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 BOURINOT, Arthur w^tanley. 
 
 Laurentian lurics and 
 other poems . 
 
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 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 
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 (ither l0?tns 
 
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 Artlfur &. Sottrttm!
 
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 LAURENTIAN LYRICS 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY M? 
 
 ARTHUR S/BOURINOT 
 
 TORONTO 
 THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED 
 
 MCMXV
 
 
 Copyright, Canada, 1915, by The Copp, Clark Company, Limited, 
 
 Toronto, Ontario.
 
 "The drift of pinions, would we hearken, 
 Beats at our own clay-shuttered doors." 
 
 Francis Thompson 
 
 TO MY MOTHER
 
 The following Poems have been previously 
 published : 
 
 Dusk in the Laurentians, in the University Magazine. 
 
 Absence, in The Canadian Magazine. 
 
 To the Memory of Rupert Brooke, in ''The Band of 
 
 Purple:' 
 Others have appeared in The Citizen, Ottawa, The 
 
 Globe, Toronto, and The Mail and Empire, Toronto. 
 
 A.S.B. 
 
 Ottawa, December, 1915
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Isles of Sunset ..... 7 
 
 Dusk in the Laurentians .... 8 
 
 The World Awakes .... 9 
 
 Gypsy April . . . . . .10 
 
 Summer ...... 11 
 
 Absence . . . . . .12 
 
 Evening in the Hills .... 13 
 
 Laurentian Roads . . . . .14 
 
 Dawn in May ..... 15 
 
 Inadequacy . . . . . .16 
 
 Star O' the West .... 17 
 
 A Flower in the City Street . . .18 
 
 Autumn Leaves ..... 19 
 
 Revery . . . . . . .20 
 
 Prospice ...... 21 
 
 Immortality . . . . . .22 
 
 The Harvest Wind .... 23 
 
 Immutability . . . . . .24 
 
 To the Memory of Rupert Brooke . . 25 
 
 Reveille 26 
 
 To Italy 27 
 
 Dubiety .... . . 28 
 
 Returning ...... 29 
 
 Realization . . . . . .30
 
 ISLES OF SUNSET 
 
 silent isles of sunset, 
 Beyond the hills of dream, 
 Set in a sea of crimson, 
 
 1 watch thy white sands gleam. 
 
 The far off shores of twilight, 
 'Midst ebbing tides of day, 
 Shine like the dreams of boyhood 
 And like them pass away. 
 
 Bright are the seas in splendour. 
 Calm as the after life 
 My dreams lie in their beauty, 
 Serene, untouched by strife. 
 
 O silent isles of sunset. 
 Beyond the hills of dream, 
 When the last bird wings westward. 
 Gone is thy golden gleam.
 
 DUSK IN THE LAURENTIANS 
 
 The hills stretch forth their strong, unwieldy arms, 
 Browned i' the heat of summer suns, to grasp 
 The robes of Day, enamoured of her charms; 
 But jealous Night bends swiftly down and clasps 
 Them to her breast, lets loose her raven locks, 
 Laughing at Day, who blushes as she mocks. 
 
 8
 
 THE WORLD AWAKES 
 
 The world wakes from her sleep; 
 
 The soft, sweet coverlet of white 
 
 Slips down her breast, to creep 
 
 Where morning mists, as light 
 
 As visions, cloud the sea. 
 
 And leaves her naked, land and tree. 
 
 The Southern wind's warm sigh 
 
 Arouses life, and at the dawn 
 
 The birds, with joyous cry, 
 
 Sweep past and on and on; 
 
 Love stirs to touch the earth 
 
 With flowers, dreams and all new birth. 
 
 9
 
 GYPSY APRIL 
 
 Gypsy April 
 
 Came a-straying, 
 
 Swiftly o'er the fields and hills; 
 
 Gypsy April 
 
 Came a-maying, 
 
 Racing with the running rills. 
 
 Gypsy April 
 
 Kissed the tulips, 
 
 Till they flushed a crimson flame; 
 
 Gypsy April 
 
 Touched her red lips 
 
 With the flowers as she came. 
 
 Gypsy April 
 
 Came a-straying, 
 
 Tripping shod with sandals white; 
 
 Gypsy April 
 
 Came a-maying. 
 
 With low laughter of delight. 
 
 10
 
 SUMMER 
 
 Thousands of yellow butterflies, 
 
 Are sailing in the sun, 
 Winging where the meadow lies. 
 
 Fluttering one by one. 
 
 The ripening fields are glowing, 
 Touched with the golden rod, 
 
 And all the streams are flowing. 
 Hushed, murmuring of God. 
 
 The flowers are drowsing, gleaming. 
 
 Tired of the sun above. 
 And all the world is dreaming, 
 
 Dreaming of love. 
 
 11
 
 ABSENCE 
 
 I cannot rest, 
 
 For the swallow's flying, 
 
 And blue-birds with saffroned breasts 
 
 Blue the lea; 
 
 How can I rest? 
 
 Earth with night is lying, 
 
 And the white star o' the west 
 
 Guides to Thee. 
 
