DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 A LYRICAL PAGEANT 
 
 BLISS CARMAN AND 
 MARY PERRY KING 
 
 UC-NRLF 
 
 $B lb? 3ST 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/daughtersofdawnlOOcarmrich 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 A LYRICAL PAGEANT 
 
 OR SERIES OF HISTORIC SCENES 
 
 FOR PRESENTATION WITH 
 
 MUSIC AND DANCING 
 
 BY 
 
 BLISS CARMAN AND 
 MARY PERRY KING 
 
 WITH FIFTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 '-'-What cannot he said can he sung^ 
 What cannot he sung can he danced r 
 
 ® 
 
 NEW YORK 
 MITCHELL KENNERLEY 
 
 1913 
 
Copyright I^IJ by 
 Mitchell Kennerley 
 
 The dramatic rights for acting and 
 reading of Daughters of Dawn^ to- 
 gether with its music, stage directions 
 and costume specifications for acting and 
 for reading, illustrated by tableaux 
 vivantSy may be had of the authors, 
 There are also lantern-slide illustra- 
 tions that may be used together with 
 music to accompany readings from the 
 Pageant, 
 
 Press of J. J. Little & Ives Company 
 
 East Twenty-fourth Street 
 
 New York 
 
TO HENRIETTA HOVEY 
 
 friTH HOMAGE AND AFFECTION 
 
 IN HAPPr APPRECIATION OF HER SERVICE 
 
 TO THE CAUSE OF ART 
 
 9 
 
 3 
 
 DS^ 
 
 
 259858 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 IN rereading one of Edward Carpenter's 
 wise books the other day I came upon 
 the following suggestive passages, which 
 express very well the thought underlying the 
 Daughters of Dawn: 
 
 "Far back out of the brows of Greek 
 goddess, and Sibyl, and Norse and Ger- 
 man seeress and prophetess, over all this 
 petty civilization look the grand untamed 
 eyes of a primal woman the equal and the 
 mate of man; and In sad plight should we 
 be If we might not already, lighting up 
 the horizon from East and West and 
 South and North, discern the answering 
 looks of those newcomers who, as the pe- 
 riod of women's enslavement Is passing 
 away, send glances of recognition across 
 the ages to their elder sisters." 
 
 **The Greek goddesses look down and 
 across the ages to the very outposts 
 beyond civilization; and already from 
 America, Australasia, Africa, Norway, 
 
 V 
 
VI INTRODUCTION 
 
 Russia, as even in our midst from those 
 who have crossed the border-line of all 
 class and caste, glance forth the features 
 of a grander type — fearless and untamed 
 — the primal merging into the future 
 Woman; who * * * -^m help us to 
 undo the bonds of death which encircle 
 the present society, and open the doors to 
 a new and a wider life." 
 
 Daughters of Dawn, literally written in 
 collaboration, was originally planned by Mrs. 
 King to serve as a series of studies in her 
 new educational movement, in which the three 
 rhythmic arts, poetry, music, and dancing, or 
 interpretive motion, are combined for artistic 
 and cultural purposes. Even if I had origi- 
 nated such a work and been rash enough to 
 begin it alone, I could not unaided have given 
 It anything like its present effectiveness, verac- 
 ity, and conciseness, nor many of the beauties 
 of thought and expression which I am glad to 
 think it possesses. As there appeared to be 
 no more appropriate name for dances or small 
 motion dramas of this sort, in which the in- 
 terpretation of the spoken verse is furthered 
 
INTRODUCTION VU 
 
 simultaneously by adapted music and rhythmic 
 motion which may or may not include dancing, 
 we have been calling them Rhythmics. 
 
 Of the great company of illustrious women 
 of the ages, many others might also have been 
 chosen for such a work. These Daughters of 
 Dawn were selected as typical chiefly of the 
 liberal and beneficent power of woman's na- 
 ture in her leadership and ascendancy in the 
 life of the spirit and the destiny of the world. 
 Selection was made of episodes lyrical rather 
 than dramatic in feeling and significance, as 
 most readily lending themselves to lyric treat- 
 ment in verse, music, and motion. 
 
 Our best thanks are due to friends for gen- 
 erous aid in creating the various roles — to 
 Miss Irmgard von Rottenthal for her poetic 
 study of Eve, to Miss Hedwig Reicher for her 
 masterly studies of Deborah and Balkis, to 
 Miss Mirzah Chesllr for her studies of Sappho 
 and a truly wonderful Mary, to Miss Ray 
 Cohen for her exquisite interpretation of Izeyl, 
 to Mrs. Bayard Redfield for her fine concep- 
 tion of Zenobia, to Miss Dorothy Dean for 
 her most adequate Jeanne d'Arc, and to Miss 
 
Vlll INTRODUCTION 
 
 Gertrude Lynch for her very gracious ren- 
 dering of Vittoria Colonna. Our grateful ac- 
 knowledgments belong also to Mr. B. J. Falk, 
 who brought the interest of an old friend and 
 the painstaking skill of an artist to the making 
 of the photographic studies from which the il- 
 lustrations are taken. 
 
 The writing of the various scenes, prologues, 
 and choruses, and the selection and arrange- 
 ment of the costumes, involved painstaking to 
 insure their historic accuracy and consistency, 
 so far as might be. In the different meters 
 used in the dialogues an attempt has been made 
 to secure in each case a verse form expression- 
 ally appropriate to the scene. These are but 
 working considerations, but they may prove of 
 service to students who may wish to use the 
 Pageant at any time. 
 
 B. C. 
 
 New Canaan, Connecticut, 
 October, 19 12. 
 
OPENING PROLOGUE 
 
 AND 
 
 CHORUS 
 
persons in the prologues and choruses 
 
 Time 
 A Poet 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 As the curtain rises on a front scene Time 
 and A Poet enter from the left. Time walks 
 a little in advance of his companion and moV' 
 ing toward the centre of the stage delivers the 
 prologue. 
 
 Opening Prologue 
 
 In the crystal sphere of time that swings 
 
 through space 
 All loveliness survives. Each ardent grace, 
 Joyance, and noble passion, leaves its trace 
 Imperishable there. 
 
 And he who gazes In that magic glass 
 May see the pageant of the ages pass, 
 Vivid and glad and glorious as It was, 
 In its great hours of flare. 
 
 In scarlet tatters and in webs of gold. 
 Heroic ecstasies and dramas old, 
 Their core of wisdom and high glamour hold, 
 To bid men choose and dare. 
 
4 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 PFith the conclusion of his speech, Time 
 passes on across the stage to exit at the right. 
 Music at once takes up the theme of the pro- 
 logue and leads iwto the theme of the lyric 
 chorus. As it ceases, the chorus follows, 
 spoken by the Poet, who does not move far 
 from his place of entrance. 
 
 Opening Chorus 
 
 Who are these who pass by 
 With victorious mien, 
 Deathless light in the eye, 
 Fadeless glory and sheen 
 In their mystical beauty and bearing;, their 
 power to bless or to ban? 
 
 These are they who aspired 
 And were wise in their day, 
 Daring all they desired 
 Through din and dismay. 
 To foster the hope and the vision, — their share 
 in the infinite plan. 
 
 They dreamed and endured 
 To bring gladness to birth. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 That joy might be lured 
 From the sorrow of earth, 
 For the making of ever new Edens, to perfect 
 what creation began. 
 
 They cherished the spark; 
 They protected the flame 
 From the winds and the dark; 
 To them the word came; 
 Their bodies were altars of love, and their 
 faith was the rapture of man. 
 
 Whether beauty and truth 
 Were the stars of their power. 
 Or the ardor of youth. 
 Or the pride of the hour, 
 They broldered the banners they followed, 
 while the sands of the hour-glass ran. 
 
 So from age unto age 
 Their beauty shall glow, 
 To brighten the page 
 Of earth's warfare and woe, 
 As the stars In the arches of heaven illumine 
 the darkness they span. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 At the conclusion of this chorus the Poet 
 retires, and music follows with a glorifica- 
 tion of the general theme of the Pageant. 
 
 The same procedure is followed at the be- 
 ginning of the various scenes. Time speaking 
 the prologues, and the Poet reciting the lyric 
 choruses, — with only this difference, that at the 
 close of each chorus the curtain rises immedi- 
 ately, disclosing a realization of the Poet's vi- 
 sion, while the speaker makes his exit with eyes 
 on the scene or remains half -concealed near 
 his place of entrance, as an onlooker. 
 
t 
 
 EVE 
 
persons in the scene 
 
 . Eve 
 Adam 
 
'>c c r f ; *. 
 
 c i Sc c 
 
 '*'^'' '^.A/^ . / 
 
 EVE 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 EVE 
 
 Prologue 
 
 Lone in the strangeness of a dim new world, 
 Untutored, unbefrlended, alien, man 
 Moved to his destiny of perilous power 
 Between his ecstasies of hope and fear. 
 And wonder was upon him, and desire. 
 
 His strength was spent on rock and tree in 
 
 vain ; 
 His running reached no goal but loneliness; 
 Silent derision waited on his toll; 
 And ever the world-sorrow bore him down, 
 His great heart beaten by futility. 
 
 Then on a morning after monstrous storm, 
 A spirit whispered through the great dumb 
 
 blue, 
 And there emerged among the gentle hills, 
 Loving, humane, mysterious, the form 
 Of beauty made in likeness of his dream. 
 
 Music 
 
lo daughters of dawn 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Who IS this ardor-paled 
 O'er her blood's coral stain, 
 Veiled as mountains are veiled 
 In a mist of blue rain? 
 She is fair as the great winter moonlight, and 
 frail as Aprlllan flowers. 
 
 In her eyes there are gleams 
 Of the sun and the sea. 
 And unfathomed dreams 
 Of the ages to be ; 
 Her beauty and wind-shod exulting take little 
 account of the hours. 
 
 She moves like the drifts 
 Of fog on the tide. 
 Or the faint smoke that lifts 
 From the purple hillside ; 
 And men at her beauty shall wonder, while 
 wonder and beauty abide. 
 
 She fears not the portal 
 Of life nor of death; 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN II 
 
 She is tender and mortal 
 And subtle as breath; 
 And her voice Is the call of the ages that quick- 
 ens this substance of ours. 
 
