's Garten
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 AND OTHER VERSES
 
 THIS IS THE AUTHOR'S 
 AUTOGRAPHED EDITION
 
 In Love's Garden 
 
 And Other Verses 
 
 Ida Frances Anderson 
 
 ARROYO GUILD PRESS 
 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
 
 Copyright, 1909, by 
 
 IDA FRANCES ANDERSON 
 
 Pasadena, California
 
 PS 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction 9 
 
 The Heart and Its Message 15 
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 Love's Garden 19 
 
 Love's Conquest 20 
 
 Love's Spirit-Image 21 
 
 Love's Pride 22 
 
 Love's Message 23 
 
 Love's Kiss 24 
 
 Love's Dream 25 
 
 Love's Trembling Joy 26 
 
 Love's Day 27 
 
 Love's Flowers 28 
 
 Love Ungathered 29 
 
 Love's Ashes SO 
 
 Love's Refusal 32 
 
 Love's Waiting 33 
 
 Love's Cost 34 
 
 Love's Pranks 35 
 
 Love's Discovery 37 
 
 Love's Dawn 38 
 
 Love's Despair 4O 
 
 Love's Hope 4O 
 
 Love's Unheeded Language 41 
 
 Love's Phantom Sorrow 41 
 
 Love's Joy 42 
 
 Love's Expectation 43 
 
 Love's Eyes 44 
 
 Love's Remembrance 45 
 
 Love's Measure 40 
 
 Love's Presence 47 
 
 Love's Longing 48 
 
 Love's Way 49 
 
 Love's Choice 51 
 
 Love's Pear 54 
 
 Love's Late Coming 55 
 
 Love's Desperation 50
 
 OR many years I have believed 
 and taught that California 
 was destined to become the 
 radiating center of the artis 
 tic, literary and inspirational 
 powers of the world. I have 
 contended that the freedom 
 of the West was one of the 
 essential conditions for the 
 highest and best development. The soul of 
 man must have absolutely free course to ex 
 press itself, regardless of rules, conventions 
 and restrictions. The soul only is of God 
 godlike; rules, restrictions, conventions, are 
 inventions of man, and while they often appear 
 good, they also often do much harm. 
 
 In this age of conventionality and fear to 
 do anything different from the accepted stand 
 ard, it is a delight and a gratification to me to 
 meet with work that shows power and free 
 dom, and a complete ignoring of all conven 
 tional rules. In her verses Miss Anderson has 
 cared for neither rhyme nor rythm. She has
 
 had something to say, however, that was worth 
 the saying, and that is well worth the world's 
 hearing. But the reader who expects to find 
 ordinary poems, set to the music of jingling 
 rhymes, will lay the book down, disappointed. 
 In form these verses are purely individualistic, 
 more so even than Walt Whitman's. Yet 
 there is a spontaneity to them, and a rythmic 
 quality that recalls the improvisations of the 
 old Saxon skalds, or the singers of the Sagas, 
 a primitive power of utterance that is both 
 tuneful and dignified. Anything in our com 
 plex civilization that denotes a return to the 
 simple, the primitive, the genuine, the un 
 affected; anything that is absolutely free 
 from the taint of the conventional, is espe 
 cially welcome to me, because of what I be 
 lieve to be its leavening influence in the world. 
 We are all the while saying what the world ex 
 pects us to say, in the words the world has 
 chosen we shall say our thoughts in, run into 
 certain set moulds. Here conies a young 
 woman, who, without blare of trumpets, or 
 
 10
 
 shriek of defiance, calmly, quietly, and se 
 renely, because thoroughly conscious of her 
 God-given right, says exactly what she feels 
 in exactly her own way. Not one word too 
 many or one too few, in order to conform to the 
 rules of rhyme and meter. Indeed, as one has 
 already said of her verse : "It is as if a woman 
 of mature years, with exalted conceptions of 
 life, her youthful ideals retained in all their 
 sweet, full freshness, has expressed her inmost 
 thoughts with remarkable clarity and precision, 
 yet with the quiet, powerful and fearless lan 
 guage of a precocious child." 
 
 I have prevailed upon Miss Anderson to 
 allow me to use as her introduction a few 
 verses, entitled "The Heart," which she 
 brought to me as her own spontaneous expla 
 nation of the "why" of the apparent formless 
 ness of her verse, and her refusal to obey the 
 conventions of prosody. It is worthy a careful 
 perusal and long consideration. 
 
 Anyhow, for what they are these pages are 
 now given to the public. Their author has 
 
 11
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 already expressed in "Man's God-like Gift," 
 her calm acquiescence and acceptance of "the 
 worst man may do." So with both pleasure 
 and fearlessness I now commend them to all 
 who value a free, spontaneous, natural expres 
 sion of the inner feelings and thoughts of a 
 singularly pure, clear, transparent soul. 
 
 GEORGE WHARTON JAMES. 
 Pasadena, October 1, 1909. 
 
 12
 
 THE HEART AND ITS MESSAGE
 
 s% 
 
 OW can we measure the heart, 
 By line or rhyme? 
 Its rythmic beats not set to 
 
 time 
 
 Of man's device ; 
 Now fast, now slow, they 
 
 move; 
 
 Now stop for pause: 
 E'en as the rythm of the wave 
 
 That pulses free, unmeasured, 
 
 Careless now to lose a beat, 
 
 Careless now to measure full, 
 
 But following true its own great law. 
 
 O heart, shouldst thou be less? 
 
 Hast thou no great law of thine own? 
 
 Must the exact mind 
 
 Measure thy beats by foot and line 
 
 And cast thee in a mould of rhyme, 
 
 Thou, untamed and free? 
 
 Not so ! Yet many are the man-made rules, 
 
 To twist thee out of shape, 
 
 So that we know thee not. 
 
 When thou art done thy voice, 
 
 Rule would add another sound 
 
 is
 
 To fill the place prescribed. 
 When thou wouldst pour another note 
 To ease thy burdened self, 
 "Stop!" she cries, 
 "It is enough, the line is full!" 
 And when thou wouldst cry this, 
 "Cry that," she says, 
 "To make these sounds the same 
 There must be two or more 
 All dressed alike." 
 O heart, full heart, 
 How canst express thyself, 
 Thou loved offspring of the muse, 
 Fcrever wild and free, 
 That no man holds 
 To tame and harness thee, 
 But thou escapst, heaven-helped, 
 And leavst thy shadow in the place? 
 Glad am I thou of heaven art, 
 And rules prescribed by man, 
 If thou must brook, 
 Thyself thou drawest hence, 
 And leavst dead words in thine untenanted 
 home. 
 
 16
 
 IN LOVES GARDEN AND OTHER VERSES
 
 LOVE'S GARDEN ^ 
 
 N this garden Love's fair 
 
 flowers 
 Bloom apace, 
 As they spring forth from 
 
 the heart, 
 Their root and chief 
 
 resource. 
 Fadeless flowers, 
 Born of hours 
 In Love's life. 
 
