UC-NRLF 
 
 $B 27M flTD 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
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 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/frommetoyouOOdreyrich 
 
FROM ME TO YOU 
 
 BY 
 
 LILLIAN GERTRUDE SHUMANJZ^/€^)^/^^S 
 
 " So must I wrap my song into a shell, 
 And never murmur if men say, ' Not well! ' ' 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 
 
 1898 
 

 Copyright, 1898, by Lee and Shepard. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 From Me to You. 
 
 Nortoooi ?Pre8» 
 
 J. S. Cushing & Co. - Berwick & Smitli 
 
 Norwood Mass. U.S.A. 
 
 • • • • 
 
 i« • -•- •• 
 
 • • • • ( 
 
 c« • • • 
 
 • ■ • * • 
 « « t • • • 
 
tlTo £p^ parents 
 
 IN REVERENCE 
 
 ivil91905 
 
FROM ME TO YOU 
 
 Into the garden of my life 
 
 I gayly went one golden day, 
 To gather flowers standing rife, 
 
 'Mid banks where memories' shadows sway. 
 
 Full many blooms the herd among 
 
 I knew not, either name or seed. 
 So strange the years about them clung, 
 
 So dim the mists that wrought the deed. 
 
 From out the garden of my life 
 I sadly passed one darkening day. 
 
 For there I plucked, 'mid wakening strife, 
 A bud that pale and wistful lay. 
 
 And will you take this flower of mine, 
 This soul so frail and yet so true, 
 
 And will you guard it through all time? 
 From me to you — from me to you. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "ENOUGH" OF THEE? ..,»,,.. I 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF EMPTINESS 2 
 
 "SO SOME OF HIM LIVED" 3 
 
 "TOl" 4 
 
 THE SHADOWED ORPHEUS 5 
 
 TREE-THOUGHT 8 
 
 HARVEST MOON 9 
 
 UNANSWERED lO 
 
 IN THE TWILIGHT 12 
 
 THE ROSE AND THE CYPRESS LEAF . . . .13 
 
 THE THREE SOULS I4 
 
 THE MEED I7 
 
 AUTUMN 18 
 
 MOON-DRIFTS I9 
 
 "WHICH?" 20 
 
 [V] 
 
PAGE 
 
 THE earth's creation 21 
 
 FRAGMENT 24 
 
 SUNSET 25 
 
 TENANTLESS .26 
 
 ABSENCE 27 
 
 night's scroll ...*.... 28 
 
 MEMORY 30 
 
 MY SUNBEAM 3I 
 
 APRIL 32 
 
 INERTIA 33 
 
 GLEAMS 34 
 
 TO SLEEP 35 
 
 STANZAS AT NIGHT 36 
 
 god's THRONE 42 
 
 A THOUGHT 45 
 
 FIRELIGHT 46 
 
 DAY-BIRTH . . 47 
 
 "SO LONG AS THOU ABIDE" 48 
 
 NOVEMBER 49 
 
 THE GOAL 50 
 
 ELDORADO . . . 5I 
 
 "TO GAIN A world" 53 
 
 NATURE'S CALDRON 54 
 
 [Vi] 
 
PAGE 
 
 LOVE: AN ALLEGORY 56 
 
 GLIMPSES 57 
 
 THE REAL 63 
 
 THE WOOING 64 
 
 THE ALTAR GATE 65 
 
 THE PERFECT DAY 66 
 
 THE FAR SEA 67 
 
 THE LULLABY 68 
 
 NAMELESS . 69 
 
 IN THE FENWAY 70 
 
 "EGO" 71 
 
 WEARINESS 72 
 
 SUN-GORGE . . . 73 
 
 CHOICE 74 
 
 COMPENSATION 75 
 
 SURGE 76 
 
 "TELL, o sea!" 77 
 
 MOODS 78 
 
 MYSTERY 80 
 
 " LINES " 81 
 
 THE SNOW ,82 
 
 THE GREATER I S;^ 
 
 RESPONSIBILITY 85 
 
 [Vii] 
 
PAGE 
 MIRAGE AT DUSK . .86 
 
 LONENESS 87 
 
 DECREED 88 
 
 PROCRASTINATION .89 
 
 NIGHT-PEACE 90 
 
 TRANSITION . . 9I 
 
 FINIS 92 
 
 [viii] 
 
"ENOUGH" OF THEE? 
 
 "Enough" of thee? 
 Nay, tire the winds of crooning to the lea? 
 Do waves have fill of lapping the near shore ? 
 Do not the skies ask stars for more and more ? 
 Do sun's rays ever weary of the earth ? 
 Do trees cease yearning to the cloud's white birth? 
 Does pure-faced moon forget her long- tried plight ? 
 Does day e'er satiate the claiming night ? 
 Does mated song of birds have one whit less 
 Of longing than was heard in Time's first stress? 
 Need flowers hide their wanting from the bee? 
 How can I have " enough," dear love, of thee ? 
 
 CO 
 
THE SPIRIT OF EMPTINESS. 
 
 The Spirit of Emptiness lies abroad, 
 
 Out there in the night it burrows its hoard, 
 
 It takes from the lap of the still-born sea. 
 
 It steals from the honied sack of the bee, 
 
 And rushes along, and all in a trice 
 
 It filches the soul of a man sans price ; 
 
 It wears many faces on different days, 
 
 Like the lettered clouds through the sun-strewn 
 
 maze. 
 Ah, me ! when I saw it last on the plain, 
 'Twas a little bird that I chased in vain. 
 
 [2] 
 
^^SO SOME OF HIM LIVED, BUT MOST OF 
 HIM DIED, EVEN AS YOU AND I." 
 
 RUDYARD Kipling's " The Vampire." 
 
 The best of us dies when somethmg within 
 Gives way, in our youth, to the stress and din 
 That eats out the soul of our hope and faith 
 (The whole at the start but the merest wraith) . 
 But we Hve just the same, and choke the need 
 That yearns to the higher and better creed ; 
 And we fold our hands as we learn to sift 
 From the heartache and haunt that, dark-veiled, 
 
 lift 
 The form of the past- dreams we took for dead, 
 But were only buried half-way instead. 
 
 [3] 
 
"TOI." 
 
 One tree stark black against the sky, 
 One sunbeam cutting from on high, 
 One cloud that spread until it grew 
 Into the shape of you — of you ! 
 
 One mountain flecked with untold gold, 
 One hollow resting in its fold, 
 One bird that ever swifter flew, 
 Breaking my heart for you — for you ! 
 
 [4] 
 
THE SHADOWED ORPHEUS. 
 