 Her love is a thing 
 Without hate or regret, 
 Yet In twilights of spring 
 Will her eyelids be wet 
 With strange immemorial sorrow. She is Eve 
 of the mystical powers. 
 
 A wooded glade in Paradise. A running 
 stream through a meadow. The sea line in the 
 distance. Birds, butterflies, flowers, and crea- 
 tures. Morning sunlight. Eve appears among 
 the trees, and accompanies her soliloquy with 
 primitive expressive motion. At its close Adam 
 is seen through the trees, and speaks. 
 
 Eve 
 
 Dear life I Earth and sun and sea-line I 
 Shadowy woods and shining river! 
 Flowers and meadows fresh with morning, 
 Calling birds that sway and flutter, 
 Soaring glad and free I 
 
12 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 What Is all this wonder round me, 
 With Its ravishing enchantment? 
 The leaves whisper; the grey water 
 Murmurs to the blue day; all things 
 Promise more and more. 
 
 And this mist of gold about me? 
 
 Running and seeing her reflection in the 
 
 stream 
 I am swift . . . and light . . . and comely. 
 Like the birds, I call. Come, wander 
 Like the creatures I What am I, and 
 
 What are these to me? 
 
 Lovely sun, shine warm upon me ! 
 Unseen wind, come and caress me ! 
 Good earth, kiss my feet and take me 
 On long journeys, day and night-time, 
 Gladly everywhere. 
 
 Nothing answers to my calling! 
 Nothing solaces my longing! 
 Why are all things unresponding? 
 Why Is all my being lonely? 
 Is this Paradise? 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 1 3 
 
 Through the shadows there's a shadow 
 Coming. Through the trees I see him . . . 
 Like me . . . stronger! Ah, his presence 
 Makes me gladder, gladder, gladder . . . 
 What am I to thee? 
 
 Adam 
 Have I not imaged thy face 
 Out of the sunrise and dreams? 
 Have I not sought thy trace. 
 Through the spring woods and streams? 
 The print in the vanishing dew, 
 The call that died on the air, 
 Lured me ever anew, 
 But never thyself was there. 
 
 I stretched forth hands to the sun, 
 
 I breathed my prayer through the rain, 
 
 I called to the clouds that run; 
 
 They answered me not again. 
 
 I have heard at the world's far edge 
 
 The great winds boom and moan; 
 
 I have harked to the whispering sedge; 
 
 But they spoke in a tongue unknown. 
 
 And ever the throbbing ache 
 Beat in my throat and side,: — 
 
14 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 The hunger I could not slake, 
 The craving that would not bide ; 
 And ever the gleaming choice 
 Drew me forth on the trail, 
 Where never a kindred voice 
 Answered my desolate hail. 
 
 Thy glistening bosom swells 
 
 In the light of thy wondrous hair, 
 
 Like a sunlit hilltop that tells 
 
 The watcher day is there. 
 
 The croon of thy voice like the wind, 
 
 The sway of thy body like fire. 
 
 The glory of man shall bind 
 
 To the soul of thy desire. 
 
 Here let the sun stand still, 
 The wandering stream be stayed, 
 The shadow rest on the hill, 
 The wind play low in the glade I 
 For I have found Paradise, 
 And dread has lost its power. 
 Here let the great moon rise 
 On an enchanted hour ! 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
II 
 
 DEBORAH 
 Twelfth Century B. C. 
 
PERSONS IN THE SCENE 
 
 Deborah 
 
 Barak 
 
 Captains and Chief Men of Israel 
 
AND GOD SAID, *I HAVE SEEN THE 
 OPPRESSION'" 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 17 
 
 DEBORAH 
 
 Prologue 
 
 The ages pass, and with enormous wars, 
 Sorrows and triumphs and enduring toll, 
 The earth-child Man puts off his savagery, 
 And with the growing wisdom of the earth 
 Learns law and artistry and paths to power. 
 
 He builds In Egypt mammoth pyramids; 
 
 In Babylon his gilded temples rise; 
 
 Till strength and beauty fill his heart with 
 
 pride. 
 Then comes a nomad people with their tents, 
 Dreamers and wanderers with flocks and herds. 
 
 Captive, oppressed, arrogant and unsubdued, 
 Forever cherishing their racial dream. 
 Out of the desert, seeking pasturage. 
 To the rich valleys of the West they come, — 
 The tribes of Israel to their promised land. 
 
 Music 
 
1 8 daughters of dawn 
 
 Chorus 
 
 What prophetess stands, 
 With God's fire in her eyes 
 And His love in her hands, 
 As she signals and cries 
 The word that shall summon her people to 
 turn back a tyrannous might? 
 
 In beauty austere, 
 With her hood half withdrawn. 
 She is straight as a spear. 
 Or a shaft of the dawn. 
 When it flushes the cedars of Kedron, and 
 floods the dark valleys with light. 
 
 Her voice has the spell 
 Of the wind and the rain. 
 She sways with the swell 
 Of the ripe-breasted grain. 
 When summer is red in the valleys and his 
 fervors are fierce on the plain. 
 
 To the South and the North, 
 Fleet runners light-shod 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 1 9 
 
 At her bidding went forth 
 With the war-cry of God 
 That should kindle the hearts of the tribes as 
 a watch-fire kindles the night. 
 
 Let princes give heed 
 And their kingdoms make way, 
 When a woman at need 
 Goes down to the fray! 
 For Deborah, rousing a nation, the God of her 
 fathers will fight. 
 
 Outside the tent of Deborah in Mount 
 Ephraim between Ramah and Bethel. A run- 
 ning brook is near by. Other tents and distant 
 hills are seen. Deborah stands under a palm 
 tree in front of her door; before her, chief men 
 of Israel, including Barak the son of Abinoam 
 from Kedesh-N aphtali in the North, 
 
 Deborah 
 
 O captains and chiefs of Zebulon, 
 And rulers of Naphtall, hear! 
 And Barak son of Abinoam, 
 Thou warrior-leader, draw near! 
 
20 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 What the Lord God of Israel speaketh 
 By the palm tree In Ramah this day, 
 By the mouth of Deborah His servant, 
 lYe shall hearken unto and obey. 
 
 For the voice of the Lord in the morning, 
 Before the first sun took the dew 
 From the valleys and ridges of Hermon, — 
 While the peaks of the East were still 
 
 blue, — 
 Came to me, as I stood In the tent-door 
 Thinking on Israel's wrong. 
 And God said, "I have seen the oppression. 
 But behold, it shall not be for long. 
 
 *'Send thou to Kedesh for Barak, 
 
 And bid him unsheath the sword 
 
 Against the outrage of Jabln. 
 
 And I will prosper my word." 
 
 Who halted the sun over Gibeon, 
 
 The moon above Ajalon's plain? 
 
 Who strengthened the ox-goad of Shamgar, 
 
 By whom the six hundred were slain? 
 
 So shall ye prevail against evil. 
 Their chariots of Iron shall flee. 
 
DEBORAH 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 21 
 
 The floods shall break them in pieces 
 
 And roll them into the sea. 
 
 The vineyards and fields of these Gentiles 
 
 Shall be added unto your lands, 
 
 For the stars In their courses shall aid you 
 
 And deliver them into your hands. 
 
 Go, get you up to the mountains, 
 Let ten thousand follow your feet. 
 And I will make ready the captive, 
 For the day Is at hand. Be fleet. 
 
 There is a star in the crowd, 
 O Barak, who makest the torches 
 In the temple at Shiloh to shine, 
 Wilt thou not carry the fire 
 To free thy people and mine? 
 
 Have I stood here for judgment and council 
 
 And prophesied truly, in vain? 
 
 Are my words but as wind of the desert, 
 
 My talk but as running of rain? 
 
 Is there none to accomplish my vision? 
 
 Is there none to believe what I see? 
 
 Am I a babbler of Baal? 
 
 O Barak, what am I to thee? 
 
22 daughters of dawn 
 
 Barak 
 
 O Deborah, for judgment 
 The tribes come up to thee, 
 The tents all know thy wisdom 
 From Jordan to the sea. 
 In the hills thy name is spoken, 
 By the rivers It Is heard. 
 The captains seek thy counsel, 
 The wayward heed thy word. 
 
 And when I set the torches 
 To light the Holy Place, 
 They pale as I remember 
 The glory of thy face. 
 But three days since at sunrise 
 Did thy messenger draw nigh 
 Breathless before the doorway, 
 To seek me. Here am I. 
 
 In the light of this thy counsel, 
 What shall thy servant do. 
 But carry the dread summons 
 To raise the tribes anew? 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 23 
 
 As thy soul lives, among them 
 The word of God shall pass, 
 As fire among the stubble. 
 As wind among the grass, 
 
 Only if thou go with me I 
 Else here I will abide. 
 I have nor hope nor portion 
 That Is not by thy side. 
 Mine Is the strength to conquer, 
 And mine the skill of hand. 
 But not the inward knowledge 
 To see and understand. 
 
 Then take thy staff and mantle. 
 Make fast thy sandal-thong, 
 For thou shalt teach me wisdom. 
 And I will make thee strong. 
 Deborah makes a sign of assent. 
 O peerless among women. 
 There is no other way 
 Since God In the beginning 
 Breathed spirit into clay. 
 
 Here a religious dance begins. The multi- 
 tude grows, and forms behind Deborah and 
 Barak for final exit. 
 
24 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 So go we up before Him 
 To the hills, ten thousand strong 
 And I will lead the fighting, 
 And thou shalt lift the song. 
 The ages shall remember, 
 When we are plunged in night, 
 How Deborah and Barak 
 Did battle for the Light. 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
Ill 
 
 BALKIS 
 Tenth Century B. C. 
 
PERSONS IN THE SCENE 
 
 Balkis, Queen of Sheba 
 Solomon, King of Israel 
 Musicians and Attendants 
 
 26 
 
ec • • _ • i • / 
 » » • c , c ,» • • 
 
 BALKIS 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 27 
 
 BALKIS 
 
 Prologue 
 
 Egypt, Assyria, Chaldaea pass 
 
 Across the world's great stage from dark to 
 
 dark. 
 With sound of drum and flash of marching 
 
 spears, 
 Amid the stumbling outcries of the poor. 
 And all the splendid pomp of barbarous kings ; 
 
 While Israel, cleaving to her lofty faith 
 In one pure God of justice and of right. 
 Is scorned and driven on, beaten and bruised 
 Under the harrow of the conqueror's hate; 
 Through centuries of carnage, lust, and gloom. 
 