 Walk you in this garden, 
 Your own garden. 
 Live these hours, 
 See these flowers 
 Face to face; 
 Your own hours, 
 Your own flowers. 
 
 19
 
 LOVE'S CONQUEST 
 
 Love came soft 
 
 When sleep was on, 
 
 And stole a look, 
 
 And left a kiss 
 
 On his closed eyelids. 
 
 Then softly did she leave, 
 
 As softly as she came. 
 
 The kiss did sink into those orbs of blue, 
 
 And wrought a vision there. 
 
 Again Love came, 
 
 And stole a look, 
 
 And left a kiss 
 
 On his dew'd lips. 
 
 And this was wrought into a song. 
 
 Yet once again came Love, 
 
 And pressed her lips upon his heart. 
 
 And there was wrought upon that heart 
 
 Her goddess face, 
 
 All full of tenderness and grace. 
 
 And thus did love by stealth 
 
 Woo and win him for herself. 
 
 20
 
 LOVE'S SPIRIT-IMAGE 
 
 Round about me lurks his spirit, 
 
 Playing hide and seek 
 
 'Mongst the rifts of thought. 
 
 Now I pause, and there his image. 
 
 Back to work, 
 
 It sinks in darkness. 
 
 There again! the very moment 
 
 I lose hold the threads of tension, 
 
 Hovering round in wondrous nearness, 
 
 Pressing, drawing, and caressing. 
 
 Yet, O darling lover mine, 
 
 When I reach my hands to hold thee 
 
 Close unto my heart, 
 
 Nothingness I clasp unto me! 
 
 Pained and shamed and all pride-riven, 
 
 Foolish I, to let my eager senses 
 
 Think to press thee, Spirit-lover, 
 
 Close against this red-blood heart 
 
 That may never, never fold thee. 
 
 21
 
 LOVE'S PRIDE 
 
 Will you go? Then go! 
 
 I hold you not. 
 
 Can you spare no love? 
 
 'Tis well. 
 
 I would have it not! 
 
 But my heart, my heart shall weep. 
 
 What my lips deign not to ask, 
 
 O proud spirit! 
 
 22
 
 LOVE'S MESSAGE 
 Would I send the impress of Love 
 To lips I ne'er have touched? 
 Would I fold in close embrace 
 The heart that might recoil? 
 Ah, yes and more! 
 For Love cannot withhold its love. 
 It can but cast it forth, 
 Though fruitless still it fall. 
 But do the lips refuse? 
 And does the heart recoil? 
 Ah, no, not so, in this sweet dream, 
 Not dreamed in sleep, 
 But fancy-woven in the heart. 
 
 23
 
 LOVE'S KISS 
 
 The first kiss when and where? 
 
 All blessing on that time, 
 
 When heaven shall descend 
 
 And take the hour, 
 
 To have its will, to have its way. 
 
 No eye may look, but angel-eyes! 
 
 No form draw near, but angel-forms ! 
 
 To bless that sacred hour, 
 
 When soul meets soul 
 
 At the gateway of the lips. 
 
 24
 
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 LOVE'S DREAM 
 
 And now, sweet sleep , 
 
 That wrests our troubles from us 
 For so brief time, 
 Fold me in thine arms. 
 If not for all sweet cruel sleep, 
 Then for a space. 
 The dawn! how it gilds the hills, 
 How it floods the sky, 
 How it makes new a world 
 Young and fresh and beautiful, 
 From the sable night and the land of dreams. 
 Love tender child of Dawn, 
 Roseate, fair and sweet, 
 That makes new a life 
 From a faded day. 
 I wake, and O the joy! 
 Come I not forth 
 
 Fresh from the touch of his circling arms, 
 Radiant with light from his tender eyes, 
 And drawn by that smile 
 As the tide by the moon is drawn? 
 
 25
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 This all in dream in the dawn's first glow, 
 
 At the birds' first note. 
 
 Sweet dream ! faint shadow of the real. 
 
 But, ah, the real how can I know, 
 
 If yet the real 
 
 Be sweeter than the dream? 
 
 LOVE'S TREMBLING JOY 
 
 O them day-star, thou night-star, 
 Thou blessed lamp of life! 
 O if I should lose thee 
 God cleave the dark 
 And reach a hand!
 
 25 
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 -4" *^~ 
 
 LOVE'S DAY 
 
 That sweet, sweet day; 
 
 Let it live again in mind. 
 
 Here lie I, where he lay, 
 
 Pressing this friendly grass, 
 
 And gazing on that sky. 
 
 Methinks this cold earth pulsates 
 
 With a warmth of him, 
 
 Whose form is now replaced by mine. 
 
 I mingle in his being thus, 
 
 And drink the sweets he drank, 
 
 Of air and sky and sound, 
 
 On that delightful morn, 
 
 Now so changed, 
 
 But yet the same. 
 
 27
 
 His spirit hovers round me ; 
 
 A circling zone of light: 
 
 I breathe his being, 
 
 And our souls spring each to each. 
 
 These fair new blossoms I put forth 
 
 Are not mine all; 
 
 But mine and his sweet flowers, 
 
 Born of our souls in Love's pure garden.
 
 LOVE UNGATHERED 
 
 The last rose on the tree 
 
 Has shed its petals at my feet. 
 
 The autumn winds have blown a blast, 
 
 And summer's gone. 
 
 How many a one has plucked his rose, 
 
 And worn it on his heart: 
 
 While mine was left to bloom and die, 
 
 Its sweets ungathered. 
 
 Now Death shall be my rose, 
 
 And yield me perfume sweet. 
 
 I'll have no fear I'll miss my flower, 
 
 For Death blooms in the winter. 
 
 29
 
 LOVE'S ASHES 
 Heap high the pile! 
 Make bright the flame! 
 What youth's rose colors 
 In that flame! 
 What tears, what sighs, 
 What old time merriment! 
 What memories tender, 
 Clothed in youthful prattle, 
 Youthful ravings, 
 Rainbow colored, in that flame 
 Incense spreading in that flame 
 Cold and gray in that blue smoke. 
 But from the heap 
 Snatch now that sheet 
 O haste! for there is yet another, 
 Perishing with the rest. 
 These would I keep, 
 For they are sweet to me; 
 Not sweet for love that was, 
 But sweet for pain that was. 
 What pitiful longings unfulfilled, 
 What clinging, tender hopes, 
 
 30
 
 Which I, the strong, 
 
 The now matured, 
 
 The tempered in the fire, 
 
 Hold out before me 
 
 To witness fade and die 
 
 Yet once again. 
 
 These are their courses, 
 
 Fair, ah fair! 
 
 Lay them tenderly away, my heart, 
 
 Deep in thy bosom! 
 
 These fair, fair courses 
 
 Of a youthful love. 
 
 31
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 LOVE'S REFUSAL 
 
 You think me chary of my kisses! 
 
 I cannot tell you how 
 
 My kiss is born of love! 
 
 To press your lips in fond embrace 
 
 Is Heaven's eternal seal! 
 
 To you, 'tis but a pretty fancy 
 
 A fleeting golden moment, 
 
 You care not to remember. 
 
