THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 IRVINE 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 R. BENNETT WEAVER 
 
LYRICS IN PROSE AND VERSE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 BRENTANO S 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
 FROJVC 
 
 QUIET QARVEN ^ 
 
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 MAY PRESTON SLOSSON 
 
TO MY HUSBAND 
 AND 
 
 MY SON 
 
THE GARDEN 
 
 They had drawn very near each other, altho 
 twenty years lay between them. Both were tall 
 and strong and beautiful, tho in the eyes of one 
 Hope smiled, and in the eyes of the other Memory 
 brooded. The Woman spoke softly to the girl: 
 "Will you walk in my garden?" And the girl 
 knew she had received the highest honor. 
 
 They entered the garden thru a low gate about 
 which morning-glories twined. And the girl 
 smiled at the flowers all about her, for they were 
 the frank favorites of childhood. They grew in 
 her own garden. 
 
 As they passed on they reached paths flecked 
 with doubtful sunshine, wandering among tall lilies 
 like white dreams, and the girl looked at her com 
 panion sisterwise, for it was all like her own 
 garden. 
 
 But they strayed on into a band of rose-hued 
 light athwart the path. Red roses were all 
 around them, climbing over sweet arbors, fling 
 ing sprays of vivid color to the very top of the 
 garden wall, which had suddenly grown high, 
 shutting them into a secret place of glowing crim 
 son and rich fragrance, as tho they had paused 
 in the very heart of a rose. Red petals fluttered 
 about their feet. The girl blushed, for she knew 
 the meaning of the riot of roses. Still she did 
 not speak, for the spell of silence lay upon the 
 ruby close. 
 
Then came they into a sweeter place still, where 
 the flower beds were little and low and fringed 
 with the feathery plant known as "Baby s Breath," 
 and the girl spoke not for reverence of the place. 
 At last they stood by such a little bed covered with 
 white violets, and their breath was faint and sweet. 
 The girl spoke at last. "How could you bear 
 it?" And again, in a sort of passion: "How 
 can one ever bear it?" The woman said: "It 
 must be borne!" 
 
 But the girl s tears dropped fast upon the bed 
 of violets and rebellion filled her heart for a grief 
 she had not known. "How came the violets 
 here?" "They did not grow at first. The 
 ground was raw and red like a wound but they 
 came at last one by one dear little memories 
 and tender thoughts until the bed was covered as 
 you see." 
 
 Peace filled the troubled heart of the girl. She 
 lifted her head and both faced the western wall 
 of the garden. Against it flamed the rich colors 
 of autumn foliage, asters and golden-rod gleamed 
 among the purpling grass, their faces glowed in 
 the sunset light. The woman spoke softly: 
 
 "The garden is not quite finished. There are 
 new flowers to be planted at the end, rue and 
 rosemary and heart s ease. I have shown you 
 all that Innocence, Love and Grief have planted, 
 but there are more beds to be made by hands un 
 seen. But I do not fear them." 
 
 And the garden was very sweet as the twilight 
 fell. 
 
LITTLE BROTHER 
 
 Playing in the city street, 
 
 Little Brother ! 
 
 Running errands with swift feet; 
 Passing me with footsteps fleet; 
 Ought we not to know each other 
 
 Little Brother? 
 
 Care comes early at our call 
 
 Little Brother ! 
 Far too heavy burdens fall 
 On your shoulders, slight and small, 
 Would that I could lift them all, 
 
 Little Brother ! 
 
 In the world s relentless mart, 
 
 Little Brother ! 
 
 Each must bear his manly part, 
 Earn his bread with toil and smart 
 But your courage breaks my heart, 
 
 Little Brother ! 
 
 Surely there are, unconfessed, 
 
 Little Brother ! 
 
 Longings in your boyish breast? 
 Teach me how to help you best 
 How we each may help the other 
 
 Little Brother ! 
 
TROVE 
 
 We do not "make" our friends we find them 
 only, 
 
 Where they have waited for us weary years; 
 Some day we wander forth a little lonely 
 
 When lo ! a comrade at our side appears. 
 
 Tis not "discovery" tis recognition, 
 
 A glance, a greeting, and we grasp the hand. 
 
 No explanation needed no condition 
 That we are friends at once we understand. 
 
 And if our paths divide if we must sever 
 Eyes turn away, and clinging hands must part 
 
 It matters not, for we are friends forever. 
 Distance may darken, but not hush the heart. 
 
 We serve them out of eager love not duty. 
 
 And none so safe as he whom love defends! 
 The tender words of Christ assume new beauty: 
 
 "Henceforth not servants I have called you 
 friends!" 
 
THE LITTLE HAND 
 
 I know a little velvet palm 
 
 Pink as rose-petals, softly curled, 
 
 Or sea-shell tints of sunsets calm 
 Prettiest hand in all the world ! 
 
 And tiny fingers curl and cling 
 
 About my own with pressure dear, 
 
 As a wee bird, with downy wing 
 Flutters, till it forgets to fear. 
 
 Oh, mother ! mother ! gently hold 
 The little hand that rests in yours, 
 
 Care not o ermuch for place or gold 
 Love is the one thing that endures. 
 
 Resolve to make the young heart light 
 With pleasures pure and happy song 
 
 What joy to lead in ways of right 
 What anguish to have led in wrong! 
 
 The baby hand with perfect trust 
 Is placed in yours to be controlled; 
 
 Love must be brave, and wise, and just 
 These dimpled hands the future hold ! 
 
MY LITTLE BOY 
 
 The other children grow so tall ! 
 
 I would not wish it otherwise, 
 And yet we mothers lose them all, 
 
 They grow to Men before our eyes- 
 My little, little boys ! 
 
 But he, who slipped away in Spring, 
 Six summers on his shining head, 
 
 His baby eyes still wondering, 
 
 He only, tho long years have sped, 
 Is still my little boy. 
 
 SONG 
 
 A little bird sat on a snowy bough 
 
 And shook a song from his silver throat 
 
 So full of summer one would avow 
 June sunlight quivered in every note ! 
 
 And as singing he fluttered far away 
 
 Leaving melodious memories, 
 Brightness and beauty denied the day, 
 
 Blossomed instead on the barren trees. 
 
 Dwelling amid the snows too long 
 Earth s glad music we may forget, 
 
 Till some little bird sings : "A land of song, 
 And of sunshine, somewhere, lingers yet ! 
 
 10 
 
THE SUM OF HAPPINESS 
 
 I 
 
 A little room a lonely place 
 In cheerless order, dull and dun; 
 
 It lacks a single touch of grace 
 A table set for one ! 
 
 II 
 
 A tiny house a cheerful fire 
 
 And everything so bright and new; 
 
 All that a glad heart could desire : 
 A table set for two ! 
 
 Ill 
 
 A little house brimful of noise, 
 
 Disorderly as it can be 
 Chairs upside down and scattered toys; 
 
 A table set for three ! 
 
 WITHERED DREAMS 
 
 The lilies-of-the-valley in my vase 
 Have faded to a shadowy bouquet; 
 
 Each perfect, pallid petal keeps its grace 
 Ghost-flowers are they. 
 
 The fairy carillons of fragrant bells, 
 
 Love s bridal-bells that swing so merrily, 
 
 No longer ring; their silver music dwells 
 In muted memory. 
 
 II 
 
KANSAS 
 
 Wide the horizon and wide the skies, 
 
 Limitless leagues of prairie melt 
 Into haze, as azure as baby s eyes. 
 
 Afar in the distance a sapphire belt, 
 Call it cestus of Venus, or what you will, 
 Everywhere beauty that wakes a thrill ! 
 
 Draw a long breath of vivid air. 
 
 Drink your fill of the prairie s wine 
 Colored with sunlight, flavored rare 
 
 With the fragrance of flowers. See the shine 
 And glitter of dew-drops on every hand, 
 And own your love for our Western land ! 
 
 The meadow-lark sings his cheery song 
 Bold and clear as a trumpet s call; 
 
 Butterflies hover, a radiant throng, 
 
 Above blossoms as bright; and over all 
 
 The sky smiles ever, without a trace 
 
 Of a frowning cloud upon its face. 
 
 Let us try a race with the breeze ! 
 
 He has stopped to whisper to the grass 
 Some pretty secret told by the bees 
 
 In a hurried murmur as they pass 
 Hastening to orchards, pink and white, 
 Ablush with bloom in their young delight ! 
 
 12 
 
Let us be happy the world is so ! 
 
 Let the blood flow with jubilant rush 
 Thru our veins, and health and vigor glow 
 
 In the cheeks that for very gladness flush. 
 Let us not believe that the earth is old 
 She is young! And ours is the Age of Gold! 
 
 THE NATION S BURDEN 
 
 Against the background grim of sullen strife 
 Floats a pure pennon with its cross of peace; 
 
 It speaks of love not hate not death but life; 
 It promises the dreamed-of day when war shall 
 cease, 
 
 When none shall write of custom, race or creed, 
 Manhood itself shall hold mankind in awe, 
 
 Each nation s only burden others need 
 
 And sympathy shall hold the silken bonds of 
 law. 
 
 When man white, black or red, or what you will, 
 Will read upon that flag which floats above : 
 
 "Bear ye one another s burdens" thus fulfil 
 The law of Christ; the love of law the law of 
 love! 
 
 1917. 
 
BON VOYAGE 
 
 O stars, beam kindly on my lad 
 
 A-sailing on the sea, 
 Thru happy nights serene and glad 
 
 Guiding him back to me. 
 O sea winds, sweetly, softly blow 
 
 Across a quiet sea 
 To kiss his cheek and whisper low 
 
 A little word from me. 
 Impatient tides, that pace the strand, 
 
 O wide and sundering sea, 
 A pathway make from that far land, 
 
 Leading him home to me. 
 1918. 
 
 TWO CATHEDRALS 
 
 St. John the Divine and Notre Dame de Rheims 
 
 I watch the patient masons in the sun 
 Building a House to God upon the hill 
 
 That overhangs the city; just begun 
 
 The toil of years the care the loving skill. 
 
 Another minster lifted arch and spire 
 
 By patient builders wrought in futile trust. 
 
 The Iron Eagle dropt a plume of fire 
 And all its beauty is a heap of dust! 
 
 1914. 
 
 14 
 
MOTHER-EYES 
 
 About the busy city, to and fro, 
 
 On myriad errands many women go. 
 
 And I, who watch them, think I ve learned to know 
 
 The brooding look of love in mother-eyes. 
 
 (It may be memory has made me wise.) 
 
 Under a cloud of slowly silvering hair 
 They look from tired faces worn with care; 
 Or under youthful foreheads smooth and fair; 
 And everywhere the stranger child replies 
 With answering smile to love in mother-eyes. 
 
 Sometimes the tender mother-eyes are filled 
 With wistful memories, and sorrow stilled 
 By patient years; or, hope and longing build 
 A rainbow bridge across the clouded skies 
 Reflected in the depths of mother-eyes. 
 
 Sometimes, the happy mother-eyes confess 
 A waiting group at home, as they caress 
 All little children with their tenderness ; 
 And every hope of all the nations lies 
 In that unmeasured love in mother-eyes ! 
 
THE CHRIST CHILD 
 
 We mothers are so happy who have had 
 Sweet baby faces pressed against our own 
 And loving little arms around us thrown 
 While clinging, rosy fingers made us glad ! 
 
 We are so happy that a little while 
 The merry music of their dancing feet 
 Made life a song of praise for gift so sweet, 
 The tender sunlight of a baby s smile ! 
 
 We could not keep them ! Chary of caress, 
 To manhood s measure some of them have grown, 
 Children no longer. Some of them have flown 
 Into the land so still and answerless. 
 
 Yet we are happy to have held the gold 
 Of precious hours and days that could not last. 
 No loss can take from us the perfect Past ! 
 We have them yet in memory s firm hold. 
 
 And so we mothers do not need the fine, 
 Sweet lesson of the Babe of Bethlehem; 
 Our children taught us when we looked at them 
 That life and babyhood are both divine ! 
 