 Till from that turmoil, as from evil dreams, 
 In Judah rose a king, humanely wise 
 Above all men. And Rulers of the Dusk, 
 In their far countries hearing of the Light, 
 Up to Jerusalem In wonder came. 
 
 Music 
 
28 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Chorus 
 
 In crimson and gold 
 By the ivory throne, 
 Who IS she who makes bold, 
 With a pride all her own, 
 To prove with hard questions the wisdom that 
 fame has made first in the land? 
 
 As the twelve lions gaze 
 And the thurifers swing. 
 She stands in amaze 
 Before the great king. 
 And her strength is as water, beholding his 
 splendor and knowledge expand. 
 
 Her walk has the sway 
 Of a sea in the wind, — 
 The strong supple play 
 Of a panther of Ind, — 
 The magic of might is about her; her sorcery 
 who shall withstand! 
 
 By the long camel trains 
 Bearing gifts above price. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 29 
 
 All the wealth of the plains, 
 Silver, algum and spice. 
 And purple and gold without measure, and 
 peacocks, and pearls by the strand, — 
 
 By her garments all bright. 
 By her gems from Kanaugh, 
 Her luxurious height. 
 And her swarthy low brow. 
 It IS Balkis, dark Queen of Sheba. By the 
 ring it is Solomon's hand. 
 
 Wooded grounds outside of Solomon's pal- 
 ace. The Queen of Sheba*s musicians and at- 
 tendants enter playing, walking backward. 
 As Balkis enters from the palace, after her 
 meeting with Solomon, she beckons them im- 
 patiently to precede her. They go of quickly, 
 leaving her alone. 
 
 Balkis 
 
 King, I, Balkis, Queen of Sheba, came to greet 
 
 thee from afar, — 
 Feel thy sway and know thy wisdom and thy 
 
 splendor as they are. 
 
30 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 All the unmatched wealth and glory of thy 
 
 House I would behold; 
 And I brought thee royal treasure, gems and 
 
 frankincense and gold. 
 
 But an overpowering grandeur and a strange 
 unearthly lore 
 
 That surround thee, have undone me with a 
 spell unknown before. 
 
 Whence are they? And how should any mor- 
 tal being so outshine 
 
 Pomp and pride and power of armies — all 
 earth's riches — his or mine? 
 
 Where Is all my strong assurance which the 
 
 desert knew in fear? 
 What befell my proven knowledge keen as a 
 
 dividing spear? 
 Am I a fond girl before him, hand to tremble, 
 
 cheek to pale. 
 That his speech should shake my heartstrings 
 
 like a palm grove In a gale? 
 
 Great Earth, give me back my courage I Desert 
 
 wind and sun, renew 
 The wild strength of heart that made me as 
 
 unquestioning as you I 
 
GREATKING. WHAT AM I TO THEE?' 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 3 1 
 
 Has that sorcery departed, with Its soft relent- 
 less skill, 
 
 That could sway the blood of princes till they 
 bowed before my will? 
 
 No more I For my tyranny Is vanquished. All 
 I was, is naught. 
 
 Like the play of pampered children seem the 
 ends for which I wrought. 
 
 All my trappings and my triumphs are as fag- 
 gots without flame. 
 
 Like a road from night to morning seems the 
 way by which I came. 
 
 Life beyond me, take my homage, as the sun 
 
 drinks from the stream! 
 Light of God beyond my learning, teach one 
 
 who has caught thy gleam I 
 As the day consumes the desert, as the strong 
 
 wind bends the tree. 
 Lord of Light, thou hast enslaved me ! Great 
 
 King I What am I to thee ? 
 
 Balkis goes out slowly following after her 
 train of attendants and retainers. As she dis- 
 appears, palace music is heard and Solomon's 
 musicians enter playing, walking backward. 
 
32 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 The King enters speaking, and dismisses his 
 attendants with a gesture, 
 
 Solomon 
 
 Balkis, Queen of thy kind, I must find thee 
 
 again. 
 
 1 have sought in the sound of the flute and the 
 
 harpstring In vain 
 The enchantment that lurks in thy voice for the 
 
 stirring of man! 
 No fire of gems like thine eyes, no dye like thy 
 
 tan I 
 
 What gives thee thy lustre, like amber aglow 
 with old wine? 
 
 What perfume of cedar, of sunshine and sum- 
 mer is thine? 
 
 The palpitant sense of thy presence is still on 
 the air. 
 
 My fir-trees have caught the blue shadows that 
 lurk in thy hair. 
 
 Who taught thee that sibylline quiet which 
 
 teases my power. 
 As the strength of soft winds the ocean uplifts 
 
 in an hour? 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 33 
 
 Thy leonine courage, thy query that throbs to 
 
 the mark, 
 Are fires of new revelation, enkindling the dark. 
 
 Thy gifts hold the glamour of giving that 
 
 dwells in thy hand; 
 Thy tribute no kingship could merit; stay thou 
 
 In our land! 
 My realm Is a desert without thee to set it 
 
 abloom ; 
 My skill is but dull, since It caught not thy wit 
 
 in Its loom. 
 
 Come, give me thine ardor that leaps from the 
 
 lip to the heart I 
 Come, teach me the tremor of eyelids where 
 
 tears wait to start I 
 Come, tell me the word that was spoken when 
 
 Lucifer fell! 
 There is naught at the source of dominion thou 
 
 knowest not well. 
 
 At the end of his soliloquy Solomon goes 
 out, following the direction taken by Balkis. 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
IV 
 
 SAPPHO 
 
 Sixth Century B. C. 
 
PERSONS IN THE SCENE 
 
 Sappho 
 
 Phaon 
 
 Atthis 
 
 Anactoria 
 
 Gyrinna 
 
 GORGO 
 DiCA 
 
 Telesippa 
 
 Mnasidica 
 
 Myrto 
 
 Lais 
 
 Myrtocleia 
 
 Bacchis 
 
 Chrysis 
 
 Friends of Sappho 
 
'' c c"^ r '-," ' c .«! t'-'c "r* 
 
 SAPPHO 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 37 
 
 SAPPHO 
 
 Prologue 
 
 While Israel cringed to dread Omnipotence, 
 And dwelt In fear of the unspoken name; 
 While priests of Egypt pondered on the past, 
 And Nineveh was sinking to her doom; 
 The day was spreading on the iEgean sea, 
 
 Where white-sailed Tyrlan coasters plied with 
 
 trade, 
 And glad young Hellas hailed the wakening 
 
 light. 
 There beyond marble cliffs where jonquils 
 
 grew. 
 Were rosy porticos and temples dim 
 With mellow Ivory and dusky gold. 
 
 Her gardens odorous with hyacinth. 
 Her river-beds ablaze with pomegranate. 
 Her groves of laurel spreading In the sun, — ? 
 There like a tulip where the flame of life 
 Burns quick and clear, bloomed Lesbos of the 
 Isles. 
 
 Music 
 
38 daughters of dawn 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Who IS this with life-thirst 
 In her luminous eyes, — 
 Whose rapture unnursed 
 Burns quickly and dies, 
 As the dew burned away from the morning 
 leaves only the color and fire? 
 
 She is vibrant and warm 
 As a meadow at noon; 
 She Is lonely as storm, 
 Or the cloud-salllng moon; 
 She is glad as new friendship unbroken, and 
 sad as old loves that expire. 
 
 She Is swift as a thrush, 
 The noiseless of wing, 
 When the damp woodlands gush 
 With his lyric of spring. 
 She dances like small meadow rivers that run 
 through the twilight and sing. 
 
 This is Sappho. Men gave 
 To new-minted gold 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 39 
 
 Her image to save 
 For the peoples untold, 
 That her beauty might ever companion the 
 echoing chords of her lyre. 
 
 Though all lovely things 
 To the dust shall be traced, 
 And the names of great kings 
 From their tombs be effaced. 
 Her name shall be fresh through the ages as 
 Spring rains on the ruins of Tyre. 
 
 The garden of Sappho's house in Lesbos^ 
 with marble benches, a green space, borders of 
 daffodils, hyacinths, violets and other spring 
 flowers. The sea and the harbor of Mytilene 
 in the distance. A wall at the foot of the gar- 
 den, with a gate into the street. The house is 
 of white marble, with a low doorstep on a level 
 with the ground. It is afternoon. 
 
 Enter from another pant of the garden 
 Atthis, Anactoria, Gyrinna, Gorgo, Dica, 
 Telesippa, Mnasidica, Myrto, Lais, Myr- 
 TOCLEiA, BAcchis, and Chrysis, friends of 
 Sappho. 
 
40 daughters of dawn 
 
 Anactoria 
 How warm the new sun is I 
 
 Chrysis 
 
 Surely it is full time 
 To honor our Adonis I 
 
 Dica 
 
 Where is Sappho? 
 
 Atthis 
 
 Sappho I 
 
 They all call in unison. 
 
 Sappho ! Sappho ! Sappho ! 
 
 Enter Sappho from the house. 
 
 Sappho 
 
 Sweet friends! Has the sunshine 
 Lit thoughts of Adonis 
 In your lovely heads? 
 
 Bring thy lute, Gyrlnna! 
 Dica, bring thy garlands ! 
 And thy golden jonquils, 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 4 1 
 
 Chrysis I Myrtoclela, 
 Dance here at my left hand I 
 Thou here, dearest Atthlsl 
 Myrto shall be chorus, 
 With her silver voice. 
 
 Anactorla, thou 
 Ardentest of lovers — 
 
 (Anactoria embraces her) 
 Thy sweet call would waken 
 The sleepiest Adonis! 
 Oh, these happy hours 
 Of the spring In Lesbos! 
 Surely he must harken 
 To our chorus now. 
 They dance, joining in the refrain of Myrto's 
 Hymn to Adonis. 
 