 The lagging day is done, and from its throne 
 
 UnwiUingly the sun slips to the west, 
 The pillared clouds from out the curtained dome 
 
 Of heaven scamper merrily to rest ; 
 Through the dim distance fades the surging song 
 
 Of feathered love, and over all the earth 
 The welcome night throws out its mantle long. 
 
 Twilight outfades, and hails the gladdening birth 
 Of storied winds, and busy, cantering leaves ; 
 
 Darkness appears, but like some weary, spent. 
 And longing Orpheus, one great shadow heaves 
 
 In hazy likeness, and with eyes intent 
 
 C5] 
 
n. 
 
 Upon the blood-drained sky. With outstretched 
 arms^ 
 
 Across the star-swept, veinless space it grows, 
 Faltering the steps as with some vague alarms 
 
 Inborn. Through the still air the pulsing throes 
 Of tender, yearning music rise and fall, 
 
 And all the close-drawn strings from heaven to 
 man 
 Vibrate and snap as with some sad, rapt call, 
 
 Straining and eager 'neath their tensioned span 
 Of voice. Slowly the air gathers its fold 
 
 Of pleading winds, and chance- tossed, dreaming 
 sighs ; 
 Gently, with waiting breath, the watered gold 
 
 Of moon-floods streams athwart the skies. 
 
 [6] 
 
m. 
 
 Then sways my shadowed Orpheus, and the strain 
 
 That binds the dim -perceived Eurydice 
 Breaks as he turns, and all the termless pain 
 
 Of heartache and of self-wrought misery 
 Bursts through the realms of pining, thirsting night, 
 
 ThriUing the watchers strewn upon earth's ways, 
 Echoing unceasing and with weary might 
 
 Through the great silence of unending days, 
 Draining the sleep from countless tired eyes. 
 
 Filling with years the worn-out, listening brains, 
 Chilling the hopes of thronging, prayered cries, 
 
 Doling to man his well-earned meed of pains. 
 
 w 
 
TREE-THOUGHT. 
 
 Did you ever think how trees in the wind 
 
 Were like human souls that had one time sinned ? 
 
 How they bow and they beg, and push and sway, 
 
 Through "the endless night and the endless day, — 
 
 How they gnash in their rage and wanton pain. 
 
 How they rear erect but to fall again ; 
 
 How the lashing Fate scars the under- dread. 
 
 And wails through the boughs till they weigh like 
 
 lead; 
 And how, when at eve the man-world's asleep. 
 They endlessly scream and endlessly weep ? 
 
 [8] 
 
HARVEST MOON. 
 
 The evening its tattered wings has spread, 
 And lowering, dropped to earth's rocky bed, 
 And a yellow moon, like a second sun, 
 Has burst through the night in the fight just won : 
 The clouds are all fringed with its purpled fumes. 
 And the ashy gray that the gold consumes ; 
 The tree-hmbs are stark with their livid bath, 
 And murmur in fear, and with ghostly laugh. 
 While out of the night-haze that creeps apace, 
 I see but as ever, the one drawn face, 
 The waving hair by the winds inly pressed, 
 And the sad, lost eyes that my " Warum " guessed. 
 
 [9] 
 
UNANSWERED. 
 
 Do you hear the soughing of the wind, 
 You there in your beaten fortress pinned, 
 Do you see the trees bend down toward 
 The spot where the rain-pools dent the sod, 
 Down there in the silent gloaming ? 
 
 Do you see how the leaves show underneath 
 The paling and pulling cypress wreath. 
 And darkening of sky and earth and air 
 And warning of eyes that promised fair, 
 Down there where my heart is roaming ? 
 
 And do you feel that the storm is near, 
 And do you know that the spring is here, 
 A sickly spring with a time-worn face. 
 Like the seared lines of David's race, 
 Down deep in Hfe's waters foaming? 
 
 [lO] 
 
And heard you not how the night made screech, 
 And saw you not how my arms did reach, 
 For the starred ghost that passed again, 
 For the dream that fleeing burst the pain — 
 Down there where the boughs make moaning ? 
 
 ["] 
 
IN THE TWILIGHT. 
 
 When the sun is darkening 
 
 And twilight appears, 
 When Nature is hearkening 
 
 For earth-children's tears, 
 When dreams are awaking 
 
 And God stands and waits, 
 When shadows are breaking 
 
 And sin at heart quakes, 
 When star-worlds in glory 
 
 Resplendent forthshine. 
 And moon-drifts so hoary 
 
 Ages' silver design, 
 Then come thoughts so holy 
 
 Of time that is past, 
 Then am I thine solely — 
 
 Ah, if it could last ! 
 
 [12] 
 
THE ROSE AND THE CYPRESS-LEAF. 
 
 I had a rose and a cypress-leaf, 
 And the one sighed, " Life, oh, life is brief ! " 
 But the other laughed, and sang in glee, 
 " No matter the end — Life's joy for me ! " 
 
 And I kept them both this many year, 
 Till the hopes that fed them long were sere, 
 And the rose, poor soul ! is withered quite. 
 But the cypress-leaf is green and bright. 
 
 [13] 
 
THE THREE SOULS. 
 
 My first soul, he of outside growth, 
 He laughed and prattled, nothing loath. 
 And took and gave and ventured high 
 The trickster world to satisfy. 
 He showed unto the questioning gaze 
 Of neighbor eye no mystic maze, 
 But that which was he, lived he plain. 
 Nor sought for deeper heart-born pain ; 
 He had no care for morrow's claim, 
 Nor chanced yesterdays all lame ; 
 He seized his due, and paid his due, 
 As well to me — as well to you. 
 
 [14] 
 
II. 
 
 My second soul, for every day, 
 
 The one that faltered on his way, 
 
 He was a mask to fill the space 
 
 Of hourly nothings in the race. 
 
 He shrewder was, of unkempt mien. 
 
 He fought against my teachings e'en, 
 
 He pandered to the gain and cost. 
 
 Yet sighed he not for that once lost. 
 
 He knew the wheat from tare, and yet 
 
 Grim habit could no footing get. 
 
 He was of social, homely will. 
 
 No stirring dreams, nor fancied ill ; 
 
 He ventured seldom from the path, 
 
 Nor relished much my aftermath. 
 
 But that which said I — " thou must do,' 
 
 That did he well — for me, for you. 
 
 [15] 
 
ni. 
 
 My third soul, he of inside birth, 
 
 He struggled forth to tortured earth ; 
 
 He never showed his greatest might, 
 
 Nor ever saw day's brightest light ; 
 
 He, too, rebelled, but still and long. 
 