 Or if, perchance, you do remember, 
 
 'Tis but a passing thought of pleasure. 
 
 Such knowledge chills 
 
 The tendrils that would cling, 
 
 And makes me hold from you 
 
 E'en that I fain would give! 
 
 32
 
 LOVE'S WAITING 
 
 To wait! to wait! 
 What fate! what fate! 
 How drag the hours; 
 How sink the powers: 
 A god might sigh, 
 Why chide my cry? 
 To wait, to wait, 
 What fate, what fate! 
 The sweet hopes die 
 As days go by; 
 The eyes in tears, 
 The heart in fears; 
 To wait, to wait, 
 What fate, what fate ! 
 Then haste, haste on, 
 Thou look'd for one! 
 Desire of soul and heart, 
 So long we part. 
 Why wait, why wait? 
 Sad fate, sad fate 
 For me, for thee 
 
 33
 
 All time to be! 
 
 And so I wait, 
 
 Though late, though late; 
 
 And how I pray 
 
 For thee this day! 
 
 LOVE'S COST 
 
 Why ever looked I on that face, 
 
 Whose pure, sweet soul, 
 
 Seen from those eyes, 
 
 Heard from those lips, 
 
 And felt through that majestic presence, 
 
 Shall haunt me evermore? 
 
 What god or demon willed it so: 
 
 To give love birth, 
 
 Then slip pain in its stead, 
 
 And add immortal life? 
 
 Ah! pain unending: 
 
 For one look on love 
 
 How dear a cost! 
 
 34
 
 LOVE'S PRANKS 
 
 List! Hark! Stop the work! 
 
 Love is at the door, 
 
 Low and light the tap. 
 
 If I ope the door, 
 
 Will he enter now, 
 
 Or but look and listen as before, 
 
 With one foot upon the threshold; 
 
 Till the heart, all o'erwrought, 
 
 Leaves her work unfinished, 
 
 Gathering dust, 
 
 While she stands forlorn, 
 
 Sighing, hoping, and entreating Love 
 
 To enter and possess? 
 
 But Love does not enter; 
 
 But Love will not enter. 
 
 To thy work, O heart deceived 
 
 O heart enchanted. 
 
 Love's but stealing of thy sweets, 
 
 As the thieving bee 
 
 Pausing on the flower: 
 
 He to other flowers will go 
 
 35
 
 Soon enough, soon enough! 
 
 'Tis the honey that he wants, 
 
 Not the flower! 
 
 But, O troubled watcher, 
 
 Close not tight thy door; 
 
 Yield some sweets to Love, 
 
 While he lingers, while he stays. 
 
 If he will not enter, 
 
 If he will not earnest be, 
 
 Come to dwell with thee, 
 
 Treat him as he treats; 
 
 But yield not thy heart! 
 
 That too sacred, too divine 
 
 For Love's pastime! 
 
 Keep that for a worthy hour. 
 
 36
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 LOVE'S DISCOVERY 
 
 I found the home of my beloved, 
 
 All hid in vines and flowers, 
 
 All quiet in the moonlight. 
 
 'Twas e'en a temple, where my heart 
 
 Bowed from afar in love and longing 
 
 A temple where my feet might never enter. 
 
 O pain delicious! 
 
 To worship at Love's shrine, 
 
 But ne'er that love possess. 
 
 O heaven found: O heaven lost! 
 
 O joy of joys! 
 
 O pain of pains! 
 
 37
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 LOVE'S DAWN 
 
 'Twas in Love's dawn the tender waking,- 
 
 Love, all rose-colored, stole upon me, 
 
 And stood, a smiling goddess, there. 
 
 I kissed her garment's hem. 
 
 Each thing she touched, 
 
 Each thing she looked upon, 
 
 Was wrought into an altar, 
 
 Where my heart was wont to worship. 
 
 All the world was then a temple 
 
 For Love's sake! 
 
 A sweet fane to linger in 
 
 At night, at morn, 
 
 And in each vagrant hour, 
 
 Caught napping by the way. 
 
 And then one only song I sang, 
 
 As Time sweet wings did take: 
 
 SONG 
 
 All the world's a gala day, 
 And the heart is out a-Maying; 
 Sweet, sweet hours, 
 Gathering flowers 
 For to lay at fair Love's feet. 
 
 38
 
 When was ever life so rich, 
 
 When was ever earth so sweet, 
 
 As these hours 
 
 Gathering flowers 
 
 For to lay at fair Love's feet? 
 
 39
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 LOVE'S DESPAIR 
 
 I kiss you again, again, sweet, 
 
 In dreams, in waking dreams, 
 
 Be you alive, or be you dead, 
 
 You know it not, sweet! 
 
 Your soul is not of my soul, 
 
 And hence no bridge can ever span 
 
 The gulf that lies betwixt us, 
 
 Whereon your soul might cross to mine, 
 
 And feel that kiss, and know that love 
 
 That burns for naught, for naught, sweet! 
 
 LOVE'S HOPE 
 
 We dwell in different worlds, sweet: 
 
 You cannot come to me, 
 
 But when your soul is born 
 
 Into the place I am, 
 
 Then joy of joys, and light of light, 
 
 You will be mine; 
 
 And all the worlds will then rejoice 
 
 At joy so great! 
 
 40
 
 LOVE'S UNHEEDED LANGUAGE 
 
 "I love you, I love you !" 
 
 The heart o'er running speaks: 
 
 "I love you, I love you!" 
 
 The tell-tale eyes and cheeks repeat. 
 
 "I love you, I love you!" 
 
 The willing hands, and ready feet, 
 
 And thoughtful mind in chorus join. 
 
 "You see it not? You feel it not?" 
 
 O blessed dullard you! 
 
 LOVE'S PHANTOM SORROW 
 
 Dost think I did not love thee? 
 
 O that these tears might turn to flowers, 
 
 These sighs breathe forth the breath of spring, 
 
 And I might sink in this great sorrow, 
 
 As on a bed of roses 
 
 Suffused with sweetness, 
 
 Though beset with thorns! 
 
 41
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 LOVE'S JOY 
 
 "He loves me, he loves me!" 
 The joyous heart outbursts. 
 "He loves me, he loves me!" 
 A thousand voices echo back 
 From sky and sea, 
 From wood and field; 
 "He loves me, he loves me!" 
 From bird and brook, 
 From home and street; 
 "He loves me, he loves me!" 
 Until no sound that heart can hear 
 From any voice in earth or sky, 
 But "He loves me, he loves me!" 
 
 42
 
 LOVE'S EXPECTATION 
 
 He is coming to me, my own! 
 
 Night breaketh day by this much nearer: 
 
 Day breaketh night by that much nearer: 
 
 so near! 
 
 1 almost feel the clasp of his hand, 
 
 I almost breathe the breath of his breath, 
 As my thoughts rush out to meet him. 
 O queen that I am, 
 Though I see no crown, 
 My throne here already 
 And he beside me! 
 