 16 
 
ACROSS THE WAY 
 
 Across the way there was sunshine ; whether 
 We walked thru clear or thru cloudy weather 
 The loveliest cherub cheered each day 
 Till we learned to look, when skies were gray, 
 For the baby-blossom across the way. 
 
 When disheartened over our daily labor, 
 What a comfort was our little neighbor ! 
 For the glimpse of beauty ours each day, 
 A debt that love alone could repay, 
 We owed the baby across the way. 
 
 But to-night our hearts are full of sorrow 
 As we sadly think that on the morrow 
 No beautiful face will brighten our day. 
 O vanished rosebud! No words can say 
 How we miss the baby across the way. 
 
 The light is darkened, and we are lonely, 
 And our guests are Grief and Longing only. 
 "O Father in Heaven, grant," we pray, 
 "In thy many mansions some future day 
 We may find our baby across the way!" 
 
"REFUSING TO BE COMFORTED" 
 
 "Time cureth grief?" Ah, mentor, what is time? 
 So many revolutions round the sun 
 So many circling seasons have mere years 
 Such power then? To make memory a crime? 
 Forbid the bitter-sweet relief of tears? 
 Unclasp the clinging fingers one by one 
 That press a dead joy to an empty heart? 
 "Time cureth grief?" Must we then part 
 
 Grief, old comrade? From my past 
 
 1 have lost all else must I lose thee at last? 
 
 STAR-LIGHT 
 
 Two clear gray eyes shine on me thru the mist 
 Of many months and years that roll between ; 
 Still lingers on my life their light serene 
 And sweet, by calm thoughts into quiet kissed. 
 Twin planets of my destiny 
 
 May I not fail or fall ! 
 Yet of those eyes that smile on me 
 
 A memory is all ! 
 
 Forever vanished is the fair young face 
 Wherein I used to look with longing love ; 
 But, as when stars are blotted out above 
 Their ling ring light long undulates thru space 
 And shines on sleeping worlds below 
 
 My star-light still doth fall 
 Upon my heart, a silver glow, 
 
 A memory yet all ! 
 Sept. 1897. 
 
 18 
 
TO THE FUTURE 
 
 O mystic eyes, we may not see, 
 
 Unknown veiled face ! 
 Our hopes, our dreams are all of thee 
 
 And give thee grace. 
 
 Dear thy dreamed image to our heart, 
 
 Is thoughtful brows, 
 Sweet mouth whose closed lips never part 
 
 For spoken vows. 
 
 Eloquent silence ! more than speech 
 
 It moves the soul : 
 No open books such lessons teach 
 
 As thy shut scroll. 
 
 O deep, sad eyes ! our sorrows are 
 
 Your unshed tears : 
 O strange, sweet smile ! auspicious star 
 
 Of happy years; 
 
 Only the ante-room of fate 
 
 The wide world seems 
 Where men thy royal message wait, 
 
 Dread Queen of Dreams ! 
 
LIFE LIES BEFORE US 
 
 Golden the glory of childhood s sweet vision 
 When the young heart, o errunning with gladness, 
 Knows nothing of sorrow, of gloom, or of sadness. 
 Existence is joy and life looks Elysian, 
 As bright as the blue bending tenderly o er us, 
 Filling our souls with a sense of pure pleasure 
 Our very hearts beat to a jubilant measure 
 For life lies before us ! 
 
 And then manhood s cares and questions come 
 
 thronging, 
 "Of what value these beautiful visions you re 
 
 weaving? 
 What have you accomplished, what are you achiev- 
 
 ing?" 
 
 Thus the voice of ambition fills us with longing. 
 We listen to labor s deep, answering chorus 
 Among the world s workers, its destinies sharing, 
 We find our enjoyment in doing and daring 
 Since life lies before us. 
 
 And when we shall reach the mystical river 
 That sweeps onward ever, resistless, unswerving, 
 Its purpose divine unceasingly serving, 
 On the dark verge evening shadows will shiver, 
 Red banners of sunset will undulate o er us. 
 But Faith will behold beyond the wave lying 
 The City Immortal and rapture undying, 
 Still, life lies before us! 
 
 2O 
 
ABOVE THE CLOUDS 
 
 O brothers ! toiling bravely to the height 
 
 Of aspiration for the good of man 
 
 How often since your weary march began 
 
 Have those far lustrous summits lost their light? 
 
 For veiling vapors float up from below; 
 Misapprehension wraps us like a cloud, 
 Its clammy, clinging folds our souls enshroud 
 Till hope grows faint; we almost fear to go 
 
 Along the upward path by chasms deep 
 Gashed in the mighty mountain s wounded side; 
 The wooing voices whisper in the wide 
 Mysterious silence, while our spirits sleep : 
 
 "Remain!" the voices of the valley sing. 
 "Thou canst not reach them, lonely, cold and far, 
 Unattainable by man those summits are; 
 Come down into the sunny warmth of Spring!" 
 
 And yet, my brothers, when the breath of God 
 Blows far away the cruel curtaining cloud, 
 What rapture to forget the captious crowd 
 Whose hands would drag us downward to the sod ! 
 
 Green looks the valley? It may well be so ! 
 Its rich, dark soil for many thousand years 
 Has been well watered with man s blood and tears. 
 From sorrow s soil our common comforts grow. 
 
 21 
 
Above the clouds, above the clouds, O friends ! 
 Courage, true hearts ! look upward to the height! 
 Who would forsake that pure and lovely light 
 That glows from Heaven where the long path 
 ends? 
 
 PEACE 
 
 I read it in the violets blue eyes 
 
 This strange, new lesson mine to learn, 
 And study it from silent, starry skies 
 
 Whose calm rebukes ambitious thoughts that 
 
 burn 
 
 The soul itself with their consuming fires. 
 All vain regrets and passionate desires 
 
 Are silenced by the influence serene 
 Of woods, and waves, and wandering winds that 
 
 bring 
 The first sweet fragrance, hostage of the Spring, 
 
 Sent from her islands green. 
 
 "Why blot out the bright earth with bitter tears? 
 Transform them into rainbows with a smile. 
 
 Or soon or late the dearest friends must part." 
 So comes a quiet voice across the years 
 
 And speaks its peace to my impatient heart. 
 
 22 
 
THE CITY OF SIN 
 
 Down the street of the plague-stricken city 
 In shuddering horror I fled 
 
 Too frightened to linger for pity 
 
 Of the dying who sobbed o er the dead 
 O er the festering piles of the dead! 
 
 Bloated faces turned upward to heaven 
 From a writhing and twisted heap 
 
 Of souls dying alone unforgiven 
 By the ghastly corpses asleep 
 Where none but the cruel could sleep. 
 
 On the hand of what once was a woman 
 Gleamed a jewel of rarest device. 
 
 At the hest of some fiend inhuman 
 I snatched it the finger was ice ! 
 Blue, clammy and horrible ice. 
 
 And then I rushed forth from the portal, 
 I drank the pure air of the plain. 
 
 In that instant an agony mortal 
 
 Wrung my heart till I raved in my pain. 
 I was tortured and maddened with pain. 
 
 Death had lurked in the heart of the jewel, 
 Its beauty had cost me too dear! 
 
 On my anguish it shone cold and cruel, 
 Its light withered all loveliness sear. 
 Made Gethsemane s olive-trees sear! 
 
Oh, flee in mad haste from the city! 
 
 Your feet spurn its pavement accursed I 
 Let no bauble, no beauty, no pity, 
 
 Stay your wild flight so frantic at first ! 
 
 Wear no jewel a corpse has worn first! 
 
 A NEW LIBATION 
 
 The soul that only cares to please 
 Itself, in sweet, indulgent ease, 
 
 At last must learn the lesson stern : 
 Our deeds become our Nemeses. 
 
 An act, once done, no power recalls ; 
 
 Our hearts the force of Fate appalls; 
 We may forget, may hope but yet 
 
 The tree must lie where er it falls. 
 
 All honor to the young soul, when 
 
 Its eager sympathy again 
 A gift divine the heart s rich wine 
 
 Is poured out to the needs of men, 
 
 A new libation! Love (release 
 
 For fettered lives) bids sorrow cease; 
 
 The famished feeds; and lo ! our deeds 
 Are white-winged messengers of Peace ! 
 
UNDER SEALED ORDERS 
 
 An American Red Cross nurse serving in 
 
 France told me thai her contract read: "From an 
 
 unknown port to an unknown port." 
 
 "From Port Unknown to Unknown Port" 
 
 Were her mysterious orders 
 As she crept from the shelter of the fort 
 
 That watches her country s borders. 
 
 She carried the Red Cross of love 
 
 To stricken brothers fallen for France, 
 
 That flag all other flags above 
 
 Knows no retreat ! It must advance ! 
 
 The woman s task, the human task, 
 To bind the wounds of ruthless strife; 
 
 What loftier mission could she ask 
 Than her old work of serving Life? 
 
 The Life, that, like the Red Cross ships, 
 Into uncharted seas has passed, 
 
 From an unknown port each spirit slips 
 And seeks an unknown port at last ! 
 
THE CUP 
 
 The Cup was beautiful, quaintly and curiously 
 wrought with figures of gleeful baby Loves, 
 moulded of rosy gold with half-extended wings, 
 as tho they had lighted on the brim a moment 
 before to sip of its nectar. An old, old Cup of 
 rare design and dearer because old and rich of 
 service to many generations of men and maidens 
 fair as she. 
 
 The untasted liquid seemed fathomless as she 
 gazed down into it, deep as all the longing that 
 had looked from the brooding eyes of those who 
 had passed it on from hand to hand, from lip to 
 lip, from one generation to another. There were 
 red gleams of fire and of roses, greens and blues 
 that shimmered into each other in the shifting 
 hues of a dove s soft breast; the purple of ripe 
 grapes; the yellow of sunlight in the heart of a 
 water-lily; the gray-blue bloom of a plum under a 
 passing shadow; the white flash of tears falling 
 upon marble; the joy-light of eyes that had wept 
 themselves bright again. 
 
 The maiden stood among the meadow drifts of 
 daisies; all about her the sound of wings; of low 
 soft notes; of the whisper of gossiping grasses. 
 
 A shaft of sunlight touched her shining hair, 
 slid down the rounded arm, trembled on the rose- 
 leaf palm curved about the handle of the Cup and 
 
 26 
 
quivered in the restless liquid, disclosing strange, 
 vivid colors unnamed as yet. Was the draught 
 cordial or poison? 
 
 She lifted the dread Cup and drank to the 
 Giver. 
 
 NOVA VITA 
 
 In a new and wonderful world I live 
 As dewy and fresh as Paradise 
 
 Where half open rosebuds shyly give 
 Modest blushes beneath my eyes. 
 
 From this happy home I shall ne er depart, 
 But dwell for aye neath the sunny skies, 
 
 My world is a little maid s loving heart, 
 And my heaven her azure eyes! 
 
 A FABLE 
 
 I know an enchanted garden, 
 
 Where a wondrous blossom grows, 
 
 A slender and silver lily 
 
 That can change itself to a rose ! 
 
 My heart is the magic garden 
 Dare I its secrets disclose? 
 
 For you, my love, are the lily 
 
 Till your blushes make you a rose ! 
 
 27 
 
HEART S EASE 
 
 They brought me roses, darling, 
 Roses with hearts aflame 
 
 And stealing thru fevered visions 
 A sense of sweetness came. 
 
 In the dim and curtained chamber 
 Roses glowed thru the gloom, 
 
 Radiant censers showering 
 Rich fragrance in the room. 
 
 But I did not care for their beauty, 
 Impatiently turned away 
 
 They only filled me with longing 
 To see the sweet June day. 
 
 Then you came, bright as the morning- 
 Did you divine my need? 
 
 With your perfect, purple pansies 
 You brought Heart s Ease indeed ! 
 
 28 
 
A THEFT 
 
 Once a sweet rose-bud 
 Smiled in the sun, 
 
 Roses around her 
 Ope d one by one; 
 
 Shyly she looked up 
 The green leaves thru 
 
 And held in her heart 
 A pearl of dew. 
 
