streams along the paths they keep. Mingling strange fire with thy eternal noon. 'Mid what august repose, where vapors glide, Or glaciers clasp the floods in their embrace, While far below the avalanche appalls. Can man speak fitting word before thy face. When in the west thou train'st thy robes apace ? And, when thy shattered glory trails and falls. Arched underneath, as raining clouds divide. On what high pinnacle of thought or pride. The praise that to his faltering lip he calls ? For we are as the drops of the great sea, That heavenward lift thin ladders of slant mist, HYMN- TO THE SUN. 113 Drawn upward by thy unattainable fire. Life is an up-tost spray, tliy liglit has kissed, And its quick lusters, ere they may exist, Within the hollow of the waves expire. But thou wast ever ; and thou still shalt be. When Earth is drifting through immensity Like a shriveled leaf on winds that never tire. Time in thy sum of change is as the vast. Void gulf, wayfarer, where thy steps were set When out of elder chaos thou wast born. Quenchless, the lightning of thy gaze doth yet Wither and blast the eye which it has met ; And not thy shaggy strength has yet been shorn Which from thee, with exulting, once did cast The swathing fire-mist — even as now thou hast These clouds, and walkest in the blaze of morn ! For He who breathed upon thee, and thou wast. Gave thee the stars' large destiny to share — 114 HYMN TO THE SUN. Brother of Sirius and Aldebaran, Of bold Arcturus, with his torch aflare ; And long the untraveled waste must feel thy glare. The lamp illumed when thy swift race began, Within the thick folds of the nebulous blast, Unto some bourn that shines afar will last, Which now thy piercing glances may not scan. The course o'er which thy burning pulses lead, Unerringly across the void is laid, And far ahead thy beam effulgent flies. The heavens know of thy coming ; all arrayed, Some constellation, where thy ray doth fade, Holds stately carnival in northern skies. And thou shalt come, where its calm stars pro- ceed. The maze of some diviner march to heed, Blending thy motion with their harmonies A REUNION. II :) A REUNION. A TOT with turbulent revel we garland our fes- tival cheer ; Nor the notes that up-floated when life, merry-throated, A May-song sang cheery and clear — When the soul was the ruler of seasons, and all was the soul's, While each day was glad weather, and the hours chimed together Like the rhymes which a reveler trolls. The noise of the madd'ning carousal is not the soul's glee, Nor glows with her fire its delirious lyre ; Decorous must her carnival be. il6 A EE UNION. The joyance of youth is unchastened, unripened, nor knows Vict'ry's perilous sweet or the wine of defeat, Joy of action or joy of repose. To manhood is strength born of battle and nour- ished by pain ; And Patience doth teach by her wonderful speech, Distilled on the spirit like rain ; Sorrow talks, face to face, unto manhood, and wise is her voice : Who has gazed in her eyes, he only is wise, He only can mourn or rejoice. Joy is the sister of Sorrow, and both are of Heaven , They eternally move round the great throne of Love, And their glory is one and unriven. A REU.VION. 117 They weave and unweave the morning and eve of the heart : They are darkness and h'ght, they are day- hght and night, And the spirit sees neither apart. For us is a gladness surpassing or revel or mirth. Where it flows, ever blest are the feast and the guest, Fit the banquet for Heaven or Earth. Yea, the food of immortals, the blessed ambrosia, is ours ; It is friendship, I ween, and its tree, ever green, Wears a raiment of fruitage and flowers. And two on whose lips did a marvelous silence creep, Who, while sweet was the light, drank the poppy of night, And ate of the lotus of sleep. Ii8 A REUNION. They live where the tree in the garden of Love never dies ; And the friendships of Earth, 'mid the hunger and dearth, Are the blossoms that fall from the skies. ENGLAND. 