 Now the winter Is gone by. 
 And the swallow builds again, 
 
 (Lovely Adonis!) 
 Now the quickening sun is warm, 
 And the wind Is soft with rain. 
 
 (Lovely Adonis!) 
 
42 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Now the waking earth is sweet 
 With the scent of purple flowers. 
 
 (Thou sweet Adonis!) 
 All the buds are opening wide, 
 Wasting through the golden hours. 
 
 (Thou fond Adonis!) 
 
 Now the nightingales are come, 
 With their piercing flutes of gold; 
 
 (Beloved Adonis!) 
 And thy lovers cry to thee, 
 In their passion, as of old. 
 
 (Cruel Adonis!) 
 
 Call him back across the years I 
 He is fairer than the day. 
 
 (Hear us, Adonis!) 
 Love, ah, love, — Is anything 
 Half so sweet, for all men say? 
 
 (Harken, Adonis!) 
 
 Fling his robe of frost aside. 
 And his bands of sleep unbind I 
 (Waken, Adonis!) 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 43 
 
 Were they lovelier long ago, 
 Those who loved thee — or more kind? 
 (Love us, Adonis I) 
 
 Cherish him with tender fire 
 In the woodlands of the spring, 
 
 (Deathless Adonis I) 
 And with him assuage desire. 
 Ah, Is love so fleet a thing? 
 
 (Lovely Adonis I) 
 
 Street music is heard. 
 
 Chrysis 
 
 Hark, a tambourine I 
 
 Atthis 
 
 The street musicians I 
 
 Anactoria 
 
 That's the boy from NaxosI O the darling I 
 Do you love him, DIca, — or the dark one 
 With the captive woodbird? He Is thine. 
 
 Chrysis 
 They are moving on now. 
 
44 daughters of dawn 
 
 Anactoria 
 
 Let us follow I 
 
 They run of, laughing. When they are gone, 
 Sappho sits on a bench, beginning to be 
 sad. The afternoon is waning, 
 
 Sappho 
 
 Ah, me ! . . . May Adonis 
 
 Find them! . . . This soft spring wind 
 
 Makes my fillet heavy. 
 
 She loosens her hair. 
 Thou dear swallow flashing 
 Over Mytllene, 
 Art thou never weary 
 All the blinding day long 
 In our Northern blue? 
 
 She sings 
 
 If death be good, 
 
 Why do the gods not die ? 
 
 If life be ill, 
 
 Why do the gods still live ? 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 45 
 
 If love be naught, 
 
 Why do the gods still love ? 
 
 If love be all, 
 
 What should men do but love? 
 
 What a thing Is woman 
 In this world! All music, 
 Ecstasy, and dreaming. 
 With her gems and garlands. 
 Gauze and gold! All dancing, 
 And bright laughter, bubbling 
 Like a silver fountain 
 Out of the dark earth I 
 
 And her friendships, — stories 
 Told to amuse children I 
 Shadows that fly seaward I 
 All the while her heart aches 
 Only with one longing. 
 One demand . . . O Phaon, 
 Thou art so long absent 
 From this empty world I 
 
 In just such lovely weather 
 He would come with evening. 
 To sit here all happy . . . 
 
46 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 I could hear him far off 
 
 In the fragrant twilight, 
 
 {A flute is heard in the distance) 
 
 Ere he crossed the meadow. 
 
 The playing grows more distinct. 
 
 O, praise Aphrodite! 
 
 Phaon! 
 
 Enter Phaon. 
 
 Phaon ! Phaon I 
 What am I to thee? 
 
 Phaon 
 O my Sappho I Heart of gladness, 
 What should thy soul do with sorrow? 
 See, I bring thee gems from Egypt, 
 Phrygian linen white as sea-foam, 
 
 Scarlet cloth from Tyre; 
 Eastern perfumes, and a girdle 
 Of wrought gold from ancient Sidon. 
 Not a port but has paid tribute 
 To thy beauty, in the sea-bales 
 
 They unlade for thee. 
 
 Sappho 
 Only one gift have the high gods given 
 To man, Phaon, without stint or question, 
 As my heart knows, — love. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 47 
 
 Thou art all my Egypt and my SIdon. 
 Earth and sea have paid me their full tribute, 
 If thou love me still. 
 
 Phaon 
 
 Sappho, not an isle from Rhodes to Imbros, 
 Not a pine-dark headland where the foam 
 
 breaks, 
 But has heard the prayers and eager vows I 
 
 whispered 
 Day and night for thee. 
 
 When I walked through splendid sunlit cities, 
 My lone heart was traversing a desert, 
 And the murmuring throngs were but as mov- 
 ing sand-drifts, 
 Sappho, without thee. 
 
 Nevermore, till the dread hour shall part us, 
 May I be beyond thy call, thy hand-touch I 
 Thou art all about me like the sweet dusk 
 wheeling 
 Up from the great sea. 
 
 They go into the house. Night is falling. 
 Curtain and Music 
 
V 
 
 IZEYL 
 Fifth Century B. C. 
 
 49 
 
PERSONS IN THE SCENE 
 IZEYL 
 
 Buddha 
 
 A Man-servant of Izeyl 
 
 Two Disciples of Buddha. 
 
 Attendants and House Servants of Izeyl 
 
 50 
 
IZEYL 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 5 1 
 
 IZEYL 
 
 Prologue 
 
 The Himalayas, Dwellings of the Snow, 
 Look down on all the fertile Ganges plain, 
 Where, spreading like a flood from high Pamir 
 Seeking new land, the Aryan drift went by, 
 Singing glad Vedas while the world was young. 
 
 Then rose the priestly Brahman over them 
 With bonds of caste, stern ritual and rule, 
 The sterile rites and dull formalities. 
 That would enslave the incarnate soul of man 
 And blight the progress of a growing world. 
 
 Here, having pity for the plight of men 
 
 And all their futile agonies of life. 
 
 Came Buddha, the Enlightened in the Way, 
 
 Preaching Renunciation of Desire, 
 
 The only surety of an earthly peace. 
 
 Music 
 
52 daughters of dawn 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Who stands In the dusk 
 Of the courtesan's square, 
 With an odor of musk 
 In her bosom and hair, 
 With anklets of turquoise and silver that clink 
 for the passer to hear? 
 
 Mysterious as night, 
 With her hot scarlet mouth, 
 And a glittering light 
 In those eyes of the South, 
 As if all of her exquisite being had never one 
 hunger to fear! 
 
 She moves like the smoke. 
 As it swoons on still air. 
 When the censers evoke 
 Old gods from their lair; 
 The sway of her body is music more madden- 
 ing than incense or prayer. 
 
 The desire of the heart. 
 The delight of the eye, 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 53 
 
 She knows not apart, 
 To forego nor deny, 
 For love Is the sum of her being, and beauty Is 
 all of her gear. 
 
 Ah, fear her not I Hers 
 
 Is that passion of soul 
 Which no height deters, 
 No terrors control, — 
 Izeyl, the enamored of Buddha, who waits for 
 her god to draw near. 
 
 The courtyard in front of Izeyl's house in 
 the Deer Forest north of Benares. A large 
 rug is spread iri the centre of the court, a low 
 divan at one side, with small tables or benches 
 near it. On the opposite side, a wall and gate- 
 way, the main entrance to the grounds. It is 
 moonlight. Servants enter carrying silver 
 dishes of rice, fruits, and confections, basins 
 and jugs of water, towels, etc, and set them 
 down on the tables and the ground. Izeyl with 
 two attendants enters from the house. 
 
54 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 IZEYL 
 
 Make all ready. Let there be nothing lacking 
 
 nor amiss. 
 Though we have had many guests, there was 
 
 never one like this. 
 A man servant enters from the gate, followed 
 
 by Buddha and two disciples who ap- 
 proach and how to Izeyl. 
 Welcome, O enlightened one, to this house. A 
 
 happy day 
 Brings thy footsteps to my door, bids thee tarry 
 
 on thy way. 
 Lets me serve thee. That my lord's heart with 
 
 gladness may be free, 
 Rest here in the perfumed dusk of the roses 
 
 strewn for thee. 
 
 Buddha 
 
 Thy words are lavish as the wayside stars, 
 Shedding their bounty for the pilgrim night. 
 No goodlier seeds than kindness come to blos- 
 som 
 In this great world to be faint heart's delight. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 55 
 
 Servants wait upon Buddha, remove his san- 
 dals, wash the dust from his feet, offer him 
 food and drink. He takes a cup of water, 
 but declines to eat. His disciples withdraw 
 to a distant part of the court. The serv- 
 ants go out, except Izeyl's two personal at- 
 tendants, who stand hack by the house 
 door. 
 
 IZEYL 
 
 Sit, Lord. I will dance for thee. Here until 
 the moon grows pale 
 
 Thou shalt be the worshipped one, I thy wor- 
 shipper Izeyl. 
 
 She prepares to dance. The dance is one of 
 the ancient dramatic dances of India, It 
 portrays the first glimpse of the beloved, 
 embarrassment, infatuation, coquetry, en- 
 ticement, and the overtures of love. It 
 then becomes more reckless in its sorceries, 
 while the beloved still seems obdurate. The 
 dance next betrays jealousy, anger, and 
 finally melting sorrow and surrender. 
 
^6 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Now the play Is Love. It moves like a wind 
 
 among the trees, 
 Woman's drama of the soul, with mysterious 
 
 melodies. 
 Fear as faltering as night, desire Imperious as 
 
 day, 
 Hold Love at their mystic height, till wild joy 
 
 must have Its way. 
 Love Is water for thy thirst, Love Is honey for 
 
 thy mouth. 
 Is thy being never faint In a land of parching 
 
 drouth? 
 Loose the girdle from her breast and the lotus 
 
 from her hair! 
 Take her, for sweet life or death! Is there 
 
 anyone more fair? 
 She dances, and at the conclusion of her dance 
 
 falls at Buddha's feet. 
 Lo, my beauty at thy feet, and my hand upon 
 
 thy knee, 
 In despair of love I lay. Buddha, what am I 
 
 to thee? 
 Buddha puts out his hand and touches her, as 
 
 she remains seated near him on the 
 
 ground. 
 