 And no man wist the secret wrong ; 
 
 He vastly saw, yet could not be. 
 
 That which the mates asked, carelessly. 
 
 He moments knew when all the world 
 
 In tumult through his veins lay curled. 
 
 He shunned in timid fear so much. 
 
 All that profaned by common touch — 
 
 So far away in night he crept. 
 
 And there in anguish ceaseless wept — 
 
 God's conscience had he — stained yet true- 
 
 Deep buried though — like me, like you. 
 
 [16] 
 
THE MEED. 
 
 Out into all the endless track of night 
 I fling my very self that will not rest ; 
 
 It falters, waits, and then with blinded sight 
 Sinks downward to the dream-lit, visioned breast. 
 
 And in that patient heart I find the meed, 
 The very want that wasted all the day. 
 
 And drink and drink to quench the year-fed need, 
 Till fadest thou, oh blessed Love, away 1 
 
 [17] 
 
AUTUMN. 
 
 The autumn comes, and in its frenzied wake 
 Buds' tears, and whirl of falling leaf-souls vast, 
 
 And harrowed winds that bloodied vine- tops slake, 
 And cold-breathed dawns that shudder from 
 their fast. 
 
 And star-drenched clouds that falter, wist and 
 shorn, 
 
 And withered skies, and moons of steely gold, 
 And frosted sod, and echoed faith long gone, 
 
 And poor Love out there shivering in the cold. 
 
 [i8] 
 
MOON-DRIFTS. 
 
 The clouds were jealous of the moon to-night ; 
 They bound and wrapped her, and hid her from 
 
 sight, 
 Save once, when with bandaged eye and nose, 
 She 'scaped her captors and suddenly rose, 
 Majestic in robings of silver gleen, 
 That trailed far beneath to the water's sheen ; 
 The spun-silk that shimmered and shivered by, 
 The pale, liquid fire that dripped from on high. 
 
 [19] 
 
"WHICH?" 
 
 I wonder which the hardest is to bear, 
 
 Drowse of tears wept, or the deep choking wear 
 
 Of those unwept — the flood-gates opened wide, 
 
 And all the wrecks of overflowing tide. 
 
 Or the pent anguish — that which rends the soul, 
 
 Which wastes the sinew, and makes bare the whole 
 
 Of strife — the outward smile, the pleasing vein 
 
 Of Hfe-faced talk — while deep within the pain 
 
 Of barred waters and the rush of will, 
 
 Shivers laughter and sweats the mask of ilL 
 
 [20] 
 
THE EARTH'S CREATION. 
 Once, — long ago, 
 Before Time's dearth, 
 Though yet the glow 
 Of Sun with birth 
 Of Sin was red — 
 Above, in sport. 
 From unknown led, 
 An impish thought 
 Of Satan bom. 
 Played round about 
 From dusk till mom — 
 For weeds will sprout 
 While flowers pure. 
 E'en by their side 
 Are sent no cure 
 For death. At hide 
 And seek with star 
 And moon it long 
 Did play — then far 
 Away its song 
 
 [21] 
 
Was heard — a new 
 Toy had it found. 
 From heaven's blue, 
 Across all sound 
 To bubbles blow 
 Was now its chief 
 Delight, and so 
 It came to grief, 
 For' one poor ring 
 Of shape like all 
 Its mates — a thing 
 Most weak and small — 
 In falling, clung 
 To space, and there 
 Suspended hung; 
 Far out in air 
 It ever grew, 
 And soon with birth 
 Of creatures new, 
 Was called the "Earth," 
 Its children — "Man." 
 Like to some art, 
 
 [22] 
 
In love with plan 
 Of Nature, part 
 Of itself so 
 Perfects that it 
 Rivals Her who 
 Gave it writ 
 To live — so, high 
 Above all space. 
 Old Satan's eye 
 Ne'er closed — apace 
 His wonder welled — 
 The Imp in pride 
 And glory swelled — 
 Still there they bide 
 As they did then. 
 They laugh at all 
 Its woe, as when 
 They saw it fall — 
 ' They ever wait, 
 And marvel much 
 It does not break 
 At Time's dread touch. 
 [23] 
 
FRAGMENT. 
 
 The bud of morn lives not to flower ; 
 Seize thou thy joy, for briefs the hour, 
 Drain out thy cup in spite of pain, 
 Life's tears will fill it up again. 
 
 [34] 
 
SUNSET. 
 
 {To G. L. S.) 
 
 Rose steps mounting, flight on flight, 
 Vast from earth's remotest height ; 
 Gold tints stretching, hue on hue, 
 Dim across all heaven's blue ; 
 Drifting clouds by moon-glints pressed, 
 Stamped in glory — Nature's crest — 
 Livid shadows, purpling long. 
 Crossed in circles by bird's song ; 
 Reddening sun-glow, God's own face, 
 In the quavering mist of lace ; 
 Veil of hazy, gleaming light 
 Thrown o'er all the glorious sight ! 
 
 [25] 
 
TENANTLESS. 
 
 The forehead of Night was puckered and drawn 
 With voiceless, surged dreams of Man's travail born, 
 And Silence outpealed and cravingly pled, 
 The Soul of the World that woke and outspread. 
 
 But sorrowful Winds compassionate heard. 
 And smoothed the crossed brow with pitying word. 
 And whispered good cheer the turbulent sea, 
 Then fled and were drowned in Night's mystery. 
 
 [26] 
 
ABSENCE. 
 
 Oh Love, my Love, now thou art gone again. 
 
 And manifold of deed and speech has fled, 
 And distance shakes a wearied finger when 
 
 I call and call, and beg for thee instead 
 Of icy silence and the after-fear 
 
 That claims its own, and goads its trackless way 
 Into my heart that trembles, hurt and sear. 
 
 Wilt thou not answer if all through the day 
 And longer peopled night I endless wait. 
 
 If through the tired hours I toil and serve. 
 And never murmur though the spring days slake, 
 
 If I abide nor ever slightly swerve. 
 Wilt thou return and wash the darkened years. 
 
 And bind my heart, and stem my ceaseless tears ? 
 
 [27] 
 
NIGHT'S SCROLL. 
 
 Hast seen the scroll of color rise, 
 
 Gold to crimson, crimson to blue, 
 
 Then, deepening through the bursting skies, 
 
 The spreading purple's royal hue. 
 
 The pinnacles of gray and dove, 
 
 Like longing arms stretched out to take 
 
 The dream forms of forbidden love, 
 
 Like angels' wings that fleeing wake 
 
 The soul that haunts us unaware ? 
 
 n. 
 