 With flattering words 
 
 The sun began : 
 "Fair one, oh, hide not 
 
 Thy heart from man !" 
 
 But as bright petals 
 
 Slowly uncurl 
 See ! The sly rogue has 
 
 Stolen her pearl ! 
 
 29 
 
INLAND 
 
 All sights and sounds speak of thee, my Beloved; 
 
 And since I learned you are beside the sea 
 
 The mighty Mother ministers to me, 
 
 Leaving my foolish fancies unreproved 
 
 Like silent sentinels in duty grooved. 
 
 The stately columns of the cottonwood 
 
 All day in perfect quietude have stood, 
 
 But suddenly the shining leaves are moved 
 
 To murmuring music; the young winds awake 
 
 Over the bending fields of billowy grass 
 
 Dotted with daisies that a foam-crest make 
 
 For the green waves; the "prairie schooners" pass 
 
 Like sun-lit sails; and as I watch their motion 
 
 I dream with thee, Dear, by the distant ocean! 
 
 A BROWNIE 
 
 Oh, Humming-bird may flit in the sun, 
 A rose-hued life on a rainbow wing, 
 
 Blue-bird and Red-breast when winter s done 
 May give glad welcome to maiden-spring; 
 
 But a little brown bird s the bird I sing 
 
 Russet-robed darling! 
 
Oh, bonny blue eyes the poets praise; 
 
 And eyes that seem like a thought of night; 
 And deep gray eyes with their clear, calm gaze; 
 
 Where courage and gentleness unite, 
 But a pair of brown eyes are my delight, 
 My brown-eyed beauty ! 
 
 Oh, golden tresses are fair to see 
 
 Showering sunshine everywhere ; 
 And duskier ringlets falling free; 
 
 And amber locks that the Sirens wear; 
 But the best of all do I love brown hair, 
 My brown-haired beauty ! 
 
 Oh ! sweet little girl in dress of brown, 
 
 With face like a snow-drop, pure and pale, 
 
 Mong russet leaves that have fluttered down 
 From oak above it that braves the gale. 
 
 "My favorite color?" Till life shall fail 
 
 Is brown, dear Brownie! 
 
 "How doth the little busy bee !" 
 
 Sang Grace, sweet girl, as she crossed over 
 
 To where I whetted my shining scythe 
 
 In the fragrant fields of clover. 
 
 A kiss I stole from her smiling lips 
 
 What a frown was hers to see ! 
 
 "Haven t I right to sip honey?" I said, 
 
 "If I m a bee?" 
 
IN SOME FAR LAND 
 
 In some far land there groweth 
 
 Among the grasses lowly 
 
 A plant arising slowly 
 
 Whose flowers no mortal knoweth ! 
 
 It will go on, unfolding, 
 
 Its leaves and buds of beauty, 
 
 Some subtle sense of duty 
 
 Its blossoms still withholding. 
 
 But some sweet day, unknowing 
 That kindly fates are leading 
 My drowsy heart unheeding 
 To where the flower is growing. 
 
 I shall secure its sweetness 
 That for my footstep waited ! 
 And those bright buds belated 
 I ll kiss into completeness. 
 
 In all its opening glory 
 
 I ll claim the beauteous blossom 
 
 To wear upon my bosom 
 
 What! You re laughing at my story? 
 
But Blue Eyes smiling under 
 My gaze, its fire unknowing, 
 How do you know what s growing 
 "In some far land," I wonder? 
 
 RETRIBUTION 
 
 I found a fair flower 
 By the wayside smiling; 
 
 Its cheeks covered o er 
 By blushes beguiling. 
 
 I passed on, nor knew 
 The love I was losing; 
 
 For when I returned 
 
 Twas too late for choosing! 
 
 Finding none fairer, 
 My fate never fearing, 
 
 I came back to find 
 
 Another twas cheering! 
 
 33 
 
A PARABLE 
 
 Out of the darkness and the storm 
 A sudden plunge against the pane; 
 
 The room within looks safe and warm, 
 Sure shelter from the wind and rain, 
 The bird, bewildered, strives in vain. 
 
 And so, I muse, it fares with me. 
 I meet reserve so crystal clear 
 
 That, like the bird, I can not see 
 The barrier between us, dear, 
 And vainly strive to come more near! 
 
 WASTED 
 
 My heart was a rose, 
 
 Rose red and rose sweet, 
 
 And somebody knows 
 At whose dainty feet 
 
 I laid this fresh rose ! 
 
 My heart is a rose, 
 But faded, down flung, 
 
 No longer it grows 
 
 My life s thorns among, 
 
 Rejected, my rose! 
 
 34 
 
SIGNAL SERVICE 
 
 (Weather Report} 
 
 A chill of winter is in the air, 
 
 The leafless forest withered and bare 
 
 Bleak hilltops crowning; 
 The heavens above are gray and cold 
 And tarnished the sunshine s tender gold. 
 
 ( Somebody s frowning ! ) 
 
 Warm winds of summer softly blow 
 In velvet verdure the glad trees grow. 
 
 The sky s beguiling 
 The bright lake below, a mirror true, 
 Into azure answering its blue 
 
 (Somebody s smiling!) 
 
 (Indications} 
 
 You who would walk in the land of love, 
 No matter how blue the skies above, 
 Look for sudden changes of weather ! 
 
 And one very advisable plan 
 
 Is to take an overcoat and fan. 
 
 You may need them both together ! 
 
 35 
 
CONFESSION 
 
 There is a face whose moods I know 
 
 A faintly-tinted, flower-like thing, 
 
 Pale, till some sudden thought doth bring 
 
 A sunset light across the snow ! 
 
 Ah, modest maiden heart that speaks 
 
 Its sweet surprise, in crimson cheeks ! 
 
 And I think as I watch the fading flush 
 "What can be prettier than a blush?" 
 
 Yet bonnier still are deep blue eyes; 
 Or when, again, her eyes are hid 
 By lovely blue-veined, fallen lid 
 And her troubled bosom stirs with sighs 
 Its filmy lace; and one pure pearl 
 Jewels the check of my sweet girl 
 
 I am very sure (since it proves me dear) 
 There s nothing so beautiful as a tear! 
 
INTENTIONS 
 
 "I ve firmly, boys, made up my mind 
 
 That when I marry, 
 The girl I choose shall be a kind 
 
 Of kitchen-fairy. 
 
 "A saint, of course, in soul and looks, 
 
 (Tho men are sinners), 
 But she must be a saint who cooks 
 
 Delicious dinners ! 
 
 "Beauty and brains and I ll not mind 
 
 Sage conversations; 
 But one thing I ll expect to find 
 
 Regular rations!" 
 
 The maiden fair said thru her tears, 
 
 "With these perfections 
 Steak-cooking somewhat interferes; 
 
 It spoils complexions ! 
 
 "You want an angel, do you say, 
 
 For your housekeeping? 
 I fear wings would be in the way 
 
 When she was sweeping!" 
 
 37 
 
FAREWELL! 
 
 And so you leave me? Love, the world was 
 
 wide 
 
 I did not crave your coming made no sign 
 Why did you enter, then, this heart of mine 
 If, entering, you did not choose abide? 
 
 A humble home, I know, but all your own 
 Keeping you safe and warm. Ambition calls 
 You to be master of far loftier halls, 
 And so you go? and leave me, Love, alone? 
 
 Well leave me ! cross the threshold nor return. 
 I will not stay your going with regret, 
 But to my lonely life a lesson set 
 Endurance, not forgetfulness, to learn. 
 
 But as friend gives to friend some keepsake when 
 They re parting, so I pray you leave me this 
 Merely this hope that if you ever miss 
 A shelter elsewhere, you ll come home again. 
 
THE SKEPTIC 
 
 Unhappy he who doubts the love divine, 
 
 Since human love, its sweet interpreter, 
 
 He cannot comprehend but will aver 
 
 He tastes but bitterness in life s rich wine ! 
 
 Night s gloom alone he marks yet, the stars shine 
 
 Like sinless eyes of angels; and the stir 
 
 Of sleepy winds brings fragrance sweet as myrrh 
 
 From clover fields; he catches not the fine 
 
 Hushed sounds of night; the soft and drowsy notes 
 
 From wind-rocked cradles in the trembling trees; 
 
 Only the chill he feels, the shadow sees ! 
 
 "Be bold for right !" rings from the brazen throats 
 
 As trumpets blow to battle but no thrill 
 
 Breaks his soul s trance or nerves his palsied will. 
 
 THE DOUBTER 
 
 Did ever a murdered Faith 
 Stabbed to the heart by unbelief 
 In unavailing grief 
 
 Safely sepulchered come back like a ghostly 
 wraith? 
 
 Does it ever return to the heart, 
 
 Eagerly seek an entrance there 
 
 Where crouches black despair, 
 
 Hearing the sound outside with a guilty start? 
 
 39 
 
A fair dream that I can t forget 
 
 Was murdered long years ago 
 
 And buried beneath the snow, 
 
 But a pallid shade of joy haunts my sad heart yet ! 
 
 Wisdom you promised me 
 O Doubt! and is this the truth? 
 You whispered to ardent youth 
 "Come, O slave of creeds ! and the Truth shall &t 
 you free!" 
 
 Is this the end of the years 
 Full of passionate struggle and strife? 
 Nothing left longer in life 
 
 Worth the living save the dead dreams of youth 
 and these tears ! 
 
 In this empty house o my heart 
 
 The echoing rooms grow cold; 
 
 Wan ghost of my dream of old, 
 
 Enter and wander at will ! for we must not part ! 
 
 40 
 
SPOON RIVER REVIEWED 
 
 No. I don t like your Spoon River Anthology, 
 
 Lee Master s long line of too loquacious corpses 
 
 Lying their length in a quiet country churchyard 
 
 Who lift their hideous heads from their decaying 
 pillows 
 
 And address a few remarks to the world in gen 
 eral. 
 
 I tell you those people aren t dead to begin with ! 
 
 They haven t the pulseless calm of immortality. 
 
 Then, I don t like the way they talk to each other; 
 
 When they talk to me I bitterly resent it; 
 
 To be frank, I don t like their society, 
 
 Dead or alive they are equally detestable. 
 
 Where are the good people buried in that grave 
 yard? 
 
 There must have, a lot of them, lived in Spoon 
 River 
 
 Grey warriors of the Lord 
 
 Children like flowers 
 
 Boys and girls with their eyes full of visions 
 
 Mothers who were sweet and calm and sensible. 
 
 Perhaps they are in Heaven, and these earth- 
 bound spirits 
 
 Lingering around and watching their own corrup 
 tion, 
 
Coiling like rattlesnakes around their own head 
 stones, 
 
 Are all that are left in Spoon River graveyard. 
 Then I don t like it because it isn t poetry, 
 Nor metrical prose, nor anything musical, 
 All of its cadences are humpy like the graveyard ! 
 He tried to be a Whitman with a touch of Rabe 
 lais; 
 
 But Whitman sometimes has a mighty music 
 Like the roar of the sea (or the thunder of the 
 
 Elevated). 
 
 Reminding us at times of his own Wild Trump 
 eter. 
 
 Oh, how I dread a set of Spoon Rivers ! 
 A lot of little Whitmans without any music, 
 A herd of Rabelaises without any genius 
 Spoiling white paper and mussing up the uni 
 verse . . . 
 It gives one a taste for annihilation ! 
 
"VERWEILE DOCH, DU BIST SO SCHON" 
 
 Gaily we wander Life and I 
 
 Over green fields in sweet spring weather. 
 
 Each hour like a bright-winged butterfly 
 Flits away while we walk together 
 
 Yet we wish them briefer, Life and I. 
 
 Slowly we saunter Life and I 
 Among the roses, summer s treasure. 
 
 The golden moments are gliding by 
 
 So sweetly laden with love and pleasure 
 
 We linger a little, Life and I. 
 
 > 
 
 Swiftly we hasten Life and I 
 
 Mid scarlet and gold of autumn s strewing 
 
 From our eager grasp the seconds fly 
 
 Like trembling leaves when the wind is blow 
 ing 
 
 We must leave our labor, Life and I. 
 