SIT, LORD, I WILL DANCE FOR THEE' 
 
daughters of dawn 57 
 
 Buddha 
 
 Thou art all beauty, glowing sense and spirit, 
 The world's supremest splendor and desire. 
 Thou art the flower-like joy, the flame-like pas- 
 sion 
 Whose breath consumes men with relentless 
 
 fire. 
 Thou art the subtle unforgotten fragrance 
 That haunts this life with an assuaging power, 
 And would beguile the soul upon her journey. 
 To deify one perishable hour. 
 
 But I, compelled by sorrow for men's warfare 
 Against their bonds upon the wheel of life. 
 Through sore compassion found the Great Re- 
 nouncement 
 The only strength to stay the ravenous strife. 
 Crave nothing! But in kindness with rejoicing 
 Follow the common highway unto peace. 
 There only can survive the flower of wisdom, 
 There only can serene love find release. 
 
 Whoso is tranquil, diligent, undaunted. 
 Not overcome with riches nor with cares. 
 Free from all anger, arrogance, and baseness. 
 
58 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Seeking the truth as one who climbs the stairs 
 Within a tower of outlook, while in all things 
 Serving his fellows with illumined mind, — 
 However slowly, shall escape from darkness. 
 And all the weight of sorrow leave behind. 
 
 For this I waited underneath the Bo-tree, 
 Keeping stern vigil through the holy night. 
 Until Truth dawned, as I beheld the snow-peaks 
 Flushed with a tender glory height on height. 
 
 Buddha rises and paces to and fro, while 
 IZEYL remains seated. . 
 
 And yet the doubt comes — what avails the 
 watching 
 
 Above the world In unlmpassioned calm? 
 
 Do they not sometimes long, those soaring sum- 
 mits. 
 
 To wear the valley's wealth of bloom and 
 balm? 
 
 Ah, not alone thy beauty moves my senses. 
 But the fair soul within thee calls my soul. 
 My manhood strains at touch of joy so tender 
 To lay aside the austere staff and bowl. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 59 
 
 The servant of the gate enters and hows he- 
 fore IzEYL. 
 
 Servant 
 
 Protectress of the weak, the poor in throngs 
 Are crowding at the gate to lay their wrongs 
 Before the Holy One, their woes and wants. 
 Shall I give dole as unto mendicants? 
 
 IzEYL, rising 
 
 Nay, I myself will give, who have this day 
 Received the wealth that passes not away. 
 Let them be fed. Take these, and these, and 
 these, — 
 
 She pulls off her gold and jewelled ornaments 
 and gives them to the servant, her women 
 at the same time removing her anklets. 
 
 And all I have for their necessities. 
 
 Turn gold and gems to bread that men may 
 
 live. 
 There still Is more, — I have my life to give. 
 Go, tell them that Izeyl became to-night 
 A follower of Buddha and the light. 
 
6o DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 The servant goes out and Izeyl turns to 
 Buddha. 
 
 ' Now the undetermined way to perfection waits 
 us still, — 
 
 Thou the sun upon the height, I the mist below 
 the hill! 
 
 So, dear Lord, the play is done, as the moon 
 begins to fail. 
 
 And thy worshipper departs. Thou shalt see 
 no more Izeyl. 
 
 This, that was my house and park, for thy shel- 
 ter is bestowed. 
 
 Love's provision for thy peace when a-weary 
 of the road. 
 
 She claps her hands, and her attendants come 
 forward, with the servant of the gate, to 
 wait upon her departure, 
 
 Buddha 
 
 Thou wondrous prodigal, no merit worthy 
 Thy matchless bounty have I, who must pass. 
 Like a disturbing wind among the palm-leaves. 
 Like an unresting shadow from the grass. 
 But thy good deed, like a reviving perfume. 
 
"O BELOVED ONE, FAREWELL" 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 6 1 
 
 Within the memories of men shall dwell, — 
 Inspired abandon I May the Perfect Way 
 Requite thee I 
 
 IZEYL 
 
 O beloved one, farewell! 
 
 She goes out, accompanied by her two women, 
 who cover their faces with their saris in 
 desolation, Buddha is left standing alone 
 in the growing darkness. 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
VI 
 MARY 
 
 63 
 
persons in the scene 
 
 Mary 
 
 The Angel 
 
 At the Tomb 
 
 64 
 
MARY 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 65 
 
 MARY 
 
 Prologue 
 
 In the brief peace of the Augustan Age, 
 Three trends of human headway checked their 
 
 course, 
 Like currents eddying in a tideless calm. 
 Eastern magnificence and mystic dream, 
 Hellenic learning and awakened art. 
 
 And Roman discipline, all came to halt. 
 As when unbridled revellers at dawn 
 Look wanly forth on time's expectant hush. 
 Stilled of a sudden in satiety. 
 The ancient world of lust and rapine seemed 
 
 To pale with prescience of impending doom. 
 Outside a Syrian rest-house, with no pomp 
 Save glittering troops of stars relieving guard, 
 A Prince of the Eternal Light was born, 
 Whose only ensign was a loving heart. 
 
 Music 
 
66 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Chorus 
 
 What spirit so white, 
 With eyes bent on the ground, 
 As though lost in the plight 
 Of a sorrow profound, 
 That tenderness, faith, and devotion should 
 founder In death and dismay? 
 
 She lifts her worn face, 
 And the glory Is there, — 
 The mothering grace. 
 The victorious care. 
 That have fostered the hope of the ages and 
 prospered the world on its way. 
 
 Her fair mouth is still. 
 Her hands are at rest. 
 With that power to thrill. 
 By the quiet possessed. 
 When the soul to Its lord Is surrendered and 
 divinity swells In the breast. 
 
 O all who have prayed 
 To the glorious son 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 67 
 
 Of this poor Jewish maid, 
 Since her travail was done, 
 Have ye bred In your sons the high courage to 
 be heroes of truth in their day? 
 
 Have ye given brave thought 
 To bring beauty to birth? 
 Have ye suffered and wrought 
 For the welfare of earth? 
 So your service transfigured to glory, like 
 Mary's, shall not pass away. 
 
 A rocky place before the sepulchre of Christ. 
 The entrance to the tomb is on slightly rising 
 ground at the back, with straight evergreen 
 trees on either side. His mother is seated on 
 a stone near by, clad in white, with a fold of 
 her garment over her head. She scarcely 
 moves until toward the close of her first speech. 
 It is just before dawn on the morning of the 
 * third day* after the crucifixion. 
 
 Mary 
 
 Lord of the darkness and the broken heart, 
 In the still purple hour before the sun, 
 
68 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Upon whose floor our lives are sifted chaff, 
 
 And through whose hands the sands of ages 
 
 run, 
 
 Thy will be done I 
 
 Shall there be no compassion in the night. 
 No heed nor hearing of our grievous doom, 
 No heart that feels the loneliness of ours. 
 No hope of tidings from the unknown tomb 
 To pierce the gloom? 
 
 After the anguish of defeat and death, 
 Through boundless desolation of the years. 
 Is there no sign to help us live or die, 
 No touch to wipe away the bitter tears. 
 And quiet fears? 
 
 Knows God the agony of mother pain 
 
 For every sorrow of the son she bore? 
 
 Can any cry to Heaven bring again 
 
 The voice they have entombed, and closed the 
 
 door. 
 
 For evermore? 
 
 If mortal heart can bear the woe and wrong, 
 And still live on in sorrow day by day, 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 69 
 
 If broken lute can lift a duteous song, 
 Or darkened lamp still serve with dying ray, 
 Show thou the way I 
 
 Great God, thou seest the path I tread alone, 
 Thou knowest all that has been and shall be, 
 And all my love of Him who was thine own, — 
 What in thy mighty dream of destiny 
 Am I to thee? 
 
 As she closes her speech, she rises and goes 
 a step or two toward the tomb, lifting im- 
 ploring arms aloft, the fold of her robe 
 slipping from her head as she does so. She 
 stands thus transfixed for a moment, facing 
 the sepulchre, and then turns with a look 
 of wonder, her arms still upstretched, her 
 whole figure illumined in the first rays of 
 the new sun, and her face transfigured with 
 rapture of revelation. From the slightly 
 higher ground she has taken, she looks 
 taller, too, than her wont; so that passers- 
 by might think they had seen an angel. She 
 speaks in a level tone. 
 
70 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Mary, as The Angel 
 Hail, Mary of Sorrows, acquainted with woe. 
 Lift thy grief-shadowed gaze to the light-bear- 
 ing sun I 
 Each quivering leaf and the dawn winds that 
 
 blow 
 Breathe solace upon thee; the victory's won; 
 Weep not ! 
 
 Thy God holds thy hands as he holds night and 
 
 day. 
 Through the rounds of his service, the ways 
 
 to his ends; 
 When thine arms are weakest, his strength is 
 
 thy stay. 
 
 Thine eyes shall see clear in the light that he 
 
 sends. 
 
 Fear not! 
 
 Lift up thy soul on the wings of his voice, 
 Be glad thou wert chosen to play thy great part, 
 Bid all thy mothering patience rejoice. 
 Let the world rest on the strength of thy heart ! 
 Faint not! 
 
 Conceived of divine love, the rapturous soul, 
 Stainless as dew and unfearing as fire, 
 
•♦WEEP NOT!' 
 
. DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 7 1 
 
 From hope unto hope as the quickened years 
 
 roll, 
 
 Shall arise and live on through dismay and* 
 
 desire. 
 
 Aspire I 
 
 The God of all good cannot waver nor sleep. 
 
 Receive the sweet truth that shall lighten thine 
 eyes, 
 
 And be thou the Angel earth's courage to keep, 
 
 The great Loving-Kindness that lights Para- 
 dise! 
 
 Behold! 
 
 Shine on through the ages and arches of 
 
 heaven. 
 For thine is a glorious share in God's plan ! 
 Unto thee from the first to the last has been 
 
 given 
 
 The illuming, the heartening, the moulding of 
 
 man. 
 
 Rejoice! 
 
 Mary keeps her prophetic pose until the cur- 
 tain falls. 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
VII 
 ZENOBIA 
 zyo A. D. 
 