 This hast thou seen, and then the height 
 Of rose — the blending into cloud — 
 The pouring of the whole great white 
 Of fleecy haze — the pressing crowd 
 Of dwindHng shapes that seem to loom 
 
 [28] 
 
And grow — and then how down around, 
 The trees take blackness and the gloom 
 Of night — each leaf clear cut — all sound 
 Suspended, save the roar of self ? 
 
 in. 
 
 All this saw I, or dreamt it in my sleep, 
 Only that far below the darkening world, 
 A river ran, as still as souls that weep. 
 Deep shining, and within, as anger hurled. 
 The fiery image of the sinking sky, 
 That ever outward fled, until at last 
 The inky cover swung on hinges high. 
 And shut the quivering sight into the past 
 And left me hopeless on the sands of life ! 
 
 [29] 
 
MEMORY. 
 
 Pale memory rose and whispered to me, 
 
 " Come, come for a taste of my misery ! " 
 
 And it stalked abroad through hot-rayed sun. 
 
 Till the daisies ashened, one by one : 
 
 And I turned a-weary from the sight, 
 
 But the Thing, it laughed in reddening light, 
 
 And echoed afar its frenzied call. 
 
 Till the night at last began to fall. 
 
 And the draining winds soothed out the sound. 
 
 And the darkness drifted all around. 
 
 [30] 
 
"MY SUNBEAM." 
 
 (2b S. S.) 
 
 The room was still and dark, 
 Each object dim and stark ; 
 I sat and listened long 
 To wind-bursts' haunted song, 
 Till lo ! upon the floor, 
 Like hoarded scholar's lore, 
 A sunbeam made its lair, — 
 And told that thou wert there ! 
 
 [31] 
 
APRIL. 
 
 The Dawn arose, and from its heaving breast 
 Poured forth its bird-thrilled, echoing song of rest ; 
 And shadowed moon and star crept shyly back 
 Before the splendor of the Day's glad track. 
 
 And as I list, and caught the holy play 
 Of pendant airs and budding tree- eyes' way, 
 I heard a voice from out the April hum, 
 That sobbed despair, and, choking, whispered, 
 "Come." 
 
 [32] 
 
INERTIA. 
 
 The great pulse is ever 
 
 beating, beating ; 
 The dread time is ever 
 
 fleeting, fleeting ; 
 Hear its quickening heart throbs 
 
 dulling, dulling, 
 Whisp'ring how base minds waste, 
 
 lulling, lulling 
 Actions into past life. 
 
 Dreaming, dreaming 
 Seem I ever — moon-like, 
 
 gleaming, gleaming. 
 Not with self-light, but with 
 
 seeming, seeming ! 
 
 L33] 
 
GLEAMS. 
 
 The dull against the sky 
 
 Of crimson, and the rock of blue — 
 
 The cradle of the stars — 
 
 And then, — the whole earth shining through 1 
 
 So saintly, pure, and purged 
 
 Of mortal touch — a tree, a cloud — 
 
 And now beyond — the fear ! 
 
 My dream moon, virgin of her shroud ! 
 
 [34] 
 
TO SLEEP. 
 
 To bed and to sleep and to rest at last 
 From the fevered dreams of the day that's past, 
 From the wanton hurts of the wanton great, 
 And the tortured nerves of the hidden fate, 
 From the weary toil and the duty strife. 
 And the fawning self with its breast wounds rife, 
 To the pitying sleep and the thought of Thee, 
 And forgetfulness of the dawn to be. 
 
 [35] 
 
STANZAS AT NIGHT. 
 
 I. 
 
 The day has out-faded, and night burns low, 
 And the winds are tired of pushing so. 
 And poor labored Eros has bruised his wings, 
 And fallen to earth, where he hollow sings. 
 
 [36] 
 
n. 
 
 There's a place in the clouds where the sky makes 
 
 dent, 
 And unveils its bosom with star-worlds rent, 
 And it trails along until heaven and sea 
 Are lost in the foam of eternity. 
 
 [37] 
 
in. 
 
 Sorrowing wind met sorrowing sea, 
 And they both sighed, " Woe, oh, woe is me ! " 
 Till the night took up the burdened lay, 
 And oozed it forth till the break of day. 
 
 [38] 
 
IV. 
 
 Where a haloed cloud bends dark-circled eyes, 
 A wan, struggling moon bursts the pale-faced skies, 
 And wavers and dims through the star-dipped 
 
 realm. 
 Like a stricken ship that has lost its helm. 
 
 [39] 
 
The wind was asleep, but it woke to-night, 
 
 And it slipped and it swayed and wrapped me 
 
 tight, 
 And it haunted my heart, till heart and soul 
 Were one with the silvery crescent's bowl. 
 
 [40] 
 
VI. 
 
 The sails of the sky are out-flung to the breeze, 
 And my thoughts are seared like the tortured seas. 
 And the ways of men and their canny lore 
 Are as dim to me as the Tropic's shore. 
 
 [41] 
 
GOD'S THRONE. 
 
 I thought I stood bareheaded 'fore the throne of 
 
 God. 
 The morning's dew and evening's depth were naught 
 
 beside 
 The greatening, dreaming peace that folded me 
 
 about. 
 And then those eyes, deep-felt, deep-wept, and yet 
 
 unseen, 
 Which judgment spoke, and set my trembling heart 
 
 aglow : 
 I knew I must be infinite, and yet unheard. 
 And so I waited, seeing my heart's life review 
 Itself in all its solemn errors, griefs, and acts. 
 Then came a voice from out the silenced whole, 
 
 that spoke 
 In accents — oh, so sweet and sad ! and wrung my 
 
 last 
 
 [42] 
 
Few tears away, unheeded. As in a far dream 
 I heard my once-time name pronounced, and then 
 
 a great 
 Burst of meaning, that chided not, nor judged, but 
 
 wept 
 Instead, and understanding so, all knowing so, 
 The life of human souls, wondered and wondered 
 
 e'en, 
 Not how ill we did, but that in face of Hving 
 We so well had come for rest at last, and then I 
 Knew that this indeed was God, and God's great 
 
 word to man — 
 To struggle and o'ercome within our utmost 
 
 powers. 
 But with fainting e'er to know that mercy leavens 
 Justice — that God lives with us, and must know 
 
 our ways, 
 Must see Temptation in its very quick, must feel 
 All human stress and pain, and so with pity, 
 Not with frowning brows, receive the final kneeler, 
 Prostrate 'fore the throne where sinners bow, and 
 
 saints are 
 
 [43] 
 
Made to men. And so I woke, and turned once 
 
 more to 
 See the image in my soul-world of my own best 
 Self, and knew that motive was more acting e'en 
 
 than deed. 
 That hunger, though it ne'er be satisfied, must 
 
 teach 
 Our Hmitations how to grow, and be that whole 
 Which Love produces, and alone can fructify. 
 