 Weary we wander, Life and I, 
 
 Thru a cold, white world in winter weather. 
 Slowly and sadly the days creep by. 
 
 Too tired, at last, to walk together 
 We wish the road shorter, Life and I. 
 
 43 
 
Oh, when did either Life or I 
 
 Long for an instant to last forever? 
 
 Not here ! But in Heaven hearts will sigh 
 From each sweet moment loth to sever : 
 
 "Stay! We find thee fairest, Life and I ! 
 
 AVENGED 
 
 Love lit my door one day; 
 
 My heart, filled full of cares, 
 Heedlessly turned away 
 
 "An angel unawares." 
 
 Soon came regret, and then 
 Too late, "Return" I wept, 
 
 But when love came again 
 Weary with waiting slept. 
 
 I woke with beating heart 
 
 To find the dear guest flown 
 
 And now I dwell apart 
 In a still house alone ! 
 
 44 
 
THE NIGHT COURT FOR WOMEN 
 
 O Court of Justice, justly named the Night! 
 
 Where shuddering shapes of want and sin 
 With pallid faces hands too white 
 
 Like evil dreams flit out and in. 
 
 Yet these, these also, He the Sinless swept 
 Into His inmost sphere of living light; 
 
 Forgiving much to her who knelt and wept : 
 "Go, sin no more," sad Daughters of the Night 
 
 THE SEARCH 
 
 I walk thru city streets but nowhere see 
 The face beloved I ne er may see again. 
 These human hives, the haunts of many men, 
 Are full of faces Love, I look for thee. 
 
 Sometimes I catch a glimpse of golden hair, 
 Of deep-blue eyes and sea-shell tinted cheek 
 And for a moment think the face I seek 
 Is found; but soon I sigh : " Tis very fair 
 But, ah, the noble spirit shines not there !" 
 
 Thru life I wander on alone, my Love ; 
 And shall I never, never, see thee more? 
 The tireless wave breaks ever on the shore, 
 The ceaseless planets circle on above, 
 And so my thoughts forever round thee move ! 
 
 45 
 
ENDYMION TO DIANA 
 
 How strange to find myself no more my own. 
 My very thoughts which I deemed mine indeed 
 Are thine, and my commands no longer heed; 
 So swiftly to such height my love has grown 
 That never for a moment s space alone 
 My onward steps a shadowy shape attends 
 A vision yet more real to me than friends 
 Who press my hand and look into my face 
 And, seeing change, wistfully seek to trace 
 Its unknown cause; but stranger yet to know 
 Tho should I never see thee more, most dear, 
 One hour thou didst not leave me ! Linger near, 
 O loveliest of dreams ! If thou must go 
 Wait till I wake to find Hope s fair fruition here ! 
 
 SONG 
 
 Love, let us linger in this garden of roses, 
 While the young sunbeams awake them to blushes, 
 Listening long to the sweet notes of thrushes, 
 While the buds open, the heart too uncloses. 
 Love, let us linger ! 
 
 Love, let us hasten ! Down the pink petals flutter, 
 Hear the low rustle of dead leaves ! The dying, 
 Faint, far-away songs of birds Southward flying! 
 Drear to the heart is the message they utter. 
 Love, let us hasten ! 
 
 46 
 
THE MEASURE OF MEDIOCRITY 
 
 Oh, the tragedy that lies 
 Right before unthinking eyes 
 
 In some dull, plebeian face! 
 Oh, the sorrow and the longing 
 Of sad souls that we are wronging 
 
 With the charge of: "Commonplace!" 
 
 Oh, the victories unknown, 
 In some soul that fights alone, 
 
 Fearing its endeavor vain ! 
 Ah, repenting, let us render 
 Homage to the true and tender 
 
 Hearts that beat beneath the "jean" ! 
 
 If thy blind eyes will not see 
 Hear the voice that speaks to thee : 
 
 "Let him serve who would be wise !" 
 Lest, before us humbly kneeling, 
 Servant s eyes should lift, revealing, 
 
 Christ our King in lowly guise! 
 
 47 
 
THE SEARCH 
 
 Like a child longing for the Father s face 
 I sought my Maker s will in Nature s laws, 
 
 But Nature chilled my heart with cheerless grace 
 And Science saddened with a cold First Cause. 
 
 The history of our hope I read again 
 The record of the well-beloved Son : 
 
 What answer to our longing made He, when 
 He walked in Palestine, the Perfect One? 
 
 "Blessed the pure in heart," I read, 
 
 "For they shall see God." Sweet rebuke and 
 
 wise! 
 No wonder that we find Him not, I said, 
 
 Light s self is darkness to sin-blinded eyes. 
 
 Our Father ! number us with those 
 
 Redeemed by Christ whose spirits shall unfold 
 Pure petals of the radiant white rose 
 
 That Dante dreamed of God its heart of 
 gold! 
 
 48 
 
PLATTE CANON 
 
 What atoms we are in these vast calm places 
 In such splendid spaciousness of sky 
 
 Thru cloven canons the river races 
 
 Restless with rocks that its temper try. 
 
 What atoms we are with our puny passion 
 Our little lives lost in futile fear 
 
 Bacterian struggles for wealth and fashion, 
 Unworthy the tribute of a tear ! 
 
 The grand rebuke of the forest stills us, 
 The river laughs at our sordid care, 
 
 The rosy calm of the sunset fills us 
 
 With bliss of beauty and pain of prayer. 
 
 Secure is the heart that can hold this splendor, 
 Reaching yearning arms as wide as Heaven, 
 
 Folding the whole race in love as tender 
 As pure and deep as a soul forgiven. 
 
 Grand are the giant mountain faces; 
 
 Bright the flash of the sunlit spray; 
 The forest is full of myriad graces; 
 
 But one human soul is more than they! 
 
 49 
 
And so we return to nobler living, 
 
 Gentler judgment of our brother Man, 
 
 Generous sympathy, golden giving; 
 
 We are part, at least, of a perfect plan. 
 
 "Atoms" are we? Not so, save in choosing 
 The less, and passing the greater by, 
 
 Reckless of worlds we may be losing! 
 A drop may mirror the infinite sky! 
 
 A WINTER WALK 
 
 "See Winter s flag of truce unfurl ! 
 
 He wears his jewels like a king 
 The sky a sapphire, earth a pearl 
 
 In sunshine set!" that sort of thing. 
 "You ll take my arm? It s icy here." 
 
 "Thanks, no; Inever slip," she said, 
 Just then she felt sensation queer 
 
 The glassy sidewalk hit her head. 
 
 The horizontal she d assumed; 
 
 And as he helped her to her feet 
 Upon whose steadiness she d plumed 
 
 Herself, he said: "Revenge is sweet!" 
 Upon the proffered ulster sleeve 
 
 She meekly laid her snowy hand : 
 " In slippery places, I believe, 
 
 The Bible says, The wicked stand! 
 
LOVE S MEMORY 
 
 Surely, Love, you can t forget 
 Your first gift? A violet 
 Dewy, purple petals wet 
 With your tears? I have it yet. 
 
 Ah, those sweet repentant tears ! 
 How they sparkle thru the years ! 
 And each passing day endears 
 The memory which chides my fears. 
 
 Long my suit you had denied 
 Still I lingered at your side; 
 In my pain, Love, did I chide? 
 Forgive me that your tears replied 
 
 Ah, remember! Do not let 
 Our fair star of friendship set; 
 A stern rebuke my anger met 
 In a blue-eyed violet! 
 
 Filled with tears it seemed to be 
 Like the one you gave to me 
 Only that s o erarched, you see, 
 By a rainbow memory ! 
 
 In life s anxious care and fret 
 Tis but human to forget 
 Ah, forgive and love me yet ! 
 I m vanquished by a violet! 
 
THE CUP OF LOVE 
 
 What is the draught thou bringest me 
 
 Love, with beseeching radiant eyes? 
 If I drink at thy wish shall I be wise? 
 
 1 look at the cup s carved tracery, 
 
 Its graceful shape and its rich, red hues 
 From thy hand it were not hard to choose. 
 
 And yet, I know not why, I fear 
 
 To lift to my quivering lips the brim 
 
 Lest its iridescent lights grow dim. 
 
 Will it be as lovely seen too near? 
 
 Will the draught be bitter or sweet when spent? 
 
 Bring me bliss or poison my calm content? 
 
 Old is the cup, and of rare design 
 Quaintly and curiously wrought, 
 Product of many a poet s thought 
 Holds it heart s-blood or fragrant wine? 
 Cordial or poison, Love? Eagerly 
 I lift the dread cup and drink to thee! 
 
IN SILENTIO 
 
 "A rose is the emblem of silence" 
 
 Close the book the leaves of love 
 We so gladly turned together 
 Mid the golden, glowing heather 
 Tinged by sunset hues above. 
 
 Softly as a petal s fall 
 Place a rose between the pages; 
 No gay reader ever gauges 
 The deep anguish under all. 
 
 Let no moan escape our lips 
 Sternly closed. This is no illness, 
 Love is dead ! Hark ! thru the stillness 
 Drop by drop the life-blood drips. 
 
 Without speech, then, let us part. 
 Not a word to friend or lover. 
 Leave the dead the chill face cover, 
 Lay a rose upon her heart! 
 
 53 
 
AFTER MANY DAYS 
 
 O watcher by the riverside ! 
 
 The waves have borne away their precious 
 
 freight. 
 
 Why scan so anxiously the coming tide? 
 His promises forever must abide 
 
 In patience wait ! 
 
 Alas ! we cannot comprehend His ways, 
 His purposes no mortal may discern; 
 O faithful heart that fears but yet obeys, 
 No longer doubt! For "after many days" 
 It shall return! 
 
 HARD TO SUIT 
 
 "If he d only knelt at my feet, 
 And felt what he tried to say, 
 
 Instead of keeping his seat 
 In such a commonplace way, 
 
 Had his words been warm as sweet, 
 I might not have said him nay ! 
 
 54 
 
"If he had simply said: Please, 
 Will you marry me? to-day 
 
 And not gone down on his knees 
 In that ridiculous way, 
 
 I d have felt much more at ease 
 
 And I might have answered: yea !" 
 
 WIRELESS 
 
 A fair thought came floating into my brain 
 
 On some ethereal current drifting. 
 For days I had searched for her, in vain, 
 
 But now the veil of consciousness lifting, 
 The thought said, smiling: "You ve sought me 
 
 long, 
 
 Now paint me quickly in colors of song 
 Iris-hued, shifting, 
 Your phrases sifting." 
 
 Idly I answered, "Some fortunate day 
 
 When the light and my mood are better !" 
 
 But, at last, to a magazine far away 
 I sent my new thought, in a letter, 
 
 Painted as carefully as I could; 
 
 E en my enemy critic said it was good. 
 
 The daily I bought 
 
 And there was my thought ! 
 
 55 
 
AFTER THE SEASON 
 
 Close the book we ve read together 
 In the golden, summer weather ! 
 Birds have sought another nest 
 
 In some sunny, southern nook. 
 You will leave me like the rest, 
 
 Close the book! 
 
 Sing no more the ballads tender, 
 All their love and longing render 
 My deep pain more bitter yet; 
 
 Since my daring dream is o er 
 Help me, dearest, to forget ! 
 
 Sing no more ! 
 
 Say good-bye while I am ready. 
 See ! my hand is not unsteady. 
 Would you dream that as I stand 
 
 I had watched my future die? 
 While my voice I still command 
 
 Say: "Good-bye!" 
 
 You will stay no more to listen 
 While above the white stars glisten 
 Like the bliss I could not capture. 
 
 Tears, love ? What is it you say ? 
 After agony comes rapture ! 
 
 "You will stay?" 
 
SONG 
 
 I d weave thee a crown! 
 
 O Love ! Who crownest my days ; 
 
 Not the victor s laurel, the poet s bays ; 
 
 They are not for thee. 
 
 Thy crown shall be 
 
 Something fairer and finer far, 
 
 Like the magical light that crowns a star. 
 
 I d weave thee a crown ! 
 