 73 
 
PERSONS IN THE SCENE 
 
 Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra 
 
 AuRELiAN, Emperor of Rome 
 
 A Troupe of Arab Dancing Girls and Mu- 
 sicians 
 
 Roman Officers and Soldiers, Litter-bearers, 
 Guards, Attendants, etc. 
 
ZENOBIA 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 75 
 
 ZENOBIA 
 
 Prologue 
 
 Hark! To what sound like thunder far away 
 Do cities tremble and strong men turn pale? 
 They clutch the sword In Eastern palaces, 
 They lift the tent-fold on Arabian plains, 
 And start In forests of wild Gaul, to hear 
 
 The tramp of Roman legions through the 
 
 world. 
 Then through the beauty of the star-sown 
 
 night ^ 
 
 An angry glare upon the sky proclaims 
 An opulent city given to the torch 
 Of ruthless conquerors on the march to power. 
 
 Where once men trafficked In the crowded 
 
 streets, 
 And women chattered In the bright bazaars. 
 While children thronged the Temple of the 
 
 Sun, — 
 The wild boar feeds among sad ruined walls 
 Of great Palmyra In the desert sands. 
 
 Music 
 
76 daughters of dawn 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Who is this come, in haste 
 From the crowds to be gone, 
 Through the Palmyrene waste, 
 While the legions draw on, 
 With tumult of murderous passions that con- 
 quering lust has released? 
 
 She sees at her gates 
 Roman standards unfurled, 
 Where once vassal states 
 Brought the trade of the world, — 
 Where long caravans o'er the desert came in 
 from the marvellous East. 
 
 She stands like a palm 
 Aloof and unbent. 
 With the sky's royal calm 
 For her curtain and tent. 
 Her loveliness still undefeated, her regal devo- 
 tion unspent. 
 
 Barbaric in splendor, 
 Heroic at heart. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 77 
 
 Undaunted and tender, 
 She plays her great part, 
 Though the reins of her power are broken, the 
 days of her empire have ceased. 
 
 Her beauty still reigns, 
 Though her hopes all have died. 
 Her fierce grandeur remains, — 
 The Bedouin pride, — 
 Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra, the coveted pearl 
 of the East. 
 
 In front of Aurelian's tent before Palmyra. 
 The Emperor is seated, surrounded by a few 
 of his generals and officers, A troupe of Arab 
 dancing girls and musicians run in to dance for 
 him. Before the close of their dance there is 
 a stir outside and the hasty arrival of two run- 
 ners followed by a closed litter borne by eight 
 bearers. They set down their burden and, as- 
 sisted by guards, Zenobia alights with one 
 woman in waiting. At sight of her the danc- 
 ing girls at once stop their dance and, ignoring 
 the Emperor, run to Zenobia, kneel before 
 her, and surround her with every mark of loyal 
 
78 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 admiration, crying, *Long life to Zenobia!' As 
 AuRELiAN rises and approaches Zenobia, a 
 trumpet sounds and servants and dancers with- 
 draw. 
 
 AURELIAN 
 
 Fortunate is this hour, indeed I Happy the day 
 
 for Rome, 
 When here unto Aurelian's tent the Queen of 
 
 the East Is come! 
 
 Zenobia 
 And dark for my country. Emperor I 
 
 AURELIAN 
 
 Nay, It had darker been. 
 Had not the gods delivered thee into my 
 hands, brave Queen. 
 
 Zenobia 
 
 Aurellan, say not the gods preside over a thing 
 
 so base 
 As the treachery which betrayed me here, a 
 
 prisoner before thy face. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 79 
 
 O, better far, had my luckless star gone down 
 in the dust of fight, — 
 
 Had my glory passed unsoUed at last into eter- 
 nal night! 
 
 And lordlier had thy legions shown above a 
 
 broken wall, 
 Than skulking at a traitor's gate, let in at a 
 
 scullion's call. 
 Since when did the Roman eagles deign to take 
 
 a reptile's kill. 
 Like unclean vultures swooping low and greedy 
 
 for their fill? 
 
 Had not black treason sold me here, like a 
 Bithynian slave, 
 
 Palmyra should have been my tomb, her cita- 
 del my grave. 
 
 Zenobia would not have lived to be the spoil 
 of war, — 
 
 To be the Forum's spectacle, in chains behind 
 thy car. 
 
 Ye know the creed of the desert breed, whom 
 
 none can bind nor bow. 
 Rovers of earth by right of birth, from the 
 
 dawn of time till now. 
 
8o DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 But even the gods must strive in vain, at war 
 with treachery. 
 
 Their altar fires are but the pyres of the dar- 
 ing and the free. 
 
 AURELIAN 
 
 You wrong the sons of the Roman wolf I They 
 know the desert^s way. 
 
 And well they know the proudest foe is a lion- 
 ess at bay. 
 
 What evil councillors were thine to move thee 
 to this war? 
 
 Did Rome not give you peace and wealth, — 
 could liberty give more? 
 
 Have not your laden caravans brought all the 
 
 world in trade 
 Up to your gates, with none to bar the roads 
 
 that Trajan made? 
 
 Zenobia 
 
 Hear me, my captor! Had there been upon 
 
 the Cassars' throne 
 One like Aurelian in days past, this discord 
 
 had not grown. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 8 1 
 
 While puny tyrants fought like knaves for the 
 sceptre fallen low, 
 
 Was I to be their prize and fee? By the Im- 
 mortals, No I 
 
 Bred to the freedom of the tents, born of a 
 
 royal line, 
 I drew the tribes Into a Power. I made It. It 
 
 was mine. 
 Here out of turbulence and strife a sovereign 
 
 state I reared, — 
 Palmyra In the Wilderness, rich, beautiful, and 
 
 feared. 
 
 Insolent Persia felt my will, even Imperial 
 
 Rome 
 As empire unto empire In peace or war must 
 
 come. 
 Could I lay by this sovereignty at a dictator's 
 
 word? 
 .Step lightly down from throne and crown, and 
 
 join the driven herd? 
 
 Ceasing to reign, I cease to live. Does Aure- 
 
 llan wonder why? 
 Can a Caesar and a soldier ask? Need Zeno- 
 
 bla reply? 
 
82 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Those poor dance girls with matted curls, that 
 
 clung about my knee, 
 Shall grace my lord's triumphal march; but 
 
 what am I to thee? 
 
 AURELIAN 
 
 Thy noble words, Zenobia, prove well thy royal 
 
 strain. 
 I do lament the downfall of one so fit to reign. 
 Had not ambition duped thee, and thy guides 
 
 who counselled ill, 
 Palmyra had been sovereign, and thou her 
 
 ruler still. 
 
 Let not ambition lure you, my captains, to your 
 
 fall. 
 Ever the overreaching hand must end by losing 
 
 all. 
 Would that this restless folly which Is the 
 
 whole world's bane 
 Might die with me, uprooted never to rise 
 
 again ! 
 
 Yet Is thy speech untempered, great leader of 
 the tribes ! 
 
 Unfair to Roman justice, thy bitter grief- 
 wrung jibes. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 83 
 
 Believe the lonely desert shall forget the morn- 
 ing star, 
 
 When Roman virtue has forgot what truth and 
 honor are. 
 
 I were myself a traitor, had I not seized the 
 
 hour 
 When renegade informers betrayed thee to our 
 
 power. 
 Receive a soldier's tribute I Accept a Roman's 
 
 word I 
 A tumult is heard outside, A hand of unruly 
 
 soldiers clamoring for the life of Zenobia 
 
 A number of officers hurry out immediately 
 
 and quell the disturbance. 
 Fear not my wayward legions. Thy guard 
 
 shall be my sword. 
 
 No safer wert thou ever. Thou shalt go hence 
 
 to Rome, — 
 There with respect and honor be welcome and 
 
 at home. 
 And this thy noble city with its Temple of the 
 
 Sun 
 Shall be preserved from pillage. For thy sake 
 
 it is done. 
 
84 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Although thy rash advisers must pay their 
 
 folly's cost; 
 Thou art no less an empress, for an empire's 
 
 being lost. 
 The .world awards thee homage ! 
 
 Zenobia 
 
 Magnanimous, my foe I 
 
 AURELIAN 
 
 Thine Emperor attends thee. The lictors, 
 there! We go. 
 
 With her last word Zenobia turns away to 
 enter her litter; hut as she hears Aurelian 
 say * Thine Emperor attends thee* she 
 turns and looks into his face. Seeing that 
 he is preparing to accompany her on foot, 
 she signals her hearers to follow, and walks 
 out by Aurelian's side, hearers and at- 
 tendants following. 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
VIII 
 
 JEANNE D'ARC 
 
 1427 A. D. 
 
persons in the scene 
 
 Jeanne d'Arc 
 
 Jacques d'Arc, Her Father 
 
JEANNE D'ARC 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 87 
 
 JEANNE D'ARC 
 
 Prologue 
 
 For a thousand years from Rome to Aglncourt 
 Terror and darkness overspread the world 
 With superstition, bigotry, and crime, 
 While warring nations and marauding kings 
 Raven and slay and wither Into dust. 
 
 Chivalry rides upon Its last crusade, 
 And Learning slumbers In the Church's tomb. 
 Barons and bishops, emperors and serfs, 
 Wallow In witchcraft, cruelty, and greed, 
 As if the angels had forgotten earth. 
 
 Hardly a voice to keep God's name alive; 
 Tin on a summer morn In lovely France, 
 On the shadowy forest border of the Vosges, 
 In small Domremy of peasant folk is born 
 A Little Sister of the Nazarene. 
 
 Music 
 
88 daughters of dawn 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Who remembers God's poor 
 In their humble attire? 
 Yet In them shall endure 
 The seed and the fire, — 
 The strength for fulfilment of longings, and 
 faith for the dreaming of dreams. 
 
 Who stands with rapt gaze 
 In a day-dream, and sees, — 
 While her quiet sheep graze 
 By the tall poplar trees, — 
 A shadowy legion advancing, an army that 
 musters and gleams? 
 
 As a clear minster bell 
 Thrills the soul of the air, 
 Her voice lays a spell 
 O'er a realm in despair, 
 Till the laggard take arms at her summons, 
 assured that God's champion is there. 
 