 [44] 
 
A THOUGHT. 
 
 The lights burn low in the broad, dim square, 
 While deep from the darkness faltering there, 
 The human wishings slowly out-creep, 
 All hungrily calling, seeking sleep. 
 
 And shadows lengthen, and sounds grow slight, 
 And wearied man seeks opiate night, 
 And the heart-free sky looks down and smiles 
 On the mortal will and mortal wiles. 
 
 [45] 
 
FIRELIGHT. 
 
 Dear — fold thy slight hands : let the light rest so 
 Upon thy waning face. Raise the dear eyes 
 And let their wist depths speak. The fire's glow 
 Hints all the pale of roses that arise 
 Out of thy cheeks and round thy shadowed lip — 
 Rest so — ne'er stir, until the flame's low wane 
 Sends back my heart that is a wasted ship — 
 Sends back my heart that calls in vain — in vain. 
 
 [46] 
 
DAY-BIRTH. 
 
 The shadowed night a-tiptoe spreads his wings, 
 And through the moon-wet branches sobs farewell. 
 The heaving earth in proud abandon flings 
 Her bounty forth, to drown the day-birth*s knell. 
 
 The deep-toned throats of birds burst with their song, 
 And tired stars creep back before light's thong, 
 And all the throes of toil and labored man 
 Find voice and echo in the dawning van — 
 The while Fate sits and laughs in waiting ease. 
 With careful eye the dearest prize to seize. 
 
 [47] 
 
"SO LONG AS THOU ABIDE.' 
 
 What matter if the days bring dearth, 
 What matter if all through the earth 
 The deepening knell of " finis " stride, 
 So long as thou, my Love, abide ! 
 
 What matter if life's faces dull, 
 What matter if Hope's echoes lull, 
 Or if, in passing, dreams must glide. 
 So long as thou, my Love, abide ! 
 
 And if in onward grmd of years, 
 My eyes must deeper fill with tears. 
 What matter if God's ends still hide — 
 Wilt thou not nearer, Love, abide ! 
 
 [4S] 
 
NOVEMBER. 
 
 A gray and bitter sky, 
 And from its peaked depths, 
 A moon with white, set face 
 And hollow, haggard eye. 
 
 An earth that autumn stains 
 With dying, heart-torn leaves. 
 With trees all ghastly bare. 
 And wand 'ring wind-birth's pains. 
 
 This is the world I see. 
 While winter's shadow looms. 
 And drowsy airs press chill 
 To Love's ne'er-stilling sea. 
 
 [49] 
 
THE GOAL. 
 
 Down in the muffled storehouse of the soul, 
 
 The bartered goals of my poor day I lay, 
 And pause in scorn 'fore the encompassed whole 
 
 Of empty words and idle, childish play. 
 For that which I did lightly dream to be. 
 
 It passed me by in rightful, mocking sport — 
 And that which was the imaged self I see. 
 
 It is not worthy of the battle fought. 
 
 C50] 
 
ELDORADO. 
 
 I walked upon a bridge of dreams, 
 Far away in the wild, dark night. 
 
 And they that saw me through moon's beams, 
 Shivered and hastened on in fright. 
 
 One asked — he was so great and tall. 
 With raven hair and deep-set eyes — 
 
 " Where go est thou, and what thy call 
 Beneath the weary, wasted skies? " 
 
 " I seek for One that I heard tell 
 Was perfect justice — perfect peace — 
 
 Canst say where shall I find, where quell 
 The brain-fires that will never cease ? ' ■ 
 
 But He of calm-souled eye and mouth 
 Laughed on in jest with all the rest, 
 [5X] 
 
" Fair Eldorado — far to south 
 It lies — on the horizon's breast 1 " 
 
 But though I wandered far and fast, 
 And questioned much with tireless zest, 
 
 My bridge of clouds lay torn at last, 
 Without one tiding of my quest. 
 
 [52] 
 
"TO GAIN A WORLD." 
 
 A word, a thought, 
 
 A breath of flowering plant; 
 A shade, a naught, 
 
 To wake life's sweetest chant; 
 A pause, a look, 
 
 A dream of golden lea ; 
 The Path forsook — 
 
 To gain a world — and thee ! 
 
 [53] 
 
NATURE'S CALDRON. 
 
 There is a caldron vast, down by the sea, 
 
 That Nature steeps her gorgeous colors in. 
 
 There Browning looked, and saw the wondrous lea 
 
 Where boiled such dawns as Pippa's worship win. 
 
 There Shakespeare peered, and mightily grew blind, 
 
 Till sun of Juliet's East arose and spread, 
 
 And heralded the play of Brutus' mind. 
 
 There gasped the lake-toned Wordsworth — gazed 
 
 and fled. 
 And left a wond'ring Shelley to unfold 
 A blaze of beauty — love and song and cloud. 
 Until the God-touched bursts Rossetti told 
 Sank 'fore the minor strains that Lowell shroud. 
 And once, when most the fumes of pitless blue 
 Hung shining through a sky-spun maze of gold. 
 And lily-hued the wave-crests welled and flew, 
 Goethe stole silent, and with thought-strokes bold, 
 [54] 
 
Unfurled a dream of Faustus and his art 
 That held the age in wonder, and gave birth 
 To peal on peal of plaudits from the heart 
 Of awestruck listeners all throughout the earth. 
 
 CSS] 
 
LOVE: AN ALLEGORY. 
 
 I sat one day in lonely thought. 
 
 A child passed by, by life-chance brought — 
 
 It stopped, and questioning, tears in eyes, 
 
 Like chilly rains, in springtime's skies, 
 
 Held forth a flower — crumpled, torn — 
 
 Of all its beauties ruthless shorn — 
 
 " Why does it die ? " lips drooping asked, 
 
 With wond'ring pain, the wee heart tasked — 
 
 I paused for answer — eyes still pled — 
 
 "God wills it so ! " was all I said. 
 
 [56] 
 
GLIMPSES. 
 1. 
 
 ENGLAND BETWEEN BOLTON ABBEY AND KETTLEWELL. 
 