 Not a fading wreath of flowers; 
 
 Such a garland s only for summer hours; 
 
 And thy diadem 
 
 Shall not, like them, 
 
 Perish as brightest blossoms must; 
 
 An immortal crown I d weave not dust! 
 
 I d weave thee a crown 
 
 Out of ev ry loving thought 
 
 For others, that thy love for me has taught, 
 
 Out of happiness 
 
 That longs to bless 
 
 Earth s weary ones less glad than we 
 
 Such is the crown, dear Love, I d weave for thee! 
 
 57 
 
A FACE 
 
 I know a face, serene and fair, 
 Crowned by its burnished braids of hair, 
 Lighted with eyes deep, lustrous, rare. 
 
 A face where every gazer must 
 
 Discern a soul, true, gentle, just, 
 
 A smile that Doubt himself might trust. 
 
 But a lovelier look I see 
 Than all its sweet serenity 
 A look that s only known to me. 
 
 Like one who travels thru the night, 
 Ascends some eastward-looking height 
 And sees beyond the breaking light, 
 
 The slumbering world below him lies ; 
 For him alone flush morn s fair skies; 
 So, when I gaze in those clear eyes 
 
 I see there what no other may, 
 Young Love s first faintly-dawning ray, 
 And well content I wait the dav! 
 
LOVE S LOGIC 
 
 Love has its own sweet will and own sweet way 
 Of settling questions in an ex cathedra fashion. 
 
 And so, my dove-eyed darling, you may say 
 
 Just what you please, you cannot shake my pas 
 sion. 
 
 Hush, cynic ! my devotion s far above 
 All "admiration only for a season," 
 
 And if you "see no reason for my love" 
 
 Why, then I ll love you still without a reason ! 
 
 IN PRAISE OF PAIN 
 
 A sombre figure, darkly veiled, and dread 
 
 Walked ever at my side thru weary years 
 
 Her food my very heart ! Her drink my 
 
 tears ! 
 
 At last, the veil was lifted from her head 
 I dared not look ! But vanquishing my fears 
 After a little, raised my timid gaze: 
 
 "And so thou art an Angel?" low I said 
 
 While two clear, tender eyes were fixed on mine, 
 
 And in their radiant depths I, wondering, read 
 
 A dear reflection of the Love Divine, 
 
 And since that day God s angel, Pain, I praise! 
 
 59 
 
TRAUMEREI 
 
 Over the listening audience 
 
 The soft, low notes of Traumerei swept, 
 
 I closed my eyes; to a single sense 
 
 I gave my soul; to the strains that crept 
 
 Into my heart, where memory waked and wept 
 
 No longer I saw the white round arm 
 Of the fair girl clasp her violin; 
 
 I yielded to dreamy music s charm 
 
 And living again the days that had been 
 I pictured a face that had power to win 
 
 My thoughts to the unforgotten past ! 
 Just once to touch the tempting red 
 
 Of the smiling mouth, to feel at last 
 
 Its sweet surrender "Ah, me!" I said, 
 "To press to my heart that golden head 
 
 "I would give the life that remains to me!" 
 For a moment the sweet sounds softer fell 
 
 For a moment my weary soul was free, 
 The beautiful eyes I had known so well 
 Once again wrought woe with their fatal spell. 
 
 60 
 
A warm sea of melody round us stole 
 The full, rosy lips were pressed to mine; 
 
 Into dangerous slumber my drowning soul 
 Wooed by kisses and music s wine 
 Wavering fell and then, so faint and fine 
 
 The music climbed by a silver stair 
 
 From the marshes low to a mountain height 
 
 I felt a swift rush of diviner air, 
 
 The breath of pine forests; I saw the white 
 Snows of the summits and the path of Right ! 
 
 SONGS FROM HEINE 
 THE PALM AND THE PINE 
 
 A Pine-tree is standing lonely 
 
 On heights where the North-winds blow, 
 His slumber is covered only 
 
 With a cold, white robe of snow. 
 
 Of a Palm-tree he is dreaming 
 That, far in the Morning-land, 
 
 Grieves alone amid the gleaming 
 Desert of burning sand. 
 
 61 
 
"Du BIST WIE EINE BLUME" 
 
 Thou art so like a flower 
 
 So sweet, and pure, and fair! 
 
 My heart perceives thy power, 
 Grief glides in unaware. 
 
 Oh, let my hands, caressing, 
 Fall on thy clustering hair! 
 
 God keep thee by His blessing 
 So pure and sweet and fair. 
 
 * 
 
 Softly now the sweet bells ring, 
 
 Set my pulses bounding! 
 Fly forth, little song of Spring, 
 
 Thru the wide world sounding. 
 
 Fly forth, little song, with speed 
 Where the flowers are meeting; 
 
 When you find a Rose indeed 
 Say I send her greeting! 
 
 "IM WUNDERSCHONEN MONAT MAl" 
 
 In the marvelous month of May 
 With all the buds unfolding, 
 
 Shall I take the miser s way 
 
 My heart s one rose withholding? 
 
 62 
 
In the marvelous month of May, 
 Song-birds the branches thronging, 
 
 And I dare confess to-day 
 My hidden love and longing. 
 
 MISCONCEPTION 
 
 Around us rolls the sea 
 And islands we ! 
 Each soul, alone, alone, 
 Hears the strange monotone 
 Terrible, tortured moan 
 From the mysterious sea. 
 
 Sometimes, an island near 
 Grows strangely dear; 
 Yet, between sundered souls 
 The stern wave forever rolls; 
 Call across reefs and shoals 
 Will any the faint cry hear? 
 
 Ah, friend ! the sea is wide 
 We live beside ! 
 Winds bear our words away, 
 Drown them in bitter spray; 
 Oh, waste of waters gray! 
 Oh, treacherous tide ! 
 
SONG 
 
 "Lily-bud, lily-bud, open be. 
 Let me your golden treasure see. 
 Open your glowing heart to me ! 
 
 "Lily-bud, lily-bud, all afloat 
 
 On silver sea a silver boat 
 
 So you will sail this moonlit moat." 
 
 But the sweet lily-bud better knows 
 Than her gold treasure to disclose. 
 When hearts doors open enter woes 
 
 LOST 
 
 Pray can you tell me, little maid, 
 Of dimpled chin and cheek, 
 
 Where is my heart? lost or mislaid 
 For it in vain I seek. 
 
 I m in a very heartless state 
 Inclined to think, my dear, 
 
 You stole the article too late 
 The case is crystal clear ! 
 
 But since the dreadful deed is done 
 I ll yield my claim to you. 
 
 If twas worth stealing, little one, 
 Is t not worth keeping, too? 
 
 64 
 
LOVE HAS WINGS 
 
 "Love has wings!" 
 
 The cynic sings, 
 
 Deeming it a truth that stings ! 
 
 Prophet grim 
 
 With vision dim, 
 
 All true lovers pity him! 
 
 Let him sing, 
 
 Poor jealous thing, 
 
 Whom love flits by on rosy wing. 
 
 Love can fly, 
 
 And that s just why 
 
 He lifts us upward to the sky. 
 
 He has power 
 
 To make each hour 
 
 Blossom like a tropic flower. 
 
 What matters, then, 
 That swift years ten 
 Have vanished somewhere beyond ken? 
 
 What care we 
 
 Tho brief they be? 
 
 Love pledges us : "Eternity." 
 
 65 
 
Bliss he brings 
 
 And softly sings : 
 
 "Rejoice that Time and Love have wings!" 
 
 MY PRETTY GIRL 
 
 All sweet unconsciousness 
 
 This pretty girl o mine ! 
 
 Yet would one wish that less 
 
 Which makes her half divine? 
 
 For like some silent star 
 
 Shining from skies afar, 
 
 Not dreaming that its light 
 
 Subdues the sombre night, 
 
 My love knows not how fair she is 
 
 But dare I tell her this? 
 
 Dare I whisper in her ear: 
 
 "How pretty you are, my dear ! 
 
 My star ! 
 
 My dear, how pretty you are!" 
 
 66 
 
GOOD-NIGHT 
 
 Good-night ! those simple words that fall 
 So often from our careless lips 
 
 And yet they hold a charm for all; 
 Our dream into the future dips 
 
 Finding a fair land of delight 
 Good-night! 
 
 How softly is the "good-night" said 
 Some summer eve of joyous June ! 
 
 Low droops the maiden s rose-crowned head; 
 "Good-night but must you go so soon?" 
 
 Oh, golden hour ! Oh, love s delight ! 
 Good-night ! 
 
 We say good-night to little ones 
 
 Whose trustful eyes have tired grown ; 
 
 Ah, dimpled daughters ! darling sons ! 
 How tender is the wistful tone 
 
 That wishes all your future bright ! 
 Good-night ! 
 
 Then, faintly breathed, the last "Good-night" 
 That comes before the dreamless sleep ; 
 
 It falls upon us like the blight 
 Of cruel frost. Alone we weep 
 
 For vanished loves and lost delight. 
 Good-night! 
 
 67 
 
Courage ! dear heart, the day is brief 
 Soon to us comes an evening hour 
 
 In which we say "Good-night" to grief, 
 And threatening clouds no longer lower. 
 
 All glorious is the sunset s light ! 
 Good-night ! 
 
 "YET A LITTLE WHILE" 
 
 A little way they wander, O my friend, 
 
 The loved who leave us lonely sad at heart. 
 Tears blind our eyes; we cannot comprehend. 
 
 The gates are closed and it is hard to part; 
 We learn life s lessons slowly but one day 
 
 We come at last to understand 
 The Heavenly Father s House is near at hand 
 
 And our beloved are not so far away ! 
 
 Dear friend, be comforted a little while 
 
 "Slow is the step of sorrow-laden years?" 
 I know, I know. But still the loving smile, 
 
 The tender words of Christ rebuke our tears. 
 "A little while," and tired feet shall cross 
 
 The welcome threshold of that mansion blest 
 Where never enter sorrow labor loss, 
 
 But wait reunion peace and home and rest ! 
 Easter, April 4, 1885. 
 
 68 
 
HIS CHOICE 
 
 Blue eyes ! dewy eyes ! 
 
 Dreamy and deep; 
 Waking a lover s sighs, 
 
 Oh, never may you weep ! 
 
 Brown eyes ! trustful eyes ! 
 
 Tender and true; 
 May fairest visions rise 
 
 Dear brown eyes for you ! 
 
 Hazel eyes! clear eyes! 
 
 Changeful and bright. 
 Oh, may thy shifting dyes 
 
 Ne er lose their light! 
 
 Black eyes ! brilliant eyes ! 
 
 Filled full of fire; 
 Soon may you gain the prize 
 
 To which you aspire ! 
 
 "Which do I love the best?" 
 Well let me see 
 
 Just set your mind at rest 
 Those that smile on me ! 
 
AN OLD-FASHIONED SONG 
 
 Sweetheart, sweetheart! the Spring is coming! 
 
 Hear the swift rush of swollen streams. 
 Lax lies Winter s hand, long benumbing 
 
 The frightened Earth into frozen dreams. 
 
 Sweetheart, sweetheart! the world s awaking, 
 E en when asleep, it dreamed of May, 
 
 Ferns and flowers out of silver making 
 Daisies of snow on the crystal spray. 
 
 The faithful Earth, the frost defying, 
 
 Ne er forgets its favorites fled; 
 Its dainty darlings low are lying. 
 
 From the forest s cheek has flown the red 
 
 Still, the bare brown boughs adorning 
 
 A mimic foliage of frost 
 Sparkles proof on a sunny morning 
 
 That the soul of Beauty s never lost. 
 
 Sweetheart, sweetheart! the earth s reviving 
 For Hope and Memory, hand in hand, 
 
 Face the future with smiles surviving 
 
 The somber storms that have swept the land. 
 
 70 
 
A soft South breeze my cheek s caressing; 
 
 A pioneer blue-bird bravely sings; 
 The lavish sun a golden blessing 
 
 Down to the suppliant meadows flings. 
 
 Sweetheart, sweetheart! the brimming river 
 
 Is a symbol of my heart to me, 
 Full of gratitude to the Giver 
 
 Of Spring, songs and sunshine, Love and- 
 thee! 
 