 43
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 LOVE'S EYES 
 
 Two eyes I see in the mists of life; 
 Two eyes I feel two blue, blue eyes; 
 Two eyes that ruleth me 
 Compel my thoughts to fly to thee, 
 
 heart of mine, far, far estranged ! 
 
 1 know not when, I know not how. 
 Thy fortunes, too, I know not of, 
 Nor where thou art, 
 
 All hid from me, all veiled in dark: 
 
 But eyes of blue, thou eyes of blue, 
 
 From out this dark 
 
 Thou lookest straight at me, 
 
 And movest my doubting heart 
 
 To thoughts of my lost love, 
 
 Lest I forget, unconscious to myself. 
 
 O eyes of blue, be ever such a light, 
 
 To light me to thee, heart of mine! 
 
 That my whole life 
 
 May flow to thee, 
 
 In thought born of this light, 
 
 And draw thee back to me. 
 
 44
 
 LOVE'S REMEMBRANCE 
 
 For thee I shall plant a rose! 
 
 And wear it in my hair, 
 
 Or breathe its fragrance from my bodice, 
 
 Or look into its purest purity 
 
 From a vase of Attic mold, 
 
 While I muse, or while I work. 
 
 In morning hours, 
 
 Fresh from the garden cut, 
 
 With dew upon its lips; 
 
 Or in the evening, 
 
 With the lingering blush of sunset on its 
 
 cheeks, 
 
 So shall it be this rose, 
 In place of thy sweet presence 
 Loved and lost! 
 And this shall be our secret! 
 
 45
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 LOVE'S MEASURE 
 
 My love no measure knew 
 
 Until by chance, one day, 
 
 My thoughts dwelt on a jeweled piece 
 
 Hung round the neck of my beloved, 
 
 That boded rivalry. 
 
 It thrust my heart a poinard sharp ! 
 
 And dead in faint it fell. 
 
 In vain all efforts made 
 
 To start the springs of life, 
 
 For still my heart lies prone, 
 
 Lost in unconsciousness. 
 
 46
 
 LOVE'S PRESENCE 
 
 His presence fills this place 
 
 As incense sweet. 
 
 This street he walked! 
 
 That scene he looked upon! 
 
 Here he labored, here aspired, 
 
 Here tasted joy and pain. 
 
 There, on that quiet hill, 
 
 The grave of one he loved, 
 
 Green by his hand 
 
 And hallowed by his tears ; 
 
 At the turning of this lane, 
 
 Safe lodged his heart 
 
 In the resting place of home ; 
 
 And round that home 
 
 Twine memories dewed with joy 
 
 And memories wet with tears : 
 
 Fond faces looked on him, 
 
 Whose love his eyes looked back; 
 
 Words, gentle, tender, low, 
 
 Were spoken from loved lips. 
 
 47
 
 Now, all these gone, save but these shells 
 
 Of house, and tree, and hedge, and road, 
 
 And he, too, gone far from these scenes! 
 
 Ah, gone? How false that word! 
 
 How art thou gone? 
 
 I see thee everywhere I turn, 
 
 In street, in shop; by wood, and stream 
 
 I feel thy presence always near, 
 
 O heart most dear, most dear! 
 
 LOVE'S LONGING 
 
 Would I could impart my soul 
 Bare of all words to you : 
 Words that confuse, impede 
 The passage of the thought between. 
 
 But could you then divine 
 The thought I'd have you share? 
 You! whom words have given no hint 
 Of the soul-play underneath? 
 
 48
 
 LOVE'S WAY 
 
 If I do not much mistake, 
 
 Love chooses a perilous way: 
 
 In truth, she holds out all those charms 
 
 For which my heart has longed: 
 
 But with those long-sought joys 
 
 Are mingled much of ominous mien, 
 
 The which, would trouble me, 
 
 Persuade my discreet mind, 
 
 And judgment true, 
 
 From taking Love for life; 
 
 But Love so confidant, so pressing, 
 
 So sweet, so all entrancing, says 
 
 "Fear not; 
 
 If thou wilt go with me, 
 
 I will transform these all 
 
 So thou wilt see them not, 
 
 But only me." 
 
 Then hesitate not, timid heart, 
 
 To follow Love's request; 
 
 There wait thee all thy hopes 
 
 If thou but give a trustful hand; 
 
 49
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 No trial them canst not withstand, 
 
 No sorrow sink beneath, 
 
 No labor yet too hard for thee 
 
 When thou in Love dost rest; 
 
 For she will hold thee, she will fold thee, 
 
 In her tender arms of strength, 
 
 Invulnerable to things, and to thyself! 
 
 so
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 LOVE'S CHOICE 
 
 Radiant with the glow of the west upon my 
 
 face, 
 
 Fresh with the scent of poesy upon my lips, 
 Sad with the world-cares on my heart, 
 The pencil moves my thoughts to light, 
 From their dark recess in the mind: 
 My soul confused by light and shadow, 
 Rended by this sweet and sadness, 
 Breaks forth in broken song. 
 Music soft, help me to sing 
 The song that lieth on my heart, 
 To gather up its scattered chords 
 In one full song of cheer, 
 A fitting tribute to my Love. 
 
 SONG 
 
 My Love shall be a princess 
 
 With eyes of Heaven's blue, 
 
 And cheeks the tint of a tender west; 
 
 With lips made fresh by rosy spring 
 
 That wells from her young heart; 
 
 Her hair of silken spider threads, 
 
 51
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 Kissed by the lips of light, 
 
 And twined in many a wandering curl. 
 
 Her form, that grace and sweetness mixed, 
 
 The image of the queen to be; 
 
 A voice 'twould vie with Orpheus', 
 
 To call the trees and flowers; 
 
 And hands and feet the thrice delight, 
 
 And thrice despair of artist eyes: 
 
 All these shall dress my princess 
 
 Fit for her princely Lord. 
 
 Then from within a voice of doubt; 
 
 "But will she have a soul more fair 
 
 Than one who loves thee well, 
 
 Whose face is plain, 
 
 Whose form no goddess fair might choose, 
 
 But of that soul, what words? 
 
 Has it no eyes of Heaven's blue, 
 
 And cheeks of evening sky : 
 
 No lips made fresh by rosy spring, 
 
 No gold spun hair to nestle in 
 
 Thine eyes, and cheeks, and hungering lips? 
 
 No form of queenly grace, 
 
 And voice of bird and brook; 
 
 52
 
 No hands and feet the envy of 
 
 A wandering spirit dropped to earth?" 
 
 Wait, wavering heart, be quiet now: 
 Love I the soul more, or the body? 
 Then let me choose. 
 
 53
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 LOVE'S FEAR 
 
 O Love, have I lost your hold? 
 
 Is it dark that I cannot see you? 
 
 Am I dead that I cannot feel you? 
 
 Are you there, Love? 
 
 Press my hand for the answer, 
 
 Touch my lips for a sign, 
 
 So I shall know I have not lost you ! 
 
 O to lose you would be death! 
 
 Then truest, truest Love, 
 
 Closer press my hand, 
 
 Lay your lips now on my heart, 
 
 So its beats shall feel 
 
 Your warm kiss. 
 