 Green flooded, blue between, 
 Gold dipped, without a seam, 
 Fields heaving, flecked with sheep. 
 Mounts bending, where valleys peep — 
 Shadows passing, naught to tell. 
 Nature's daft workshop — all's well ! 
 Realms of cloudland, ripped and pressed 
 By the weight of heaven's breast, 
 Fainting arms spread out to clasp 
 Fleeting gleams forever past ; 
 Chariot ruts Apollo left, 
 Steeped in rainbow, cleft on cleft ; 
 Sad-eyed drift of coming cloud. 
 Wet wind rushing heavy-browed. 
 Stirring memory's tolling bell — 
 Sun has died — " to Kettlewell ! " 
 [57] 
 
YORKSHIRE MOUNTAINS, NEAR HAWES. 
 
 A far-dipping stretch of moorland, 
 
 Four mountains, and one peaked hill ; 
 Beyond, framed by a deep, green band, 
 
 A shadow — master-hands so spill ! 
 High up, black with birds, one lone tree ; 
 
 Heaven's heart-strings straining to earth, 
 Through the gold rays — no eye to see — 
 
 The eternal sob — Death's re-birth. 
 
 III. 
 
 NEAR WIGTON, CUMBERLAND. 
 
 Dull smoke of cloud-fires in the west, 
 A mount-top looming from their crest. 
 Its sides bespattered with the floods 
 Of bloody heather sprays and buds ; 
 A field high stacked with row on row 
 
 [58] 
 
Of filing oats, each bending low, 
 
 All waiting for the magic word 
 
 That's ever list for — never heard : 
 
 The word of wondrous varied tongue 
 
 From hills and vales and woods among. 
 
 To fill the air with songster's chime, 
 
 The heart-burst of an older time ; 
 
 The sighing of the rooted tree 
 
 That ever longs to upward flee ; 
 
 The shivering of the stately grass, 
 
 The mirrored thoughts of lake's pure glass, 
 
 The flower's homage to its love, 
 
 The mocking of the blue above. 
 
 The fury of imprisoned wind. 
 
 All screeching mouths for ages pinned. 
 
 The myriad voices ever stilled 
 
 To everlasting silence willed. 
 
 To pant for aye half understood — 
 
 Could I but talk — God knows I would. 
 
 [59] 
 
IV. 
 DERWENTWATER, KESWICK. 
 
 (Fragment.) 
 
 I saw a hill-slope dripping with heather 
 
 Spurts, the flowing wounds mixing together 
 
 In hollow dents ; I saw a cloud mid-air 
 
 Suspended ; I saw the inner lights where 
 
 Sunset waned ; I saw the bulrushes sway 
 
 And nod, like hoary gossips hearkened they 
 
 To tales told by the whispering wind ; I heard 
 
 The lulling splash of water, shore on-lured 
 
 By green, spread arms; I heard the awful fight 
 
 Of silence pressing down the pointed height ; 
 
 I felt the evening haze sink on the earth. 
 
 And mighty groans suppressed throughout its girth. 
 
 C6o] 
 
y, 
 
 KIRKSTONE PASS, NEAR AMBLESIDE. 
 
 Clear through the mist, head reared on high, 
 A pyramid, encompassed nigh 
 By rugged hills, by dripping fog. 
 And whitening 'gainst the yellowed bog, 
 A stream, down-pouring to the dale. 
 Stem Nature's primal wedding-veil ! 
 Barren slopes littered with debris, 
 Floods of carved rocks — a mighty sea, 
 While yonder, smoking in wet gear, 
 A lake-locked valley — Windermere ! 
 
 [6i] 
 
VI. 
 THIRLMERE LAKE, NEAR GRASMERE. 
 
 Just as though God had stooped down low, 
 And, smiling, scooped the hollowed bow. 
 And there, where rested the great hand. 
 Gushed the sweet water, earth enspanned. 
 
 [62] 
 
THE REAL. 
 
 So strange dreams to commingle so with real ! 
 
 Erstwhile the fantasy so visioned loomed, 
 And now to-day I clasp it in my hand, 
 
 And Hghtly hold the wish that seemed so 
 doomed. 
 
 It turns to be my daily shadowed mate, 
 
 Caressing me with strangely half-shown hopes, 
 
 And yet through all the wist-lipped fact and growth 
 I ever see the first-dreamt dawning slopes. 
 
 Is it because the Whole End never comes, 
 The Potter giving but the half-done vase. 
 
 And that no perfect joy can stand and wait, 
 But ever tear-stained flees in after-chase ? 
 
 I cannot answer this, and shun the guess. 
 
 I stretch my arms to hold the wondrous thing. 
 Will it abide and cleave to earthly shape ? 
 
 Nay, 'neath the sun's glow hides the shadow's 
 wing. 
 
 [63] 
 
THE WOOING. 
 
 The wind swayed the tree, 
 And sighed, "Pity me; 
 All the world's a-wooing." 
 
 The tree bent to kiss, 
 With no thought amiss, 
 Her heart in joy subduing. 
 
 But the wind it quaffed, 
 And then fleeing, laughed. 
 Left to its own undoing. 
 
 For woe to the one 
 That's too quickly won ! 
 For him there's no renewing. 
 
 [64] 
 
THE ALTAR GATE. 
 
 I cast my soul out in the dark, wild night, 
 To seek in bitter race its anguished mate ; 
 
 And then with fevered brow the pulseless I 
 Sits listening, listening at the altar gate. 
 
 But when at last, in torpid, gray-mouthed dawn. 
 The wasted dream comes helpless, Hmping back, 
 
 It cannot speak for wreck of mighty sobs 
 And lonesome wakenings from the perished track. 
 
 [65] 
 
THE PERFECT DAY. 
 
 One morn, far down amongst the flowers fair, 
 
 There bloomed a rose of scent and shape so rare 
 
 That ne'er its equal was in garden known. 
 
 On that same day a beauteous thought was sown, 
 
 Which, ripening, threw a halo 'round the brow 
 
 Of its possessor. At dusk in heaven's bow 
 
 A lustrous star was born, and twinkling forth 
 
 Waxed brighter ever, outshining all north. 
 
 South, east, or west. At midnight soft I dreamed, 
 
 And then a vision, alway perfect, seemed 
 
 To come, which bending, whispered, full of bliss, 
 
 And sealed " I love thee " with a kiss. 
 
 [66] 
 
THE FAR SEA. 
 
 Out, out beyond 
 
 Where no eyes see — 
 Where clouds respond, 
 
 There hides the key 
 To all this strife. 
 
 I sent my soul 
 To question life. 
 
 From out that whole 
 It never came. 
 
 I stand and wait, 
 But naught's the same — 
 
 The calms that sate, 
 The storms that blind. 
 
 The suns sink low, 
 The earth-bonds bind — 
 
 My soul must know ! 
 
 [67] 
 
THE LULLABY. 
 