 THE FISH-WIFE S SONG 
 
 My fisher lad ! My fisher lad ! 
 
 Now sailing on the sea, 
 My heart is sad, my heart is sad, 
 
 When thou art far from me. 
 
 The wild waves moan, the wild waves moan 
 
 Upon the sullen sea. 
 I sit alone, I sit alone, 
 
 And wait for night and thee. 
 
 Tis hard to part, tis hard to part, 
 
 When one sails out to sea ! 
 Come home, sweetheart, come home, sweet 
 heart, 
 
 Come back to love and me ! 
 
THE LETTERS OF HEINE 
 
 The paper quivers with a painful life 
 
 Pulsating agony in every line ! 
 
 And is this all, O Heine? We divine 
 
 A deeper purpose than a blind, sad strife 
 
 With fate and God. We find these letters rife 
 
 With passionate derision yet they shine 
 
 With love of liberty, and clear and fine 
 
 Ever a noble scorn, like a keen knife 
 
 Cuts thru pretense and pompous ignorance. 
 
 And tho a casual and careless glance 
 
 Marks but the scoffer s cynic mask and sighs 
 
 Over a wasted mind and blighted heart; 
 
 To more discerning, sympathetic eyes 
 
 One of Truth s sharpest scimitars thou art! 
 
 "The light that never was on land or sea" 
 Once said my darling thoughtfully, 
 "I wonder, love, what that light may be?" 
 I mused with my head upon my hand : 
 "The light that was never on sea or land? 
 Is it light that dwells in dawn s clear skies? 
 Or the solemn light when the stars arise? 
 Just then my darling looked up at me, 
 And I vowed to her as I bent the knee, 
 " Tis the light of my darling s eyes !" 
 
 72 
 
PATIENCE 
 
 God s angel Patience walks with folded wings 
 And tender eyes whose tears are never shed; 
 
 Her hands too busy doing little things 
 
 To leave their labor even to lift in prayer. 
 
 Fulfilling quietly each common care 
 
 O er suffering sin she bends her haloed head. 
 
 Rarely she rests over her task undone, 
 
 Night s prison doors her trustful touch unbars; 
 No weary watch for the unrisen sun 
 Is hers; she does not lift her longing eyes 
 Toward tardy glories of the Eastern skies, 
 
 But dreams of dawn and works on neath the 
 stars. 
 
 Let us light our lips with music and mirth 
 
 And say farewell to sorrow! 
 
 For the night of grief, like the eve of earth, 
 
 Hath ever its fair to-morrow! 
 
 "Night, child, is dark, and winter is chill!" 
 
 All this, oh, life, I know, 
 
 But dark its diamond stars hath still, 
 
 Winter its pearls of snow ! 
 
 73 
 
CARPE DIEM 
 
 Hours that flit so fast away, 
 
 Stay, oh, stay! 
 
 Heed my cry ! My arms, extending, 
 
 Would fix here your journey s ending. 
 
 Feet, forever forward wending, 
 
 Why must hurried steps obey 
 
 Voices of on-rushing years? 
 
 While my tears 
 
 Mark my grief, repentance, longing, 
 
 To live o er the life I m wronging? 
 
 From swift hours, the threshold thronging 
 
 Stern response my spirit hears : 
 
 "Heedless heart! Hadst thou thy will 
 Wouldst thou fill 
 
 With unselfish deeds, pure pleasure, 
 Earnest work, each moment s measure? 
 He who has not used time s treasure 
 Added wealth would squander still." 
 
 74 
 
A PRAYER 
 
 Hovering over a city asleep 
 Forgetting its toil and care, 
 Soothing to slumber eyes that weep 
 An angel heard this prayer: 
 
 "O Father, I have sinned; how dare I say 
 Only in thought to Thee, Most Holy One ? 
 What matters it whether the deed was done 
 Or only dreamed in a half-hearted way? 
 Sin is still sin, and I have fallen so low 
 I hardly dare lift tear-filled eyes to Thee, 
 Petitioning for pardon, for I know 
 All that I might have been and hope to be. 
 Great as the sin I find my punishment, 
 Forevermore my fair ideal stands 
 Among the dews and dawns of loftier lands 
 Than this, wherein I ve dared to be content. 
 Bitter it is, O Father, to recall 
 Days when I even dreamed I might 
 Serve Thee, and send a little gleam of light 
 Across the dark world darker by my fall. 
 A fall or failure either one is crime 
 To the angel Opportunity s clear eyes; 
 Not to have done the best that in me lies 
 Oh, self-indulgent soul, besmeared with slime, 
 Oh, instrument unfit for Thy great hand, 
 Am I and shall I ask Thee to retain 
 
 75 
 
The tool that failed Thee? To have lived in vain 
 
 Is sin; for none but cowards ever stand 
 
 And at life s golden thresholds hesitate; 
 
 Each great door on its mighty hinges stirs, 
 
 We turn aside among the revelers 
 
 And find it closed when we return too late !" 
 
 The voice was lost in sobs; the prayer was done. 
 The pitying Angel wondered as he went : 
 "And yet, this broken-hearted penitent 
 The City honors as her noblest sonl" 
 
 DECEMBER DAYS 
 
 "Stay with us for a little longer ! Stay, 
 O brief, bright day! 
 Delay thy going, O December sun, 
 Until our task is done." 
 
 But swiftly from the darkening skies 
 The last light dies, 
 
 And somber twilight, with relentless look, 
 Closes the unread book. 
 
 A lesson for our life s December days 
 No moment stays ! 
 
 May we not vainly mourn the setting sun 
 Because of work undone. 
 
 76 
 
NIGHT IN WINTER 
 
 Desolate is the day. 
 
 I can hear the horses feet 
 
 Slipping on the icy street 
 As they cower along their way 
 
 Stung by the cruel sleet. 
 
 Oh, cold and gray the sky ! 
 
 The clouds are sullen and drear 
 And hasten as if with fear; 
 
 Along the wet hills they fly 
 And follow the flying year. 
 
 Just a moment the sun 
 
 Looks forth, but his face is chill 
 And he drops behind the hill 
 
 As if with the day that is done 
 He, too, were forever still. 
 
 I cannot bear the night ! 
 
 So silent save for the beat 
 Of raw and remorseless sleet 
 
 That covers the boughs with white 
 And mocks the spring-blossoms sweet. 
 
 77 
 
Oh, for a night of peace ! 
 
 I long not for bliss but rest; 
 
 And the storm within my breast 
 With the winter will not cease, 
 
 Nor flown joy rebuild its nest. 
 
 NATURE 
 
 A laughing, dimpled face I see : 
 "Golden-haired Goddess ! smile on me !" 
 On bended knee I humbly sue 
 One gentle beam from eyes of blue; 
 Gayly and gracefully she bends 
 Her fair head; her white hand extends 
 Instead of the faint joy I seek 
 I feel her kiss upon my cheek ! 
 
 A black-browed Goddess, frowningly 
 Fixes her angry eyes on me; 
 A dusky mantle hides the charms 
 Of polished shoulders, perfect arms; 
 A sombre shape ! She lifts her hand 
 In a stern gesture of command; 
 And when I, trembling, ask her name, 
 Behold it is the very same ! 
 
WINTER MORNING 
 
 Thru snow-covered branches 
 
 A golden light glows; 
 And flush the far hill-sides 
 
 With faint hints of rose; 
 From quaint gabled chimneys 
 
 Smoke slowly uncurls ; 
 From rose-bush and brier 
 
 Flash rubies and pearls. 
 
 The sun rises in splendor, 
 
 Displacing the dawn, 
 Its tints tame and tender 
 
 In deeper hues drawn. 
 The icicles crystal 
 
 Like lances of light 
 Shine out in the sunbeams 
 
 With radiance white. 
 
 Oh, beautiful morning 
 
 Which blesses our eyes ! 
 Oh, bounteous sunlight, 
 
 Eternal surprise, 
 We welcome with rapture ! 
 
 Your tremulous ray, 
 Transfigures to pastime 
 
 The duties of day! 
 
 79 
 
"LE ROI EST MORT VIVE LE ROI!" 
 
 waning sunset in the western sky, 
 
 1 mourn no more that days must die 
 Howsoe er perfect they may be 
 Each leaves behind a lovely prophecy 
 Of fairer future years for you and me. 
 
 Better for both of us the opening year; 
 It lies before us fair, untarnished, clear, 
 No blot upon its beauty yet we may 
 By brave endeavor keep the stains away 
 That make regret part of the passing day. 
 
 And so farewell to all the imperfect past ! 
 Thanks to the Giver of all Good, at last, 
 A year s mistakes and errors have past by. 
 Under the promise of a purer sky 
 Let us no longer mourn that days must die ! 
 January I, 1887. 
 
 80 
 
MARCH 
 
 What is your message, O month of storm? 
 
 Mother of mighty winds that wail 
 About the houses where safe and warm 
 
 Wide-eyed children listen to sleet and hail 
 Beating on roof and window-pane, 
 Or the sudden downward dash of rain. 
 
 And then, again, speaks a velvet voice 
 A Day comes stealing up from the South, 
 
 Into our hearts which she bids rejoice 
 Pansies her eyes and a rose her mouth, 
 
 Her robe of azure with sunlight laced 
 
 A girdle of violets round her waist. 
 
 And we cry in wonder : "Where is March ?" 
 
 Only to see her veiled with rain 
 Falling, anew, from the sky s dim arch! 
 
 For the golden maiden we seek in vain, 
 Our Day fled far to the Southern land 
 Whence April shall lead her by the hand. 
 
 81 
 
APRIL 
 
 Light of heart is the world! the clover 
 Wakens with joy from her wintry dreams, 
 A happy life rushes, and shouts, and gleams 
 In the glad free song of unshackled streams. 
 The bird sings his gratitude over and over ! 
 Bright April days ! 
 
 Busy, brown bees hurry and hover 
 
 Over the earliest blossoming; 
 
 What subtle fragrance the swift airs bring! 
 
 But I, alone, have no heart to sing. 
 
 My spirit s secret unrest can you discover, 
 
 Blithe April days? 
 
 ANEMONES 
 
 Once, as I walked in a vernal hour, 
 Where anemones fringed the way, 
 
 Up sprang in my heart a tiny flower, 
 As fair, and tender, and frail as they. 
 
 The rain and sunshine of rolling years 
 Bring back blossoms to grove and glen; 
 
 But, ah ! what April of smiles and tears 
 Can ever make dead dreams bloom again? 
 
 82 
 
Low whispers Nature : "Never the old 
 
 Anemones may star the sod! 
 Let fresh hopes and new flowers unfold 
 
 In sunlight of spring and the smile of God!" 
 
 VIOLET 
 
 Blue-eyed blossom ! beguiling 
 
 My lips into singing 
 Your praises, half smiling 
 
 At the thought I am bringing 
 A story you ve heard 
 
 Until it must tire ! 
 Yet, does ever the bird 
 
 Stop his song to enquire 
 How many before him 
 
 Have sung the same strain? 
 With summer skies o er him 
 
 Does he ever complain 
 Because buds are many they blossom in vain? 
 
 So, with the rest, I ll venture to forget 
 
 My praise is nothing new, fair vestal Violet! 
 
TRAILING ARBUTUS 
 
 Pink-cheeked little daughter 
 
 Of the May! 
 The South- Wind has sought her 
 
 All the way 
 
 From the lands where languid lilies sway 
 Dreamily thruout the drowsy day, 
 
 Leaving tropic splendor, 
 
 Flying fleet, 
 Till wood-mosses tender 
 
 Touch his feet 
 
 And the Arbutus-blossoms shy and sweet 
 With a blush and smile his coming greet ! 
 
 APPLE BLOSSOMS 
 
 A gnarled old apple-tree the winter long 
 
 Has stood with sullen seeming, hoary, grim, 
 
 Like vanquished veteran brooding o er his wrong; 
 But see ! the soft-voiced Spring has flattered him 
 
 Into the fond belief that he is young and fair! 
 And so he diadems his ancient forehead dim, 
 
 With fragrant, rosy crown she coaxes him to wear. 
 