 Now, I know, Love, you are there! 
 
 54
 
 35 
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 LOVE'S LATE COMING 
 
 Can I hope at the gates of sunset 
 To gather a flower of dawn 
 Love, pride of the garden 
 And queen of all? 
 
 Can I hope to gather Love's fruit, 
 Apples of Life, 
 
 Whose taste will open the eyes of the taster 
 To knowledge of joy? 
 
 My own I claim, 
 The fruit that had no blossom; 
 The luscious vintage of the noon, 
 And of the western sun. 
 
 Fruit of day without a dawn, 
 
 Aurora's beauteous child of night, 
 
 Twilight-countenanced, 
 
 And draped in clouds of gold, 
 
 And sunset glory. 
 
 O voice within, O voice without, 
 Raise not in accent 'gainst this claim, 
 My soul's true heritage. 
 
 55
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 LOVE'S DESPERATION 
 
 Why at this fearful cost? 
 
 These torturous uncertainties ! 
 
 These heart aches, heart breaks! 
 
 Strivings to the death! 
 
 Is there so much of worth in this one? 
 
 Are there not others full as fair? 
 
 For others there be other, 
 
 But there is none for me, 
 
 None other in the cycling worlds 
 
 My soul's true mate! 
 
 56
 
 OTHER VERSES
 
 THE NEARING MILESTONE 
 YOUTH 
 
 SHALL weep that day 
 Upon the neck of Youth, 
 Who now has turned to 
 
 view herself, 
 And for the first time hides 
 
 her face. 
 For lo ! the roses withered 
 
 and the color fled, 
 She hastens from the circle 
 
 gay 
 
 Of nimble feet, and song and dance, 
 To seek a spot apart 
 To weep alone. 
 
 She cannot find a place 
 
 Among that busy throng, 
 
 Who long have cast their flowers away, 
 
 And found a sweeter recompense 
 
 In gratitude won from a suffering world, 
 
 To whom they minister, 
 
 For she has all this while 
 
 Been busy with her roses. 
 
 59
 
 She cannot join the crowd 
 
 That sit, serene and well content, 
 
 Around their cheerful hearths, 
 
 Pressing their withered flowers, 
 
 And sighing, "True they die, 
 
 But others here more sweet. 
 
 Let's bless the gods of Time 
 
 Who steal the sweet but leave the sweeter," 
 
 For still upon her, cling 
 
 The robes of maidenhood. 
 
 She cannot join that shining band 
 
 That say: "Lo! Youth, how empty, how 
 
 deceived, 
 
 These laurels better far 
 Than all the roses Youth has worn," 
 For in her hand she holds no crown. 
 
 Alas ! where must she go, 
 
 This lorn, unhappy Youth? 
 
 Her once spring-garments faded; 
 
 She has no home in all the earth. 
 
 Ah! she must die! unloved, unsung! 
 
 A garland, stranger, for her bier ! 
 
 A tear, O world, for her lone grave! 
 
 60
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 LOVE 
 
 I shall weep that day, 
 
 Upon the neck of Love; 
 
 That I have long pursued 
 
 In pain and torture, 
 
 Held by fascination of her charms, 
 
 As one who chases rainbows. 
 
 I shall weep because we part, 
 
 For I have called her from afar, 
 
 To stay her steps that may be weary, 
 
 From fleeing long and hard: 
 
 "Return, thou oft pursued, 
 
 Thou longed for, yearned for, all in vain; 
 
 Fear not! I will not harm thee; 
 
 I will no more pursue; 
 
 Come, give thy hand 
 
 In sad farewell. 
 
 But let me weep upon thy neck, 
 
 In one long fond embrace: 
 
 These tears have e'en a balm 
 
 To sooth this heart that breaks, 
 
 But, ah, can break no more, 
 
 Immune forever from thy charms." 
 
 61
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 Thus shall I weep upon thy neck, 
 
 On that sad day, 
 
 O loved, O lost ! 
 
 O dearest loss of all 
 
 On that sad day, 
 
 So long to come, so feared, 
 
 But all so quickly gone, 
 
 For other days of toil and pain, 
 
 And ah, perchance of joy, 
 
 A joy made new, 
 
 Of different mien, 
 
 Unseen, unknown, unborn, 
 
 To that sad day. 
 
 LIFE 
 
 And I shall weep that day, 
 Upon the neck of Life, 
 So poor, so all in rags, 
 That started on the years 
 With gold in hand 
 Those talents lent to all, 
 That still lie in the hand, 
 But small increased. 
 
 62
 
 O Life, what hast thou done 
 
 With all these years, 
 
 That thou in rags 
 
 Must still be clad, 
 
 When costly garments should attire thee, 
 
 And wealth lie in thy lap? 
 
 O Life, we shall not part: 
 Would that these tears 
 Might waken thy dry heart, 
 To put forth verdure fresh; 
 That lo ! the years to come 
 Might reap from this late spring 
 A glorious harvest yet. 
 
 O Life, let's look for this! 
 
 We two must still keep on, 
 
 When these have gone their way. 
 
 We cannot part, 
 
 One cannot die without the other. 
 
 And as I weep upon thy neck, 
 
 On that sad day, 
 
 My fondest wish, these acrid tears 
 
 Give force to fill the unborn years, 
 
 Full to the brim, 
 
 With winter's fruit. 
 
 63
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 "SOMETIME" PICTURES 
 
 These "sometime" pictures that come and go 
 
 When the eyes are closed, 
 
 And the mind is still, 
 
 Ere the dream-land folds have closed it in. 
 
 Such mountains, and skies, and plains, 
 
 That break into landscapes fair, 
 
 And come and go on the closed lids, 
 
 In quick panoramic view! 
 
 Such pictures, no artist ever paints; 
 
 Such pictures, no poet ever dreams; 
 
 Such pictures, no eyes have seen awake ! 
 
 But enough you know not what I mean, 
 
 If you have never seen 
 
 These pictures come and go, 
 
 When your eyes were closed, 
 
 And your mind lay quiet though awake, 
 
 On the border-land of dream. 
 
 64
 
 DEATH'S TRANSFORMATION 
 
 O blessed is that Death, 
 
 That brings us closer yet than Life, 
 
 As the years slip by ! 
 
 That cuts all branches from the tree, 
 
 But the limbs of Love, 
 
 Until the tree at last 
 
 Is left of Love entire. 
 
 THE TWO TEMPLES 
 
 At the parting of this road, 
 
 Two temples stand: 
 
 Stern duty points to one, 
 
 But my heart is with the other. 
 
 I go where duty points. 
 
 Still my heart is with the other. 
 
 O loved hills, and trees, and skies! 
 
 sacred house of prayer! 
 
 1 thank, thee, Father, for these both, 
 For both are Thine. 
 
 65
 
 THE IDEALIST 
 
 Past twelve ! past twelve ! 
 
 The hands set towards the West, 
 
 And day declines. 
 
 What work progressing? Tools about, 
 
 And the workman in his shop: 
 
 What pieces done? No form complete; 
 
 But the Master hopes to fashion, 
 
 The pieces in his hand, 
 
 Perfect in Truth and Beauty, 
 
 Like the model shining before him. 
 