 In war-harness bright. 
 Through the dust and the fray, 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 89 
 
 With valor alight, 
 She forges her way, 
 Till her mission's victorious standard on the 
 wind above Orleans streams. 
 
 No witchcraft was here, — 
 Slander wide of the mark! 
 Revelation shone clear 
 In the sainted Jeanne d'Arc, — 
 A strain of intrepid conviction, which greatly 
 foresees and redeems. 
 
 Outside Jacques d' Arc's home in the vil- 
 lage of Domremy on the border of a great for- 
 est, Jeanne stands leaning against a tree a 
 little away from the house. Her father sits on 
 a stone nearby. He is a peasant of the soil, al- 
 ready beginning to be old, and his mind is on 
 the past. There is a stream with a few pol- 
 larded willows leaning over it not far away, 
 and sheep are grazing in the meadow. It is 
 near sundown on a summer day. A large pale 
 moon is seen just rising over the wood. Sub- 
 dued music is faintly heard through Jeanne's 
 speeches. 
 
90 daughters of dawn 
 
 Jeanne 
 
 Father, I hear the voices now. 
 Canst thou not hear them, too, — 
 There by the forest edge, so clear, 
 So wonderful, so true, 
 With sound as sweet as the summer rain 
 When the little leaves are new? 
 
 Her Father 
 
 Ay, lass, I hear. 'Twill be the wind 
 
 Talking among the trees. 
 
 'Tis like a human voice, the wind, 
 
 Full of old melodies. 
 
 It minds me of the night I took 
 
 Thy mother on my knees. 
 
 Jeanne 
 
 Father, I cannot mind my work, 
 
 The voices call me so; 
 
 They call me at the dead of noon 
 
 When all the winds are low. 
 
 And when the golden dawn comes up 
 
 With not a breath to blow. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 9 1 
 
 I hear them while I turn my wheel, 
 And while I tend my sheep; 
 I hear them In the dewy dusk 
 When I He down to sleep; 
 And even at the Holy Mass 
 My mind I cannot keep. 
 
 They call and call, *Jehan, Jehan, 
 
 Thy harried country save !' 
 
 I hear them through the music's sound. 
 
 And when the censers wave. 
 
 As the procession of the Host 
 
 Goes up the minster nave. 
 
 Her Father 
 
 Ay, ay, I hear thee, lass, — I hear. 
 Thou mind'st me of my prime. 
 When I would go across the fields 
 In the eager summer time, 
 To court thy mother at her wheel, 
 Singing an eerie rh)mie. 
 
 She always had the misty look 
 Of things unkenned and far; 
 
92 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 And always fancies In her head 
 Of princes, rhymes, and war, — 
 And how the Little People dance 
 Around the evening star. . . . 
 
 Midsummer Eve It was. I mind 
 There was a smell of bloom; 
 Out of the dusk a little wind 
 Went whispering through the room; 
 And all the meadow was alive 
 With fireflies In the gloom. 
 
 Jeanne 
 
 Father, I see the Figure now. 
 'TIs St. Michael with his sword, 
 And a great white shield on his arm. 
 He marches to award 
 Her rightful victory to France, 
 And I can hear his word. 
 
 Her Father 
 
 It Is the great shield of the moon 
 That Is so bright and round. 
 It is the mist from off the stream. 
 That moves along the ground. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 93 
 
 As quiet as a churchyard ghost 
 That never makes a sound. 
 
 Jeanne 
 
 'And there Is Merlin In his cloak 
 Who comes to counsel me, 
 That since a wanton ruined France, 
 A maid must set her free. 
 *Jehan, rejoice, God's holy choice 
 Has fallen on DomremyP 
 
 Her Father 
 
 'TIs but the crooked willow bole, 
 
 That leans across the brook. 
 
 The long grey moss Is like a beard. 
 
 He has an ancient look. 
 
 IVe often marked him leaning there, 
 
 Like a shepherd on his crook. 
 
 Jeanne 
 
 Father, I see our banners pass; 
 The horses strain and neigh; 
 Our men at arms In cavalcade. 
 And knights In war array. 
 
94 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 And kings and squires with commoners 
 Are hasting to the fray. 
 
 And at their head In whitest mall, 
 A standard In her hand, 
 Whereon the Virgin sits enthroned 
 And fair white lilies stand, 
 Rides thy Jehan, for serving man, 
 To free her luckless land. 
 
 Rank upon rank with dust and clank 
 
 The fuming chargers go. 
 
 Our halberds gleam, our pennons stream, 
 
 The level spears are low, 
 
 On helm and lance the sunbeams dance. 
 
 I would I need not go I 
 
 Her Father 
 
 Ay, ay ! Thy mother had these flights. 
 I mind her fancies well. 
 Sometimes she'd hear a cry for help, 
 Times an alarum bell. 
 And times in the half-dusk she'd see 
 Strange sights she would not tell. 
 
I WOULD I NEED NOT GO! 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 95 
 
 I mind the night I brought her home 
 They seemed to vex her sore. 
 She had a fey look on her face, 
 When I led her through the door. 
 But when the good God sent thee down, 
 Ghosts troubled her no more. 
 
 When thou art wed and far this place, 
 'Twin mend, my lass, 'twill mend, — 
 When thou hast daughters by the hand. 
 And a man-child to tend! 
 For God himself sets store by love, 
 And love is dreamlng's end. 
 
 Jeanne 
 
 Father, you do not understand. 
 
 The only love I ask 
 
 Is Christ and his dear Mother's love. 
 
 To aid me in my task. 
 
 And send the French swords ringing down 
 
 Through English shield and casque. 
 
 So I must seek my lord the King, 
 And be his counsellor, — 
 Tell him the angel's messages 
 
g6 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 That bid him forth to war. 
 
 And I must ride, as his maiden guide, 
 
 Though I should die therefor. 
 
 The voices of the ancient wood 
 
 Have put the power on me. 
 
 The angels summon Jehan d'Arc 
 
 To serve God's destiny. 
 
 For pity on the realm of France. . . . 
 
 But what am I to thee? 
 
 Jt this the old man rises from his seat. It is 
 his only sign of feeling so far. 
 
 Her Father 
 
 How should a maid go to the wars, 
 
 With rough-shod men to ride? 
 
 Be there no captains near the King, 
 
 To counsel and to guide? 
 
 Is there no doubt of this thy call? 
 
 Must we this ill abide? 
 
 What dost thou say? What art to me? 
 My own lass ! God thee keep ! . . . 
 
 Embracing her, he turns to brush away tears. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 97 
 
 It Is the mist among the trees. 
 Go now and fold thy sheep I . . . 
 
 He sits wearily. 
 It is the mist upon the plain. 
 I am weary unto sleep I 
 
 His head sinks forward on his breast. His 
 hands lie idle. In the fading daylight 
 Jeanne stands gazing into the dusk. 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
IX 
 
 VITTORIA COLONNA 
 1535 A. D. 
 
PERSONS IN THE SCENE 
 VlTTORIA COLONNA 
 
 Michelangelo 
 Two Ladles 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 ^K\ J 
 
 ^B^ ^H^^b' ^^^^V 
 
 
 ^^^B i^^^^^^^^Hi 
 
 '^ 
 
 
 
 J 
 
 
 ^B .^k';'' ': ^^ ^^H 
 
 ^B^^ta 
 
 P^ ^ J^^^^^^^^I^^K ^'^^^^^^^H 
 
 VITTORIA COLONNA 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN lOI 
 
 VITTORIA COLONNA 
 
 Prologue 
 
 When rash Columbus sailed Into the West 
 Following the sun beyond the unknown seas, 
 And beached his prows upon a fair New 
 
 World, 
 Another realm was rising from the deeps 
 Of troubled faith and mediaeval night. 
 
 In the glad morning of the Renaissance, 
 After long sleep, the holy spirit of man 
 Awoke once more to learning, freedom, art. 
 Out of decrepit creeds belief arose 
 To seek more seemly garments for the soul. 
 
 Erasmus, Luther, Raphael and the rest, 
 Would build again in the sun of natural joy 
 The House of Life long mouldering in the 
 
 shade. 
 And who now should the master builder be, 
 But the fiery seraph, Michelangelo ? 
 
 Music 
 
I02 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 f 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Who stands in the sun 
 By the dark cypress wall, 
 In scarlet and dun, 
 Where the autumn leaves fall, — 
 In a halo of shining hair, like a missal saint 
 aureoled? 
 
 Is she empress or queen, 
 With that confident heart, 
 And her robes' silken sheen 
 As they flutter and part? 
 What wrong would not right in her presence? 
 What eye could its homage withhold? 
 
 Her rare jewels glance. 
 Her linked girdle slips. 
 With each turn of the dance 
 To flash and eclipse. 
 As she moves through an eloquent measure, 
 with an old Latin song on her lips. 
 
 Her eyes have the light 
 Of the knowledge of truth. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN IO3 
 
 As ancient as night, 
 As guileless as youth, 
 And glad as the rose-lidded morning new-risen, 
 yet centuries old. 
 
 What gift could Time bring 
 To Learning's Re-blrth, 
 As welcome as spring 
 When It visits the earth? 
 One flower, Vlttoria Colonna, red lily with 
 deep heart of gold! 
 
 A secluded part of the gardens of the Co- 
 lonna Palace in Rome, a square of smooth 
 green turf surrounded by a tall clipped cypress 
 hedge. There is a flat marble bench at the 
 back, and a bushy golden-tipped cedar, about 
 three feet high, in each corner of the enclosure. 
 There is only one entrance through the hedge, 
 at the left, guarded on either side by two ter- 
 mini, antique marble posts with sculptured 
 heads, a Pan on the left, a Hermes on the 
 right. As the curtain rises Vittoria Colonna 
 is discovered, moving through a slow ballade, 
 and singing a Mediaval Latin student song as 
 an accompaniment. Two companions, or serV' 
 
104 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 ing women, stand by, an appreciative audience 
 of her performance. 
 
 Song 
 
 When the pear tree comes in flower, 
 Cold and grief are gone away, 
 Love and gladness have their hour. 
 Amor vincit omnia/ 
 
 When the leaves begin to fall. 
 Youth and spring have had their day, 
 Why should lovers fear at all? 
 Amor vincit omnia! 
 