A DAY OF DREAMS 
 
 Dearest of autumn days, 
 
 Thou rt only made for dreaming! 
 Thru perfect, purple haze 
 
 Are sun-kissed maples gleaming; 
 Clear cascades, downward streaming, 
 Lose half their restless seeming, 
 And the spray more softly sways. 
 
 Ev ry sunbeam s a smile, 
 
 With tender meaning freighted; 
 And the wide Earth the while 
 
 Tho soon to snow-drifts fated 
 Looks just as if she waited 
 Glad news, with heart elated, 
 From some far, fortunate isle. 
 
 So lovely nature seems, 
 
 No blot its beauty staining; 
 Soft haze and golden gleams 
 
 My humbled heart restraining, 
 Hush all of its complaining, 
 And leave no wish remaining 
 For a fairer day of dreams. 
 1880. 
 
 8.? 
 
SEPTEMBER SONG 
 
 In her brown robe gaily bordered 
 With gold and scarlet leaves embroidered 
 Sweet September stands 
 With extended hands. 
 
 Days to dream of and remember 
 Are these bright hours of September 
 As she casts her gold 
 To those beggars bold, 
 
 The ragged roadside weeds and bushes, 
 Till the poorest of them pushes 
 A resplendent crown 
 Thru its leaves of brown. 
 
 Ripe fruit, grain in generous measure 
 Scattered at September s pleasure 
 In vineyard, orchard, field, 
 Stores of gladness yield. 
 
 Grant a grace to good September ! 
 Long her lavish gifts remember, 
 Let her bounty cheer 
 The remaining year ! 
 
 86 
 
OCTOBER 
 
 Oh, this glad October day! 
 
 Curious sunbeams softly swing 
 Into spots long hid away 
 
 Under thickets blossoming. 
 
 Not a leaf stirs save to fall 
 Noiselessly upon the ground. 
 
 Out from grasses brown and tall 
 Not a rustle not a sound. 
 
 And the day, its sky serene, 
 Its rich fruitage and its rest, 
 
 Golden light and stillness, mean 
 Hearts are mute when happiest! 
 
 A ROSE 
 
 I 
 
 The gates of the morning 
 Flung open disclose 
 
 A garden all glowing 
 Where groweth a rose. 
 
 II 
 
 The dawn s dewy rosebud 
 At noon doth unfold, 
 
 And shows its heart s secret 
 Of scarlet and gold. 
 
 8? 
 
Ill 
 
 Red petals lie scattered 
 Along Western skies 
 
 Its brief life is blossomed 
 The Day flower dies! 
 
 SONG 
 
 Little brown leaf, why flit so fast 
 Like a frightened child before the blast? 
 Stay your swift flight and drop to rest 
 A moment upon the mother s breast ! 
 
 Here is a cradle fit for kings ! 
 
 The soft-voiced pine forest ever sings, 
 
 Most musically, lullabies, 
 
 Wooing to slumber the weary eyes. 
 
 The cover is a gorgeous one, 
 Silver lace, by busy spiders spun ; 
 Across the gold and crimson leaves 
 With sunbeam shuttle the Summer weaves. 
 
 Jack Frost, the dyer, used his store 
 Of hues to make richer than e er before; 
 Little leaf you must rest at last 
 Somewhere then, why do you flit so fast? 
 
 88 
 
THANKSGIVING 
 
 I 
 
 In the garden of days, 
 Is one all men praise ! 
 "What are its hours?" 
 Bunches of flowers! 
 For the minutes are roses ! 
 
 "Would that I could crush their sweetness 
 Into some deed of rich completeness!" 
 Thy wish but discloses 
 Impatience of mood, 
 For all that is good 
 
 Grows slowly, without observation. 
 
 Unhurried the steps of Creation! 
 
 Be content to obey 
 
 The laws of right living 
 
 And every day 
 
 Will be one of Thanksgiving! 
 
 II 
 
 When the wan earth warms her fingers cold 
 
 At the sunset s dying embers; 
 When bare trees shiver, and winds are bold 
 Gorged with the forest s wealth of gold; 
 
 What comfort is sad November s? 
 
 89 
 
Of the glad year is November king! 
 
 Since love is the best part of living, 
 To the dear home-feast the heart must cling; 
 Let memory and affection sing 
 
 The happiness of Thanksgiving. 
 
 What matter tho winds are chill and drear 
 
 As we gratefully remember 
 Joyous reunions and household cheer? 
 For the golden, glowing heart of the year 
 
 Beats in the breast of November ! 
 1894. 
 
 WINTER 
 
 "A white, white world !" I said. 
 "A ghostly world and dead. 
 Where are the flowers fled? 
 
 "Gloomy and gray the sky, 
 Drear night is drawing nigh, 
 The breeze is but a sigh. 
 
 "Above its fallen leaves 
 The lonely forest grieves, 
 No peace my pain reprieves. 
 
 "More sad than ever grows 
 The memory of a rose 
 Buried beneath the snows." 
 
 90 
 
Weary, I bowed my head. 
 "Ghost of life s gladness dead 
 ,Why haunt my heart?" I said. 
 
 "Souls of dead dreams once mine 
 Frosts phantom flowers shine 
 Cold, cruel, crystalline ! 
 
 "But see! beyond the cold, 
 Grown in a garden gold, 
 A heavenly rose unfold! 
 
 "Over the flushing snows 
 Glorious color glows 
 Vision of vanished rose ! 
 
 "O wondrous world!" I cried. 
 "Transfigured, glorified, 
 Better than bliss denied !" 
 
 Sweet was the sense of rest, 
 Humbly my heart confessed 
 That even loss is best. 
 
 When from my longing eyes 
 Vanish the sunset skies 
 Shall the still stars arise. 
 
 "Better than love s rose dead; 
 Dreams of ambition fled; 
 Is sweet content!" I said. 
 
A CHRISTMAS SONG 
 
 The cheer of Christmas fills the air. 
 Courage ! kind hearts are everywhere 
 Shining from faces worn with care. 
 
 Toil-hardened hands love-laden are 
 With gifts for children. Fair and far 
 O er sad hearts rises Bethlehem s star. 
 
 The restless feet that fill the way 
 With eager music, seem to say : 
 "How rich in love is Christmas Day!" 
 
 This is the glad hour s highest good, 
 The bond of helpful brotherhood 
 By many dimly understood. 
 
 Moved by its impulse, none the less 
 The selfish give, and learn to bless 
 The season of unselfishness ! 
 
 Listen ! the birthday song again ! 
 An angel chorus, sweet as when 
 Proclaiming : "Peace good will to men !" 
 
 92 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 Is it well with the world? 
 The snow lieth deep 
 And the rose is asleep 
 In its winter-robe curled. 
 All tucked out of sight 
 Under down soft and white. 
 It is well with the world ! 
 
 Is it well with the heart? 
 Defying the snow 
 The heart is aglow, 
 For one day it is part 
 Of Humanity s stream; 
 Nor is love but a dream 
 For it beats in each heart. 
 
 Is it well with the world? 
 Let children reply ! 
 Hear the rapturous cry. 
 War s fierce flag is furled, 
 Peace crowns Love as king- 
 And at Christmas we sing: 
 It is well with the world ! 
 
 93 
 
AS A LITTLE CHILD 
 Man. XV III, 2-10 
 
 "His little ones!" ah, how dare we 
 Treat with less reverence than He 
 These fragile blossoms of humanity? 
 
 O, may we nevermore offend 
 
 His little ones, but show unto the end 
 
 A faint reflection of the Perfect Friend. 
 
 The friend of sinners. We adore 
 
 The spotless robe of purity He wore 
 
 And yet His sternest words were : "Sin no more !" 
 
 Since Christ did not condemn, can we 
 
 Cast the first stone of censure when we see 
 
 How "spotted from the world" our garments be? 
 
 Oh, blind eyes ! Cruel hearts of stone 
 Hear our rebuke in that deep tender tone 
 That could come from the lips of love alone ! 
 
 "Take heed that ye do not despise 
 These little ones whose angel eyes 
 Behold my Father s face in Paradise!" 
 
 "A lesson of humility?" 
 
 Not so I We may be proud to be 
 
 As little children welcomed tenderly! 
 
 94 
 
FIDES EST FORTIS 
 
 When day was young I sought the studio 
 
 Of a great artist. "Paint me Faith!" I cried, 
 
 "Faith clinging to the cross of Christ." "Not so. 
 Yet I will paint her for thee," he replied. 
 
 And from the dreams that dwell within his eyes 
 
 I saw a thought awake, and smiling rise. 
 
 And when I came again, behold ! a face 
 
 Flashed white against a black cloud, strong and 
 
 stern, 
 No tearful, gentle, pleading look, no grace, 
 
 Yet those deep eyes into my being burn. 
 "Why is she sad and strong? Why must she 
 
 stand 
 
 Facing the dark with outstretched toil-worn 
 hand?" 
 
 "For Faith to know, mars her sublimity, 
 
 For Faith to cling, her courage. She is brave 
 
 And dares the dreadful depths of mystery, 
 And with a stern smile challenges the grave. 
 
 O er her the shadow of the Cross is thrown 
 
 And by that symbol, she is not alone." 
 
 95 
 
I looked again, and lo ! a mighty cross 
 
 Grew on my sight from out the background dim, 
 
 The mystic sign of infinite love and loss. 
 
 "Is Grief Love s shadow then? Do tears that 
 brim 
 
 Our eyes shut out the sunshine of His smile?" 
 
 "We learn it late Faith felt it all the while." 
 
 TO A PHARISEE 
 
 Looking down into the loathsome drain 
 
 I saw the sky, 
 And one pure star in its purple plain 
 
 Shone still and high. 
 The star of peace that we ve sought in vain 
 
 May near us lie! 
 
 May lurk, unseen, in some soul forgiv n, 
 
 Patience awhile ! 
 The penitent heart with anguish riven 
 
 Dare we call vile? 
 Look into it for a glimpse of Heaven 
 
 And Christ s own smile ! 
 
 96 
 
KEATS 
 
 Unhappy poet ! Greek born out of time ! 
 As if the soul of sweet Anacreon 
 His sandals wet with England s dew, upon 
 Her chalky cliffs had sung an alien rhyme 
 With burning brain and heart unsatisfied. 
 We almost hear thy sobbing as we read 
 Until we long for power to still thy need 
 And grant thee all the bliss stern life denied; 
 As an ^Eolian harp in cypress shade 
 By viewless hands of zephyr softly played, 
 Storms break the slender strings and so release 
 A mightier music tortured soul of sound! 
 Life was thy Lamia, Keats; hast thou not found 
 In arms of kinder Death, rest, love and peace? 
 
 STAR-LIGHT 
 
 And stars shall rise when day is done. 
 Shall we, then, mourn the sunken sun? 
 The stars are suns ! Uplift your eyes 
 To the still splendor of the skies. 
 Tis God s great answer to our pain: 
 "Unrest and longing are in vain; 
 Be patient, sad and shadowed hearts, 
 When joy s bold radiance departs; 
 And ever, as the sunshine dies, 
 Soft twilight comes, and stars shall rise 
 
 97 
 
WITH US STILL 
 
 Alone and yet not so ! 
 
 Sweet Nature s face 
 Peeps into every room. A whisper low 
 
 Breathes through the leaves about the quiet 
 
 place 
 And I am not alone. Ah, no ! Ah, no ! 
 
 And gentle voices break 
 
 Upon my ears; 
 My listening, longing soul at once awake, 
 
 The music of their loving message hears 
 And all my heart is glad for their dear sake. 
 
 "The loved and gone?" Not so! 
 
 The loved and here. 
 I almost catch their breathing soft and low, 
 
 The rustle of their robes they are so near! 
 I long to hold their hands nor let them go ! 
 
 NOT AS I WILL 
 
 Not as I will, O Father ! Should I choose, 
 Never a cloud might cross my summer sky; 
 
 I might forget the need of cooling dews 
 
 And all my cherished flowers might fade and die 
 
 Lacking the largesse of adversity. 
 