 This is his dream; 
 
 And he lives in his dream, 
 
 While time slips away, 
 
 Till death one day 
 
 Takes hold his hand, 
 
 And the dream comes true. 
 
 66
 
 VOICELESS HUMANITY 
 
 Alas! the poor mute lips, 
 
 That cannot speak their tale of woe : 
 
 Fixed like stone, without a voice, 
 
 That need must wait, 
 
 Dumb servitors of Fate, 
 
 For a poet to give them voice! 
 
 Some tearful Shelly 
 
 Bemoaning upon the shore, 
 
 May pour his voice to the answering waves; 
 
 But these dumb souls, 
 
 With woes as heavy, 
 
 And hearts as broken, 
 
 Must suffer, standing mute, 
 
 Like tearless stone! 
 
 67
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 THE DEATH 
 
 There was a death within our house, 
 
 Last night! 
 
 O how you'd laugh, 
 
 If I should tell; 
 
 And hold your hands 
 
 In mirthful, mock derision, 
 
 At one so puerilely tender, 
 
 To call it death, 
 
 The agonizing of a mouse 
 
 Caught in a trap. 
 
 Yet, none the less, 'twas death, 
 
 Which we, too, once must feel, 
 
 And pain that makes us thus akin 
 
 To creatures such as this, 
 
 So scorned, that pain to them, or death, 
 
 Is but a theme for cruel sport. 
 
 Ah, Love! art so perverted? 
 
 Or, are there different loves, 
 
 One for our kind, 
 
 A great, broad, royal feeling, 
 
 And one for creatures such as this? 
 
 68
 
 Then Love is not so much to me: 
 
 For I dream higher things of Love. 
 
 I would believe that Love 
 
 Is all-enfolding, all-heart-reaching, 
 
 That even to the meanest creature, 
 
 It bendeth down 
 
 In tenderness and pity, 
 
 To feel a pain, to ease a wound, 
 
 E'en though that creature 
 
 Were an insect, 
 
 E'en though that creature 
 
 Were a noisome pest. 
 
 This much of pity is its right, 
 
 If Love be sent of God, 
 
 If Love be God.
 
 THE VISION 
 
 Keep clear thine eye, 
 
 Keep true thine heart, 
 
 Nor faint, nor cease, 
 
 Nor slack thy patience: 
 
 Then in a moment, 
 
 When thou thinkest not, 
 
 The heavens will unfold, 
 
 The glory will descend, 
 
 The vision will appear; 
 
 And overcome with seraph joy, 
 
 Thou then shall faint, 
 
 Thou then shall fall, 
 
 But Gratitude shall wake unconsciousness, 
 
 And Love shall lift thee to thy feet. 
 
 70
 
 THE NEW DAY 
 
 As I open my eyes, 
 
 Day stares at me, 
 
 And Night with a beckoning hand: 
 
 "I relieved thee these long hours, 
 
 And took thee to my land of dream, 
 
 To wander free 
 
 And rest thy labored limbs. 
 
 Take up the burden now again, 
 
 And travel this new day, 
 
 So like that yesterday: 
 
 But ah! perchance so changed, 
 
 Yea, thou thyself art changed, 
 
 For I have made thee all anew 
 
 Have woven with my spell, 
 
 All past experience and knowledge, 
 
 Into a fabric different, 
 
 So that, a stranger to thyself, 
 
 Thou goest forth 
 
 With each new day. 
 
 Knowst thou what dost await thee 
 
 In this day? 
 
 No signs forewarn thee, good or ill, 
 
 71
 
 In that bright sun, 
 
 That blazes through thy window; 
 
 Or in those boisterous shouts 
 
 Of roused rejoicing life. 
 
 Thou livest to the direst ill, 
 
 But all unconscious; 
 
 As moves the unwarned train, 
 
 Upon the yawning gulf. 
 
 Thou stumblest unawares 
 
 On richest opportunity, 
 
 As on a hidden treasure. 
 
 Look not for either, 
 
 In this day, 
 
 But take thou hold the wheels of toil, 
 
 Content, if only, at my call, 
 
 Thou hast persisted hard, 
 
 And earned thy hours of rest, 
 
 Which I have given thee, 
 
 And still will give again. 
 
 'Tis heaven's portion to the just and unjust, 
 
 But sweeter to the just. 
 
 List! now the wheels of toil are creaking, 
 
 The air resounds with labor. 
 
 72
 
 Stay thou not longer here 
 With Night's receding spirit, 
 But to thy work!" 
 
 LITTLE BROWN TOADSTOOLS 
 
 Sweet little brown toadstools, 
 
 Huddled all in a heap ; 
 
 Nine bonny caps, 
 
 Just pushed from the rain-softened mould. 
 
 This picture I caught, 
 
 In one rapid glance, 
 
 And held, as I hurried along, 
 
 While the soul of their soul 
 
 Went into my soul, 
 
 And breathed forth a gladness there; 
 
 And I felt more akin, 
 
 In a new subtle way, 
 
 To the great loving heart of Nature, 
 
 And I fain had caressed 
 
 Those nine bonny heads, 
 
 That nestled so jauntily there, 
 
 On the lap of their warm earth-mother. 
 
 73 
 
 10
 
 ACHIEVE 
 
 Achieve! achieve! O soul, thine own, 
 
 God on His throne is keeping it 
 
 Close in his hand for thee. 
 
 Reach forth and take, 
 
 Nor Fate, nor Death, nor worlds, 
 
 Can wrest it from thee; 
 
 For He holds it. 
 
 Thine own eternal portion, 
 
 Bequeathed that day He did beget thee, 
 
 And waiting, waiting, 
 
 E'en though for eons, 
 
 For thy claim. 
 
 Why then a world between, 
 Why then the flight of ages? 
 This day thy right possess, 
 This day achieve, 
 O soul, thine own! 
 
 74
 
 THE RAIN 
 
 Methought my mind absorbed in dreams 
 It was a drum I heard. 
 'Twas but the rain, 
 Tattooing on the window-pane. 
 
 The gushing rain, pell-mell it fell 
 Upon the roof's decline, 
 With here a drop, and there a drip, 
 Down from the house's eaves. 
 
 The poor grass laughed, 
 
 And reached its head; 
 
 The flowers spread wide their cups. 
 
 Ah ! laughter was heard in the farmer's heart, 
 
 Its ripples touched his face, 
 
 And the whole great world of Nature round, 
 
 Echoed back the sound, 
 
 Of the drip, drop, on the house's eaves, 
 
 The drum on the window pane. 
 
 75
 
 THE CAPTIVE BIRD 
 
 A prisoner he, 
 In that tiny cage ; 
 His song the color 
 Of his lonely heart 
 Sad chirps, low trills, 
 His birdling sighs. 
 