 As she begins the second stanza, a man^s 
 voice is heard outside joining in the song. The 
 women smile, as if not surprised, and presently 
 there enters one who is evidently a welcome 
 and accustomed guest of the house. It is 
 Michelangelo. As he comes in, without in- 
 terrupting the dance, he smiles and bows in 
 courteous mock-stilted salutation, and takes his 
 stand by the Hermes until the stanza is fin- 
 ished. Then he advances, and as he takes VlT- 
 TORIA Colonna's hand, leads her to the bench. 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 105 
 
 She sits at one end of the seat, while he remains 
 standing near the other. The waiting women 
 retire. It is afternoon of a warm, still day in 
 autumn. 
 
 VlTTORIA COLONNA 
 
 Did they dance such things in Florence, 
 
 In that Medicean garden, 
 
 Where magnificent Lorenzo 
 
 Crowned your toil with praise or pardon? 
 
 When that young faun's head you fashioned, 
 
 Was his voice enough to fire you? 
 
 Were there not within the cloister 
 
 Other accents to inspire you? 
 
 Buonarroti, how this New Life, 
 
 Just as every hope seemed ended, 
 
 Breaking on us like a vision. 
 
 Makes the old more rich and splendid! — - 
 
 As, how often at the casement 
 
 I have watched through storm and thunder, 
 
 Till at last the sudden rain ceased 
 
 And the sun showed Rome in wonder I 
 
I06 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 So when all our age seemed darkest, 
 Faith extinguished, culture perished. 
 Comes a Renaissance of Knowledge, 
 Freeing all the dreams we cherished. 
 All the lore of buried Hellas 
 Brought to light for our illuming! 
 On old altars reared to Beauty 
 Burn once more the fires consuming! 
 
 Who can walk unmoved through Florence, 
 Where each corner shows a palace? 
 Who but must learn adoration 
 From the chasing on the chalice? 
 Who could meanly live, with Dante 
 Ringing through his soul's dim portals? 
 Or be sad where Lippo Lippi 
 Paints the teeming life of mortals. 
 
 What if here, as once in Athens, 
 Women now should lift the story 
 Of our race from prose to epic. 
 With new freedom, grace, and glory ! 
 We should walk the world like morning 
 On the hill-tops dark and olden, 
 When the sombre peaks of purple 
 Glow transfigured fresh and golden; 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN IO7 
 
 Sane and lofty as Athene, 
 
 Yet with laughter, fire, and daring; 
 
 And deep-bosomed as Demeter 
 
 When she had the earth In caring. 
 
 So shall time's victorious children 
 
 Reach the height and pass the portal 
 
 Of that majesty of beauty 
 
 Thou hast Imaged — more than mortal. 
 
 All thy life long, Mich el angel. 
 Thou hast fought the dull and downward, — 
 Followed only where truth pointed. 
 While the many trailed renownward. 
 Where great arches lift to heaven 
 The dumb heart of the observer, 
 Caught In color, pressed In marble. 
 Live thy dreams, thy faith, thy fervor. 
 
 All that thou hast wrought of beauty. 
 Framed or fashioned, In the hour 
 Of God's counsel, stands forever 
 To uplift this world with power. 
 Strong old prophets, wise young princes, 
 Moses, David, dear Madonna, 
 All In thy great heart have portion. 
 What am I to thee? 
 
i08 daughters of dawn 
 
 Michelangelo 
 
 Colonna I 
 Never that note of despairing sadness, 
 Of human tears and sublime regret! 
 Keep ever thy voice of seraph's gladness, 
 Lest time should lose and the world forget 
 The image of joy no man can measure, — 
 Transcending nature, surpassing art, — 
 The eternal dream, the immortal treasure, 
 The flower that blows in a woman's heart I 
 
 Here stand we, while the great sky arches 
 
 Blue over Rome, triumphal, sheer; 
 
 And Autumn with banner and vestment 
 
 marches 
 In festal pomp for the dying year. 
 What is this earth but a minster old 
 The wind like a crowding organ fills. 
 Where the sun swings up like a censer of gold 
 Before the high altar of the hills? . . . 
 
 Suppose from out of the world somewhere 
 Into a great dim church should stray 
 An untaught urchin, unaware 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN IO9 
 
 Whose house it Is, what It means to pray; 
 He wanders on where the soaring nave 
 Goes up and up, and the soft light falls, 
 Where faded colors are marshalled brave, 
 Row on row o'er the choir stalls. 
 
 The marble knights that sleep so still, 
 The saints that stand In their carven screen, 
 The gargoyles each with a different thrill, — 
 What do the manifold marvels mean? 
 And ever as the wonder grows. 
 Assurance and daring begin to fall, 
 Until where the great east window glows, 
 He halts abashed by the chancel rail. 
 
 And there before the altar stands, 
 To steady the faint heart's come-and-go, 
 An angel with lily-laden hands, 
 Smiling down on the boy below. . . . 
 I was that venturesome child, and thou — 
 Who but the angel great and fair, 
 With the all-seeing eyes, the unanxious brow. 
 The curved sweet mouth, and the luminous 
 hair! 
 
no DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 As all of a sudden the world will glow 
 In the first bright single shaft of dawn, 
 Or the wonder of a painting grow 
 When the scaffold Is down and the screen with- 
 drawn, 
 I caught at last the soul of design, 
 The might of color, the reason of form, 
 The magic of rhythm and melting line. 
 When you moved like music alive and warm. 
 
 I saw where enchanted Beauty slept, 
 
 Like the Fairy Princess, In color and stone, 
 
 Till forth at the prayer of my hand she leapt 
 
 Into a kingdom long her own. 
 
 Onward I blundered, with heart uplift. 
 
 To prove, — the only faith I knew, — 
 
 That mould of body reveals souPs drift. 
 
 I dreamed my dreams, and lo, they are true ! - 
 
 Therefore, I say, regret no more! 
 
 Shall the strong man grieve for his callow 
 
 prime. 
 When autumn and triumph are at the door. 
 And labor and love are lords of time? 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN III 
 
 Thou art the April of Angelo, — 
 
 Thine untarnished smiles, thy generous tears I 
 
 What does the heavenly lilac know 
 
 Of the falling leaves and the flying years? 
 
 This evergreen with golden tip I 
 Be that our emblem treasured fast, 
 As if to remind us, finger on lip, » 
 
 Endure and essay! Truth wins at last! 
 When the earth is judged of good and ill. 
 And men at the Mercy Seat shall stand. 
 As I love you now, I shall love you still. 
 Great heart, in homage I kiss your hand! 
 
 As he bends over one hand, VlTTORiA Co- 
 LONNA lays the other, half playfully, half affec- 
 tionately, on his head, and, as he rises, leads 
 him through a figure of her ballade, while they 
 sing together a final stanza of her song. 
 
 Song 
 
 Let the winter come with snow. 
 Iron ground and skies of grey, — 
 What to high hearts, whether or no? 
 Amor vincit omnia! 
 
112 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 With the concluding passage of the dance , 
 they go out through the high hedge hand in 
 hand, and the singing fades in the distance. 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
 AND 
 
 CLOSING CHORUS 
 
PERSONS IN THE EPILOGUE AND CLOSING 
 CHORUS 
 
 Time 
 
 A Poet 
 
 Modern Woman 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN II5 
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 Ye have beheld In art's transporting glass 
 Some portion of the pageantry of Time 
 Moving across the vast stage of the world, 
 And marked In power and In beauty there 
 Wondrous earth women with the gift of life. 
 
 Indomitable children of the light, 
 Impassioned with high themes of endless good, 
 They bore the subtle and Immortal hope, — 
 The magic seed that should transmute this 
 
 earth 
 Into a paradise where gods might dwell. 
 
 Look forth upon the modern world and see 
 The same great being passionate and fair. 
 Charged with her mystic wisdom as of old. 
 Still championing the sorcery of love 
 And the ecstatic progress of the Soul I 
 
 Music 
 
Il6 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 As the curtain rises for the closing chorus 
 Modern Woman is seen standing in the 
 foreground, with a shadowy multitude be- 
 hind her, in which the figures of ViTTORiA 
 CoLONNA, Jeanne d'Arc, Zenobia, Mary, 
 IzEYL, Sappho, Balkis, Deborah, and Eve 
 can he distinguished. 
 
 CLOSING CHORUS 
 
 Who is here through the hush 
 Of the infinite past, 
 With the confident gush 
 Of spring come at last, 
 As youth must arise from all sorrow to share 
 in the triumph of earth? 
 
 In her hair the gold light 
 Of the sun when day dies. 
 And the violet night 
 In her dusk-lidded eyes. 
 With the freshness of dew in her bearing, and 
 morn in her stature and girth! 
 
 Her throat is unlaced. 
 Her foot is soft-shod; 
 
DAUGHTERS OF DAWN II7 
 
 She is glad and free-paced 
 As the creatures of God; 
 Her way Is the path to perfection her sisters 
 of morning have trod. 
 
 With the ardor of Eve 
 And Zenobla's pride, 
 She Is quick to believe, 
 With soul for her guide; 
 She could go forth with Barak to battle, or 
 grace Jehan's corselet of mall. 
 
 Was Sappho more tender, 
 Colonna more wise? 
 Does Mary not lend her 
 Great motherhood's guise? 
 She is soft with the beauty of Balkis, sublime 
 with the love of Izeyl. 
 
 With solace and fire, 
 With dawn in her voice, 
 She lives to inspire. 
 Companion, rejoice, — 
 A presence of radiant devotion, a spirit of 
 luminous choice. 
 
Il8 DAUGHTERS OF DAWN 
 
 Have ye felt the heart quail 
 And uplift and hold fast, 
 At the swell of the sail 
 As It pulls on the mast? 
 Even so must the sway of her being empower 
 the world to the last. 
 
 Curtain and Music 
 
.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 ^^ 
 
 CD^s^fcDfl^^^ 
 
 / 
 
 9858 
 
 CASI 
 
 25m-9,'12 
 
 ^Cl^ 
 
 05^^ 
 
^r:r%y; :•;. v^) 
 
 m 
 
 ■^\'^d