 The dreaming night stirred in its sleep, 
 And moaned, and endless 'gan to weep, 
 And writhed with pain and heaving breast 
 As vainly, vainly seeking rest. 
 
 And piteous then, with watchful eye, 
 Earth rocked, and crooned a lullaby. 
 Until the fevered dream had fled, 
 And peering stars shone forth instead 
 
 Of blackened clouds and wrinkled brow, 
 And images of man that plough 
 Their weary way through dreams of night, 
 And waste its strength, and dull its might. 
 
 [68] 
 
NAMELESS. 
 
 Within my little room, 
 Where until long Life's doom 
 No sound dares enter in, 
 Where air is parched and thin, 
 Where barren couch and desk 
 Dreams' emptiness attest. 
 One day, as ill and worn, 
 I mused on hopes long gone, 
 Through frosted window-pane 
 A sun-ray bright and plain 
 Dropped to the cold-hued floor, 
 And wand'ring to the door 
 Waited for me to look. 
 Slowly I closed my book, — 
 Too slow, alas, for there, 
 Vanishing down the stair. 
 An outhned form I see, 
 But fast in flight, ah me ! 
 
 [69] 
 
IN THE FENWAY. 
 
 Way in the east 
 The evening waves begin, 
 
 Foaming and high 
 The surf-clouds roll and spin, 
 
 Hue upon hue 
 The mirrored windows take, 
 
 Threadlike and black 
 The trees sink to the lake, 
 
 Slow falls the air 
 With roar of silenced day, 
 
 Thoughts creep unfed, 
 The winds in surges play. 
 
 Deep in Life's heart 
 The ghosts of longings rise ; 
 
 Wist cords vibrate, 
 Blanched and drawn waste the skies. 
 
 Night lies adrift, 
 And wishes tiptoe spread, — 
 
 Say, when will Hope 
 Learn to bury its dead ! 
 [70] 
 
"EGO." 
 
 To bare my soul — 
 For what — for fame? 
 
 To play Fate's role 
 And reap heart's blame? 
 
 Nay, be life short, 
 
 'Tis far too long 
 To risk the Port, 
 
 And stain my song ! 
 
 God may see fit 
 To Bondage press, 
 
 But what of it? 
 / am no less I 
 
 [71] 
 
WEARINESS. 
 
 I sit at my window and gaze without 
 At the darkening strength of the world about, 
 And list to the restless sighs of the waves, 
 And the cricket's chant as he endless raves. 
 And mark where the sky shows blanching cheeks, 
 The horizon-Hne where the star-course leaks — 
 And peer at the lights till they seem to be 
 A part of the ocean and part of me. 
 
 n. 
 
 And then the trees, how they motionless stand, 
 Like the wonder-struck 'fore the promised land ; 
 And at last as I look and look again, 
 The '* weltschmerz " stirs, and its heart-woven pain, 
 And the calm is gone, and the peace has fled, 
 And weary I turn to my untouched bed — 
 For the stillness hurts, and the suffering sea 
 Has entered deep into the soul of me. 
 [72] 
 
SUN-GORGE. 
 
 Down where the nest of cloud-foam rests, 
 The sun in gorgeous sweeps of gold 
 
 Comes pourmg, rolling through the crests, 
 In lavish coinage untold. 
 
 And where the ooze most wanton drips. 
 Through rifts of passioned space and sky, 
 
 The reeling gorge heaves dark-stained lips, 
 And bhnds my sight — then turns to fly. 
 
 [73] 
 
CHOICE. 
 
 If out into the anchored bay, 
 
 That stagnant Hes 'neath star-mown dome, 
 My ship could steer in silent way, 
 
 I would not wish for such a home. 
 
 But out into the boundless blue, 
 That spanning flees, and ever grows, 
 
 There will I turn my rudder to, — 
 There will I face the tempest's woes. 
 
 [74] 
 
COMPENSATION. 
 
 I stood amongst a crowd one day, 
 All restless images of clay, 
 And oh, the lonesome ache that flew 
 And coursed in pain my being through ! 
 
 I stood one day at even-song. 
 And watched night's lashes drooping long. 
 And oh, the gladness in the thought, 
 That Nature understood unsought ! 
 
 [75] 
 
SURGE. 
 
 Night lies wind-seared and helpless all about, 
 Unfurling deep its thought-sails and its doubt, 
 Flapping life's problems in the face of sleep, 
 Wrecking all judgment, and heart's memory heap, 
 Sobbing that God may pour His seeming best, 
 Yet Love withholding cannot make life blest. 
 
 [76] 
 
"TELL, O SEA!" 
 
 Tell me, sea, in your restless might. 
 What is the shadow in the light ; 
 Tell me, sea, in your endless plaint. 
 What is the sinner in the saint ; 
 Tell me, sea, in your careless ease, 
 What is the heart-worm in the trees ; 
 Tell me, sea, in your voiceless deeps. 
 What is the Dream that pitying peeps ; 
 And tell, O sea, in whispered tones. 
 What the soul, and its stifled moans ! 
 
 [77] 
 
MOODS. 
 
 Like snowdrifts hurling, mound on mound, 
 
 Into the caverns of remotest sound, 
 
 E'er striving, pushing on to win. 
 
 All obstacles removing, out, within. 
 
 No quarter granting, all for self, 
 
 Like unto misers with ill-gotten pelf. 
 
 Storing at last the useless heap 
 
 In darkest doomsday, where the angels weep j 
 
 Too late for aught but harvest dank. 
 
 Of sin-fruits and of panting souls that sank. 
 
 [78] 
 
n. 
 
 One moment so, and e'en the next, 
 
 Like troubled waters by the storm gods vexed, 
 
 But gleaming peaceful through the might 
 
 Of earth and sun, comes change again, and sight 
 
 Of good. Like tranquil valleys sweet 
 
 In Nature's smiles, where mounts a-tiptoe meet 
 
 The bending skies, and yearning kiss 
 
 To life the rose hues of awakening bliss ; 
 
 Where streams flow on in dreaming rest, 
 
 And birds sing dim above, in loving blest ; 
 
 Where grass and flowers rejoice to live ; 
 
 Where men to men in hope their dues full give ; 
 
 Where insects' hum sole murmur reigns, 
 
 And God in mist arises from the plains ; 
 
 Whfle over all the earth broods great 
 
 Old Mother Nature caring for her mate. 
 
 [79] 
 
MYSTERY. 
 