 Yet sometimes he forgets his grief, 
 And warbles forth a note of cheer, 
 A love song round and full, 
 To a mate he feigns to see; 
 Each atom of his little being, 
 Vibrates with his birdling's soul, 
 Quivering like a wind-touched palm; 
 While the music bubbles forth. 
 But soon, the rapturous flood of love 
 Falls back to lonely chirps, 
 And the tiny frame 
 Shrinks tinier in loneliness. 
 
 76
 
 OUTWARD BOUND 
 
 Give me a ship a big ship ! 
 
 I go upon the seas; 
 
 Be thou my captain, 
 
 Maker of the worlds. 
 
 The seas I do not know, 
 
 Nor of that bourn I would arrive, 
 
 Destined of thee, 
 
 E'er the worlds were formed. 
 
 Farewell, this land-bound harbor! 
 
 Farewell, these placid waters ! 
 
 The ocean calls, the ocean calls. 
 
 Haste, loose the anchor, 
 
 And away, away, 
 
 To the unknown waves, 
 
 To the unknown winds, 
 
 And the unknown shores beyond. 
 
 77
 
 jd^j&gs^g&F^afeg^^ 
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 THE CENTURY PLANT 
 
 The time of fruiting has arrived! 
 
 I must put forth 
 
 In one year what I strove in ten: 
 
 In one quick growth, 
 
 The measure of a life: 
 
 The long, the dull, the tedious many, 
 
 The strong, the rapid, glorious few. 
 
 Without the first what then the last? 
 
 Without the last, why then the first? 
 
 Come air, and sky, and earth, and all, 
 
 And yield a willing aid, 
 
 For this last growth this bloom, 
 
 My life my death! 
 
 78
 
 So quiet and so comfortable, 
 Whom ambition stirs no more: 
 Who watch the years' procession pass, 
 As they who dally at the river's brink, 
 Gazing at the purling waters move 
 Onward towards the great sea's bourn? 
 
 Gone the glowing flowers of youth ! 
 Lost the blush from off the grape! 
 Stolen the sweet from out the honey ! 
 Subdued they walk beneath the stars, 
 No hands outstretched. 
 
 Lo! these are they with vision lost, 
 Whom Nature's anaesthesia has o'erpowered: 
 They breathe it in with deeper breath 
 At each new milestone's turn, 
 Nor fight the death-fraught power, 
 Content to sleep the years away, 
 Content to lose their crown! 
 
 79
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 Shall I, too, be overcome, 
 
 And let my birthright 
 
 Gently loosen from my hand? 
 
 Ye gods forbid! 
 
 Infuse into my veins immortal youth, 
 
 And rouse the dead'ning sense, 
 
 By soul-awakening pangs of hunger: 
 
 This continue till full-ripened life 
 
 Drops from the stem. 
 
 BEAUTY 
 
 A boon, I ask, 
 
 O loved All-Father! 
 
 Beauty in all things to see, 
 
 (So must the eyes of poets be) ; 
 
 Beauty in all things to feel, 
 
 (So must the hearts of poets be) ; 
 
 No thing too small, 
 
 Too common or despised, 
 
 To yield its world to beauty, 
 
 And fill the heart, day piled on day, 
 
 More full of thee, God, 
 
 One with Beauty. 
 
 so
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 11 -^^ r ^^^^^^ 
 
 THE POET'S CHILD 
 
 I needs must let you go, 
 
 Strange, unfathomed child, 
 
 Form and likeness of my soul, 
 
 Prayed for, brooded on, and wept o'er! 
 
 Child of anguish and of toil, 
 
 Child of love and hope, 
 
 Aye, scorned at times and hated! 
 
 I lose you from my heart at last, 
 
 To wander in a stranger world! 
 
 I cannot analyze nor understand you, 
 
 Child of mine, 
 
 More, mayhap, than they who meet you! 
 
 If perchance your image 
 
 May be like unto their own, 
 
 Some comfort may be theirs, 
 
 In sympathy and companionship. 
 
 If not, you still must stand, 
 
 My own true child, 
 
 Unfathomed but by God! 
 
 Who knows with what heart tremblings 
 I now release your hand; 
 I, who all these years, 
 
 81 
 
 11
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 Have held you here, 
 Secreted near my heart, 
 Part of me mine own self, 
 Life of my life, 
 Breath of my breath. 
 
 I cannot longer hold you, 
 
 Else you may perish in my grasp 
 
 For other lives to live in, 
 
 To grow, increase, be part of them. 
 
 I now unclasp you from my heart, 
 
 My own soul's likeness, 
 
 Living by this breath from me! 
 
 Go forth and live your life, 
 
 For I to fuller life must haste, 
 
 To breathe forth others such as thou.
 
 THE MOCKING BIRD AND THE 
 CRICKET 
 
 A night like this the mocking bird, 
 Full drunk with love's red wine, 
 Had flooded all the moonlit vale 
 With the boisterous voice of spring. 
 
 Now silent is that voice, 
 Gone with the spring, the joy; 
 But from his grassy tent, 
 The cricket cometh forth. 
 
 How soothing is his level chirp, 
 That lies along the earth, 
 Nor ever seeks to soar 
 Above his leafy bower. 
 
 He thrills me not, nor lifts me 
 Heavenward, to wing among the stars, 
 And revel in those wild delights, 
 A feast for gods. 
 
 But chirping cheerily through the night, 
 Over and over, his one song, 
 
 83
 
 Keyed to one droning note, 
 As a viol of a single string. 
 
 Drowsiness soft benumbs the sense, 
 The moonlit earth fades out of view, 
 And heavy slumber closes down 
 Upon the world of sight and sound. 
 
 O happy, cheery, humdrum cricket, 
 Thou fellow of the earth, 
 For tired out limbs and minds contented, 
 Thou makest music in thyself. 
 
 But thou, O bird of heaven and cloud, 
 
 That casts in wantonness about 
 
 Thy frenzied gladness ! 
 
 For poets wast thou fashioned, 
 
 That their tired souls, 
 
 Held long in tensest strain 
 
 By life's tight cords, 
 
 Might thus relax, 
 
 In exercise of joy.
 
 DREAM 
 
 'Twas only a dream, 
 
 Such a beautiful dream, 
 
 Sacred to him and me; 
 
 He of a world unknown, 
 
 Yet I loved him in this dream. 
 
 But even in dream, 
 
 A shadow fell 
 
 O'er him and me, 
 
 On the very hour of joy, 
 
 To filch it of its sweet. 
 
 But I said, Let fall, 
 
 'Tis ever so. Let's love 
 
 And gather joy, 
 
 Though it only last a day. 
 
 Let's drink, 
 
 Though it only be a sup, 
 
 And live all life in this moment, 
 
 Full knowing that crafty Death 
 
 Will claim as his share the rest. 
 
 But, crafty Death, 
 
 Thou art somewhat riven 
 
 85
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 Of thy black glory, 
 
 For thy ebon wings 
 
 Are edged with light, 
 
 The light of this one moment's bliss." 
 
 We drank, 
 
 And lived all life in that moment! 
 
 And gathered all bliss at a sup ! 
 
 In this dream, 
 
 This beautiful dream. 
 