119 ENGLAND. n^nOU art as a lone watcher on a rock, "*■ "With Saxon hair back floating in the wind, Gazing where stranger ships, to doom con- signed. Upon the sullen ledges grind and knock. Fair were the barks round which the breakers flock, Rich freights had they of treasure for man- kind, And gallant were the hearts th:it left behind The sea's broad buffet for the channel's shock- Slow, slow the ship that brings thy liberties Cuts the white tempest or the bright, blue brine ; And wanders oft before the whelming storm ; And ever the swift straits and shallows flees. But near, more near the haven's sheltering line, Up the long sea-curve rides its stately form. 1 2 o BLOOD OF NE W ENGL A ND. BLOOD OF NEW ENGLAND. NOBLE must be the blood ordained to feed The hero might that tames a savage land, To scorn the sharpness of a despot's brand, Or bear o'er crested mains a nation's seed ; Nourish in strength the Pilgrims' storm-swept creed And sunnier faiths than cheered that valorous band, To flower in speech and song on the blest strand Where sunk its deathless roots the Pilgrims' deed. Most royal current, in whose pregnant drops BLOOD OF NE IV ENGLAND. i 2 1 Is all emprise whereof the skalds did sing, All wherewith ]\Iilton's prophet voice did ring, Strong men shall be until thy surging stops, And freedom's tree into its fragrant tops Shall draw its life from thy illustrious spring. 122 SOUNDS OF THE TEMPLE. SOUNDS OF THE TEMPLE. "PiAILY the wanton and profane Jostled the Master in His path ; But none provoked His righteous scath As they who chaffered for their gain Inside the fair and hallowed fane. In this high fane, a fane in truth, This blue-domed pile with stars bedight. With sun by day and moon by night, Men trade with sneer or sigh , forsooth, The doves of innocence and truth. There are the traffickers and the mart, And there the wares delectable ; By morning's gateway beautiful. Where evening's barriers glide apart, Brawls the harsh clamor of the mart. SOUNDS OF THE TEMPLE. 123 No hush beats back the unholy din, Nor any comes with fragrant gift, Or sweet-toned orison to lift, But rears his sanctuary in The talent's clink, the vendor's din. And through the gates the buyers press- Youth, striding in with burning stare. Beauty that strays so languid-fair ; Loth his spent treasure to confess, Even grizzly Eld is in the press. A-listing where the babbling tide Goes ever hurrying up and down, Like waves by fickle storm-winds blown, I heard the tumult of its pride, With sadder mutterings of the tide. 124 SOUNDS OF THE TEMPLE. " All joys," a boaster cried, " I snatch : More treasure in my veins doth swim, Youth's ruddy sands, that dye their brim, Than in the streams gold-seekers catch. Kings pledge no more a realm to snatch." A maiden murmured mockingly — That her red lips such craft did preach Made the more treason in her speech ; They owed to love some fealty, Lips carved and curved most tenderly. " I barter for a world a heart. For love is madness, love is woe, And love with quiet dwelleth low. I will not make my house apart In half or all of any heart. SOUNDS OF THE TEMPLE. 125 *' I know thee, Love, thou beggar boy, — Such gold upon thy wings as lies Upon the wings of butterflies ; Thou hast thy day of flitting joy. Slight vagabond and archer boy." (( Then sighed a poet from his soul : The clouds are blov.-n across the stars, And chill have grown my lattice bars ; I cannot keep my vigil whole By the lone candle of my soul. " This reed had once devoutest tongue, And sang as if to its small throat God listened for a perfect note ; As charily this lyre was strung : God's praise is slow and has no tongue. >) 126 SOUNDS OF THE TEMPLE. " I sell the truth to who will buy," One recreant spake. " 'Tis but a glimpse. Your God each man's horizon scrimps To a bare handbreadth of the sky. My handbreadth half a world will buy. " It suits me not in martyr's ways. So little truth I will not hold ; I change it for the might of gold, I buy me power and mirth and praise — I sell the clouds for blossomy ways : " The clouds, where no man ever walks, For woods of Pan and Venus' isle, For Comus' dance, red Bacchus' smile The clouds where the ascetic stalks In dreams, yet waking never walks," SOUXDS OF THE TEMPLE. i ; Then one whose peace, methought, was slain, Whose face was as a battle-sward, With the deep tread of passions scarred, And in the furrowed track of pain The nobler moods of life lav slain : " A patriot's brain ! Its visions dead, It serves no more the giant deed, Or virtues of the hero breed. How can we dwarfs weak dams have fed Match us with the full-statured dead ? " So murmur waves upon the sea. But through the temple, unconfined, A Voice sweeps like the ceaseless wind Whose anthem surges solemnly In some wide cavern by the sea. 128 SOUNDS OF THE TEMPLE. And he that lists the whisper pure High-hearted walks beneath the dome, Unvexed by marring sounds that roam, And from the flaunting cheat and lure Ever he makes the temple pure. THE END. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY BERKELEY Return to desk from which borrowed. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below May 9i§S3tg LD 21-100m-9,'47(A5702sl6)476 77G10 VA 938583 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY .f V- 'Sil ;"'v. ' m^ '■t;'-' ;'■•■«