 98 
 
Not as I will. I would not dare direct 
 My destiny one brief December day. 
 
 Whether it be Thy pleasure to protect 
 
 My life from pain, or not, help me to say, 
 "Not as I will." And may I ever pray 
 
 Tho sorrows sword be driven to the hilt 
 
 Within my heart, "Dear Father, as Thou wilt." 
 
 AT THE THRESHOLD 
 
 Oh, golden days of childhood ! I look back 
 Upon you as upon some perfumed Spring 
 When each new day a new delight doth bring 
 As simple, fresh and sweet as violets are, 
 Or flowering grass with its one silver star. 
 No element of loveliness you lack 
 Departed days! 
 
 I could not, if I would, your peace o erpraise. 
 Joys came like wild-birds welcome tho unsought, 
 And all that made my waking life so worth 
 The living, was the bright, unspoken thought, 
 "I have a father in heaven and one on earth." 
 
 Oh, untried years before me ! I look out 
 Upon you thru a melancholy mist, 
 The landscape lost in mystery, nor kissed 
 By any beam of hope; the tenderness 
 Which sorrow may conceal, I only guess 
 
 99 
 
But cannot see, and groping forth in doubt 
 "My God," I pray, 
 
 "Hold thou my hand along the lonely way 
 Where only frost-flowers grow on hedges white." 
 For just as I had learned its priceless worth 
 A light was quenched that left me in the night 
 I have two fathers in heaven and none on earth. 
 
 TURGUENIEFF 
 
 \ 
 
 O mountain spirit of our level age ! 
 
 O master of the matchless skill 
 
 Which bends emotion to thy will 
 
 And firmly fixes on poetic page 
 
 Pictures of life that wake an answering thrill. 
 
 O grand and mighty voice ! How have we dared 
 Assume that we could comprehend 
 The heart that held humanity its friend, 
 And in its desperate endeavor shared, 
 Pitying, forgiving, loving to the end. 
 
 Ingratitude thy royal spirit tried, 
 
 Thy guerdon was an exile s grave 
 
 For service so sincere and brave. 
 
 No lance of light the darkness doth divide. 
 
 Savior of serfs, thyself thou couldst not save ! 
 
 100 
 
When Germany forgot her giant debt 
 
 To gifted souls, and granted grace 
 
 To the base prejudice of race 
 
 A great heart broke that might be beating yet, 
 
 And who can fill Auerbach s empty place? 
 
 So Russia shows her gratitude to thee ! 
 Her noblest, dying in a distant land; 
 And yet, what empty honor from her hand 
 Is worth thy fame, which evermore shall be 
 The guiding star of Freedom s gallant band? 
 
 Turguenieff ! myriad hearts are thine 
 
 In the New World, and proud to own 
 
 Allegiance to a lord who rules alone 
 
 By royal manhood s right divine; 
 
 Love is thy sceptre, truth thy crystal throne ! 
 
 "AND THE LIFE WAS THE LIGHT OF 
 
 MEN" 
 
 I 
 
 Dark were the days of old, dark as if God had 
 
 forgotten 
 The world He had made and all His suffering 
 
 children. 
 Life was a riddle unread and the gloomy grave 
 
 was no answer, 
 Life meant loneliness then, and Love unsatisfied 
 
 longing. 
 
 101 
 
II 
 
 Dawned from the darkness at last the light of a 
 new revelation 
 
 Mighty, yet tender and true as the Master who 
 made it immortal. 
 
 Lingered the light, and lay along the path of the 
 ages, 
 
 Uncertainly followed at first, but soon the foot 
 steps grow firmer; 
 
 Now the broadening beams are disclosing the 
 bounteous harvests, 
 
 Showing the beauty of earth, dear pledge of the 
 beauty of heaven, 
 
 Touching with tender tints the hills on the West 
 ern horizon, 
 
 Beautiful hills of hope from whose unattained 
 summits 
 
 Unseen slopes will lead down, when we shall have 
 reached them 
 
 Into a land of love and the fair fields of fulfill 
 ment. 
 
 102 
 
DRUBEN AM WIESENRAND 
 
 Translated from a poem by an unknown Austrian 
 Soldier 
 
 Far on the meadow land 
 
 Two daws are hiding 
 Shall I fall on Danube s strand, 
 
 Or in Poland riding? 
 What matters where my grave? 
 E er they shall free my soul 
 I ll fight like soldier brave ! 
 
 There on the furrowed field 
 Two ravens are crying 
 
 Shall I be first to yield 
 Fallen and dying? 
 
 What is the difference? 
 
 Thousands and thousands ride 
 
 In Austria s defence ! 
 
 Right across the sunset-red 
 
 Two crows are flying 
 When comes the Reaper dread? 
 
 Scythe there s no denying? 
 What matters it to me ? 
 Our banners wave and sweep 
 On to Belgrade, I see! 
 1915. 
 
 103 
 
SONG 
 
 A nightingale fell in love with a star 
 Reflected down in the deep water 
 
 A wandering bard s my fortunes are 
 And I love the Sultan s daughter. 
 
 As I sang in the Sultan s court one day 
 His daughter dropped me a flower 
 
 In a half-caressing, half-careless way 
 That chained me with magic power. 
 
 The Sultan s daughter s eyes are dark 
 But sunny and bright her tresses, 
 
 Her smile in a ray of sunshine, mark! 
 And whatever it falls on blesses. 
 
 The songster could not fly up to the sky 
 Nor the star drop down from heaven. 
 
 But he sang his songs to her (that s why 
 The nightingales sing at even). 
 
 The bird did not dream to wed the star 
 But sang every night by the water, 
 
 So I will worship and sing from afar 
 Unseen by the Sultan s daughter. 
 
 Written at the age of eight years. 
 IO4 
 
LARAMIE 
 
 In the arms of the hills 
 Storms threaten in vain, 
 
 Lies loveliest Laramie, 
 Pearl of the plain. 
 
 If she looks to the east 
 A breastwork of hills; 
 
 West the Medicine Bow 
 Guards her from ills. 
 
 Her namesake the river 
 Has gladdened with grain 
 
 The Gem of the Rockies, 
 Pearl of the plain! 
 
 May brightest skies ever 
 Above her head bend; 
 
 No storm of misfortune 
 Upon her descend ! 
 
 And we all who love her 
 Rejoice in each gain 
 
 That waits lovely Laramie, 
 Pearl of the plain! 
 
 105 
 
CAMP AT LAKE MOUNTAIN 
 
 We sang along the mountain road 
 That thru the light and shadows flowed, 
 While down the slope forever strode 
 Endless processions of the pine. 
 Above, the sky s resplendent shine, 
 Around, the whisper : "You are mine ! 
 
 "Neglected long misunderstood 
 Nature would teach you all things good, 
 Learn the deep lore of lake and wood." 
 Wider grew our horizon lines ; 
 The mountains sentinelled with pines 
 Showed barren spurs, all scarred by mines. 
 
 Then little parks with vivid grass; 
 Over them light and shadow pass 
 In noiseless flight. The frowning mass 
 Of sombre forest, granite wall, 
 They do not seem to fear at all ! 
 The baby brooks laugh as they fall. 
 
 Then up again, with merry song 
 
 Carrying as they dance along 
 
 Grains of gold yet unstained by wrong. 
 
 Why should these shining flecks cause strife 
 
 Or ever curse a human life 
 
 With avarice? The wood is rife 
 
 106 
 
With treasures beautiful as they! 
 The emerald moss along the way 
 And ruby berries on the spray. 
 Why should we e en remember care? 
 Breathing this vital mountain air 
 The soul finds perfect freedom where 
 
 Great nature builds a house for her 
 
 With stately columns of the fir 
 
 And arabesques of juniper. 
 
 Its echoing halls are vaster far 
 
 Than any trod by king or czar, 
 
 More richly carved. How tall they are ! 
 
 We lie upon the mountain s breast 
 Watching the wonders of the west, 
 Importunate questions stilled to rest. 
 O life of freedom! Glad release 
 When all perplexing problems cease 
 And we drink a deeper draught of peace. 
 
 How lovely looks the world from here ! 
 Unsightlinesses disappear, 
 Discordant sounds we cannot hear; 
 Just the sweet murmurs of the brook 
 Below in some fern-feathered nook, 
 The prattle of the pines. We look 
 
 Across the wide plains lying at our feet, 
 The summer air all shimmering with heat, 
 Find the far city fair existence sweet. 
 
 107 
 
The lavish largesse of the sunset spent, 
 We hastened home, at last, to fire and tent. 
 To peak and forest, night new magic lent. 
 
 The evening sky with unguessed splendors filled 
 Day s golden cup; its ruby wine had spilled 
 As if our royal host, the mountain, willed 
 To give our perfect day a close divine. 
 The forest darkened and we saw the shine 
 Of tangled stars in tresses of the pine. 
 
 O friends about that campfire ! Still we hear 
 Each laugh and song and jest that echoed clear, 
 And still the firelight shines on faces dear ! 
 Still thru the forest arches dark and grim 
 Floats the fearless spirit of some sweet old hymn 
 Of gratitude to God. Within the dim 
 Walls of the world that rise so gray and stern, 
 As in the fairy haunts of flowers and fern, 
 Campfires of friendship and of memory burn! 
 
 108 
 
CAYUGA LAKE 
 
 Among the green hills 
 A summer nap taking 
 
 The lovely lake lies 
 
 Nor dreams of awaking. 
 
 She looks as she lies 
 
 Like Princess enchanted. 
 
 A hundred long years 
 To Morpheus granted! 
 
 From blue skies above 
 
 Star eyes without number 
 
 Gaze anxiously down 
 
 And guard her deep slumber. 
 
 Around her the hills 
 
 Their silent watch keeping 
 Grow weary at last 
 
 And they too are sleeping. 
 
 The Fairy Prince comes 
 As dawn the East flushes; 
 
 At kiss of the Sun 
 
 The lake wakes with blushes ! 
 
 109 
 
ON THE ST. JOHNS 
 
 Slowly we sail up the mystical river 
 
 Magic with moonlight, sombre with shade; 
 
 Stirred by the night wind the tall grasses shiver, 
 Of their own trembling shadows afraid! 
 
 And we find not one but three rivers flowing 
 In the dim midnight down to the sea. 
 
 Two of them dark, and one of gold showing 
 Where the steps of the silver moon shall be. 
 
 At our approach by the pathway golden 
 
 Sentinel cypress on either hand 
 Start out from the forest so weird and olden 
 
 Guarding the gate to a lovely land. 
 
 Shielding fair Florida ! Shy forest maiden, 
 Blue-eyed lakes laughing thru moss-veiled pine; 
 
 Slender, sun-kissed fingers with flowers laden, 
 Have you room for homage? Here is mine ! 
 
 no 
 
MOUNTAIN TEACHING 
 
 I saw the Mountains lie 
 Like a bit of bluer sky 
 
 Along the horizon s rim 
 Dreamlike, distant and dim. 
 
 Hope, at their beauty, stirred 
 And whispered a soft, sweet word : 
 
 I thought, as I drew near : 
 "What an inspiration here ! 
 
 "Like birds on sunlit wing 
 One s very thoughts must sing. 
 
 "What an impulse to poets Art 
 When one lives in an opal s heart! 
 
 "Locked amid color and light 
 What could not the dullest write?" 
 
 The mountains drew nearer still, 
 And they wrought their royal will. 
 
 White and serene and high, 
 Their foreheads touched the sky, 
 
 in 
 
But their cheeks were scarred with tears 
 And the furrows of untold years. 
 
 Then the outlines of amethyst 
 Were shrouded in soft, gray mist. 
 
 I sit at the mountains feet 
 Their moods are many and sweet. 
 
 A new charm in every change. 
 But a silence deep and strange 
 
 Has touched my lips like a hand. 
 I begin to understand 
 
 The dark pines plaintive tongue. 
 But my songs are not yet sung 
 
 Listening still to the psalm 
 
 Of the mountains grand and calm, 
 
 And Self has sought its nest 
 Hushed like a bird to rest. 
 
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