 So, even in dream, 
 
 Love may still live on 
 
 Its sweet, though partial life, 
 
 Hot chased by pain, 
 
 To glean what joy must lose 
 
 (The greater share). 
 
 Soul looks on soul, 
 
 That deathless look, 
 
 Then parts, nor looks again. 
 
 But O sweet dream, 
 
 I keep you back, 
 
 And am loth to let you fade 
 
 86
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 Into the hosts of other dreams, 
 
 Forgotten long ago! 
 
 For you hold me by your spell, 
 
 In that one moment's bliss, 
 
 That reaches from dream unto waking, 
 
 That reaches from night unto light, 
 
 And shines as a star of the day. 
 
 THE COMING EVENT 
 
 Then, it was a month between, 
 
 And then a week, 
 
 And now a day: 
 
 And soon an hour 'twill be. 
 
 And O, the very moment follows on! 
 
 What if this thing were Death, 
 
 And Heaven so near, 
 
 Would I be fearful of the moment's brink? 
 
 87
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 THINE ARMOR 
 
 To work! O youth, 
 
 In thine own armor clad, 
 
 And strike thou to the death! 
 
 Assay not to adopt 
 
 A ready armor to thy hand, 
 
 For ease, or gain, or time, 
 
 Or seeming best convenience. 
 
 'Twill play thee false ! 
 
 Then choose and wisely, 
 
 Thy God-appointed armor. 
 
 This only can develop thee, 
 
 Thy brain's true brawn, 
 
 Thy soul's true steel, 
 
 This only gives thy hand its surest cut, 
 
 This only makes thee feel within 
 
 The rising God, 
 
 Strong-sheathed to conquer all. 
 
 No David in Saul's armor, 
 
 May fell the coming foe! 
 
 For Fear, thy archest enemy, 
 
 Lies hid in every fold 
 
 Of borrowed armor, 
 
 88
 
 To strike thee from within, 
 
 Before thou strikst without. 
 
 Then up, O budding hero, to thy work, 
 
 And in thy God-appointed armor! 
 
 A PASSING BREEZE 
 
 Soft a breeze comes down this way, 
 
 How the poppies hold their hats, 
 
 How the eucalypti bow, 
 
 How each pepper-leaf salutes, 
 
 Each its partner now. 
 
 How ashamed the grasses totter, 
 
 In uncertain poise; 
 
 What a shiver in the palms, 
 
 What a turning up of capes 
 
 In the clover lawn. 
 
 O you naughty breeze, 
 
 Such a havoc and a stir 
 
 You have made in leaf and blade, 
 
 By your sudden sally 
 
 Down our quiet way. 
 
 89 
 
 12
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 GRATITUDE 
 
 I thank thee, Father, 
 
 For that little sweet; 
 
 'Twas like a fresh spring draught 
 
 To parched lips. 
 
 'Twas like a soft cool touch 
 
 To a burning brow. 
 
 'Twas like a moment's pause 
 
 In hours of pain. 
 
 That little sweet, to think on, 
 
 That little sweet, to dream on, 
 
 More, more, to this starved heart 
 
 Than ten-times-ten that, to the full! 
 
 O sw,eet, sweet, tender thing of joy, 
 
 Thou savest me from Death! 
 
 90
 
 JP 
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 THE REALMS OF SPIRIT 
 
 Youth, youth and roses stay, 
 
 Stay in the soul and keep me young! 
 
 Young to think with the youngest mind, 
 
 Young to feel with youngest heart, 
 
 Young to walk with the youngest feet, 
 
 That lead the way, 
 
 To regions unexplored, 
 
 To worlds ahead; 
 
 Worlds more vast, 
 
 Than lay before Columbus' gaze ; 
 
 Worlds whose shores 
 
 Stretch onward to infinity. 
 
 When all the soil of earth 
 
 Has felt the tread of man, 
 
 The highest point been scaled by him, 
 
 The deepest depth by him descended, 
 
 The farthest spot his common ground, 
 
 Still shall he look for worlds, 
 
 Worlds more vast, to conquer! 
 
 Then to his inner eye, 
 
 Shall loom those regions vast, 
 
 91
 
 IN LOVE'S GARDEN 
 
 Unconquered, unexplored, 
 And he shall rise unto the task, 
 Shall rise and conquer. 
 
 THE INWARD URGE 
 
 The skies are brass ! 
 
 The gods have turned to stone ! 
 
 This clay has played me false! 
 
 The will, shame-faced, 
 
 A coward, slinks away. 
 
 Rigidity sets in, 
 
 As one gripped in the vise of death ; 
 
 And yet, I may not pause, 
 
 But on, and on, and on! 
 
 A force within crowds up this cumb'rous mass 
 
 To reach its God-appointed complement. 
 
 I move, I still reach out, 
 
 As a weakling blade of grass, 
 
 Strong from a force within, 
 
 Pushes forth for light! 
 
 92
 
 MAN'S GOD-LIKE GIFT 
 
 One thought the high born race of gods,- 
 
 Who walk in pain this mortal world 
 
 Have left for solace. 
 
 O glorious scorn ! They can refuse ! 
 
 Fate may snatch from out their grasp, 
 
 All things they would; 
 
 But O, delusive Fate, 
 
 Have they not looked on heaven 
 
 E'er ever the worlds were born? 
 
 The cheap earth substitutes 
 
 Thrust in their eyes, 
 
 They can refuse; and still have strength 
 
 To walk in god-like solitude their way. 
 
 93
 
 ONE VENTURE 
 
 I've ventured all in one argosy! 
 
 If the winds blow foul, 
 
 Then all is lost, save this : 
 
 To be called a fool by the hard-eyed world, 
 
 That counts not the courage of the venture, 
 
 Nor yields aught to him 
 
 Whose Argosy fails its harbor. 
 
 But be it a fool then,- or a god; 
 
 (It cannot fail of one). 
 
 The true heart can but venture 
 
 His all in a noble cause, 
 
 Else his conscience brands him fool within ; 
 
 Or, losing the world brands him fool without. 
 
 The winds of Fortune 
 
 Who can determine? 
 
 The venture alone is sure! 
 
 The highest reward is that! 
 
 E'er ever the vessel moves ; 
 
 For God counts the venture, 
 
 While man counts the gain of the venture.
 
 Yet sweet to him who has ventured 
 
 Is the ladened vessel's return 
 
 The visible winnings of labor 
 
 Though it count not with God ; 
 
 Though he care not the count of man 
 
 Yet sweet to himself, 
 
 The success of his dear-bought venture, 
 
 That cost him a world, 
 
 Though that world be a bauble! 
 
 95
 
 The writing of this book 
 was done by Ida Frances 
 Anderson. The designs of 
 the headings were by Alma 
 Cock, the typographical ar 
 rangement by Charles H. 
 Smith, and the presswork 
 by Arthur 1J. Jason. The 
 book as a whole was de 
 signed and made by George 
 Wharton James at the Ar 
 royo Guild Press, 201 Avenue 
 Sixty-six (Garvanza), Los 
 Angeles, California, in the 
 year of grace, 1909.
 
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