 Wind- veined rise the ghosts of yesterday ; 
 Straining I pierce the gyres of haunted lay, 
 And see far out where swirls the empty space 
 A mighty shadow cross the Master's face. 
 Silent I peer and trace the moon-track, where 
 Nature, ript open, lays its mystery bare. 
 Where Love stands restive, poising with barred 
 
 shaft. 
 Where lab'ring fall the deeps of earth-womb's 
 
 craft — 
 There where the planets cower from their sun — 
 There where the dream and goal and sight are one. 
 
 [80] 
 
"LINES." 
 
 A breath of heaven on the ground, 
 
 There where the sun sways frenzied round ; 
 
 A burst of heaven in the air, 
 
 There where the leaves rush by and stare ; 
 
 A hint of heaven out beyond. 
 
 There where the sea cements shore's bond ; 
 
 But most of all from every part, 
 A whispered heaven in my heart I 
 
 I&J 
 
THE SNOW. 
 
 Dame Nature's hard heart was softened last night, 
 She pitied the earth in its ache and its care, 
 
 So she gently spread o'er the prostrate might 
 A cover of seamless " white wonder " there. 
 
 And lo ! in the morn, when in careless haste 
 The Sun from his glorious dreams arose, 
 
 The silent face of the purified waste 
 
 Smiled lost in peace through the gem-filtered 
 snows. 
 
 [82] 
 
THE GREATER I. 
 
 The Greater I sat down aghast. 
 
 " Is this," it said, " all that thou hast? 
 
 A tuneless world of careless words, 
 
 And deeds that lag in thoughtless herds ? " 
 
 " Nay, see," the Other in me cried, 
 
 "Thou shalt not so my days deride — 
 
 See, see, the things I wished to do. 
 
 The many dreams that fruitless grew. 
 
 Is it all naught, if that the night 
 
 Loomed ere the day had reached its height?" 
 
 Then laughed the Greater I that stood, 
 All trembling, like Love's babyhood, 
 And with strained breath, and deepening sighs, 
 Like harvesting of memoried sighs, 
 " Nay, dream, thou child, thou lesser part. 
 Nor wake through me to breathe life's smart ; 
 IS3I 
 
When thou shalt see how weak the trend 
 Endeavored, and how small the end ; 
 Then shalt thou learn the road thou walkst 
 Was other fair from that thou soughtst." 
 
 [84] 
 
RESPONSIBILITY. 
 
 The world is as we make it through and through, 
 
 The coloring that we give it old or new, 
 
 Is our day's passage on our varying mood, 
 
 Is our heart's answer to the day's hard food. 
 
 If peace attended night, sweet breathes the morn. 
 
 If sorrow deadened light, ah, how forlorn 
 
 The whole of nature turns, the bud and fruit, 
 
 Events of past or future fail to suit. 
 
 Life drags aweary, Faith sinks low in dread, 
 
 The hope of yesterday to-day lies dead ; 
 
 Man's waking memory is short at best, 
 
 And Satan endless laughs at human test ; 
 
 Man blames his God, his " Fate," Dame Nature, 
 
 Life, 
 His neighbor even, as the cause of strife. 
 Forgetting ever in himself to search 
 For moods, for thoughts, for words, or looks that 
 
 lurch 
 Unalteringly into a spreading act, 
 And that once writ, can will of man retract ? 
 [85] 
 
MIRAGE AT DUSK. 
 
 The dreaming pulling of the sheet of night, 
 The burnished deepening of the shrouding Hght, 
 The drunken swirl of Nature's great desires, 
 The human plaything that the gorge inspires. 
 The outlined dwellings of the brothered kin. 
 The heart-struck breast-wounds of the sky's cleft 
 
 ring, 
 The very silence and the unsolved pain, 
 The thought that we may never see again ! 
 
 [86] 
 
LONENESS. 
 
 The utter loneness of the human soul, 
 
 The wakening to the " einsamkeit " of life, 
 
 The knowledge that the God cannot console, — 
 This is the echo of the youthful strife. 
 
 n. 
 
 The fallen Cupid of forgotten dreams, 
 
 The piteous coldness of the cloaked mates, 
 
 The scanty warmth of fleeing moments' beams, • 
 This is the lip-contemptuous of "too lates." 
 
 ra. 
 
 The rush rebellious to be understood. 
 The panting angel of the higher I, 
 
 Reaction then, and shamefaced, impulsed good. 
 This is the course of age, and habits' dye. 
 
 [87] 
 
DECREED. 
 
 Love is rich and full and deep; 
 Love must climb where walls are steep; 
 Lives must yearn where hearts may peep; 
 Eyes must dry while souls still weep; 
 Self-seeds start the ashes-heap; 
 Man must look before he leap- 
 As he sows so shall he reap ! 
 
 I«0 
 
PROCRASTINATION. 
 
 The mind of man puts off the deed, 
 Waits, and demurs, and weighs the need, 
 Questions, self-answers, and decides. 
 Ne'er eager save where gain betides ; 
 Presses no suit without an end. 
 Shoves reasons forth that ill can mend, 
 Excuses prates to pass the "now," — 
 Action postponing for the " thou," — 
 Deceiver of itself to be. 
 Frightened by blind-eyed imagery, — 
 So shuts the door of man's best hope, — 
 " Do," the Redeemer, — ne'er to ope. 
 
 [89] 
 
NIGHT-PEACE. 
 
 Night, deep brooding in quiet content, 
 Guards over the Earth, to dreamland sent, 
 And the wind pours down in rustling ease, 
 Till the leaves, upturning to the breeze, 
 Show white-bared cheeks to the starless skyj 
 Where swelling clouds their business ply. 
 While the secret messengers of day 
 Hang voicelessly where the shadows play. 
 
 [90] 
 
TRANSITION. 
 
 Like a sparrow on the wing, 
 Like a dewdrop of the spring, 
 So soon gone ! 
 
 Like a pair of roguish eyes. 
 Like ambitions 'neath the skies, 
 So soon dull ! 
 
 Like a joy that's bom to-day. 
 Like a glistening sunbeam's ray, 
 So soon cold ! 
 
 Like a promise spoken soft, 
 Like a virtue tried too oft. 
 So soon void ! 
 
 Like a summer's golden hopes, 
 Like a struggling heart that opes. 
 So soon dead ! 
 
 Like a life that's bom to pain. 
 Like a soul that's striven in vain, 
 So soon lost ! 
 [91] 
 
FINIS. 
 
 The wind is pusliing through the broken air, 
 
 The stars are peering through the dark void there, 
 
 The locust's haunt is dying on the breeze, 
 
 The panting night is pressing through the trees. 
 
 The sea is quiet in its mighty pain, 
 
 And I have dreamt the old dream out again. 
 
 [92] 
 
7 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA LIBRARY