 I cannot stay 
 
 While the winds are calling 
 
 And the wild, white horses play 
 
 O'er the sea; 
 
 How can I stay 
 
 With the red leaves falling, 
 
 And ways in their windings stray 
 
 But to Thee? 
 
 12
 
 EVENING IN THE HILLS 
 
 The twilight dusk sinks on the earth 
 
 To shroud the last faint flush of light 
 
 Which blushes o'er the hills, at birth 
 
 Of dark, and the lips of day, bright 
 
 To the last, grow pale with the kiss of night. 
 
 Breath of the Maid O' the Dusk blows 
 With the scent of the rose, and leaves 
 Whisper of love, while flowers close, 
 Nodding their heads in sleep which weaves 
 The web of rest and dreams to all bequeathes. 
 
 13
 
 LAURENTIAN ROADS 
 
 Sweet are the paths that the traveller treads, 
 
 O'er the Laurentian Hills, 
 With a song in his heart the warm wind weds, 
 
 Life to live as he wills. 
 
 Cool are the meadows by the winding ways. 
 
 Where Bob-0-Links take flight, 
 And the uplands allure the sun's last rays. 
 
 The Northern lights by night. 
 
 Dark i' the dusk when the night stills the wings. 
 
 The white moths flutter by. 
 And under the stars the wayfarer sings 
 
 Roving the hills on high. 
 
 White are the ways o' the wanderer's home, 
 
 Hush where the tired heart stills; 
 O, I will return o'er the roads to roam 
 
 Through the Laurentian Hills. 
 
 U
 
 DAWN IN MAY 
 
 Scent of purple lilacs drifts 
 Through the azured veil of dawn; 
 Birds awake, while pale o'er lawn 
 The sweet night flower no more lifts 
 Her head, and white moths slowly wing 
 To sleep and silence; but earth's breast, 
 Gemmed by the hands of morn, caressed 
 With sunbeams, glows with light to bring 
 The world from rest, sweet dreams and sleep, 
 And all the earth resounds with song. 
 Melodies the whole day long, 
 Although the hearts of many weep. 
 
 15
 
 INADEQUACY 
 
 I cannot bring thee worldly things, 
 Love with thy laughing lips, 
 Only a little song that sings, 
 Blithe and free as' it trips. 
 
 I merely bring thee simple things, 
 Love with thy smiling eyes. 
 Dreams o' the blue of blue birds' wings, 
 Only a rose that dies. 
 
 16
 
 STAR O' THE WEST 
 
 Star O' the West, White Star O' the West, 
 
 Light of the ev'ning sky, 
 Brighten the dark of the old hill's breast. 
 
 Rise, for my love is nigh. 
 
 Star O' the West, White Star O' the West, 
 
 Lamp of the crimson eve, 
 Light the little bird safe to her nest. 
 
 Come, ere my love must leave. 
 
 Star O' the West, White Star O' the West, 
 
 Donor of sleep and dreams, 
 Shine o'er my love while her tired eyes rest, 
 
 Glow till the daylight gleams. 
 
 17
 
 A FLOWER IN THE CITY STREET 
 
 I found a flower in the city street, 
 Crumpled and crushed it lay, 
 Trodden down by the careless feet 
 Of all who passed that way. 
 
 Its color was not o' the fairy green, 
 Grey was its gypsy face, 
 But still it wore a wisp o' sheen 
 The world could not efface. 
 
 It fell like a gem from a woman's breast. 
 Loosed like a frightened thing, 
 And I recalled the haunting rest, 
 Of meadows in the spring. 
 
 I found a flower in the city street. 
 With red heart crushed to grey. 
 And life to me seemed sweet, so sweet. 
 Bright as the break of day. 
 
 18
 
 AUTUMN LEAVES 
 
 O sunset leaves of Autumn, 
 Flushed by the frost's first breath, 
 Gone is thy green of summer, 
 Glorious is thy death. 
 
 O sweet thy birth in April, 
 Bursting buds of the spring. 
 But sweeter far the final. 
 Last radiance you bring. 
 
 19
 
 REVERY 
 
 I rose from dreams of thy lost lips, 
 
 While shy dawn smiled through leaves of trees, 
 
 Gold where the dancing sunlight trips, 
 
 And breathed o' thee the wastrel breeze. 
 
 I wandered through the fields of morn, 
 Beneath the blue-eyed, laughing sky, 
 But on the winds thy voice was borne 
 And in my dreams thou couldst not die. 
 
 20
 
 PROSPICE 
 
 Stars will still ope their eyes, 
 
 Blinding the dark with bredes of trembling light, 
 
 The star of love e'er rise 
 
 And beat alone, pulsating through the night 
 
 When we have passed away. 
 
 Dawns will ensaffron earth, 
 
 And butterflies go sailing o'er the land. 
 
 While meadow-flow'rs in mirth. 
 
 Will nod their heads, touched by the wind's soft hand : 
 
 But will we know alway? 
 
 21
 
 IMMORTALITY 
 
 They are not dead, the soldier and the sailor, 
 
 Fallen for Freedom's sake; 
 They merely sleep with faces that are paler 
 
 Until they wake. 
 
 They will not weep, the mothers, in the years 
 
 The future will decree; 
 For they have died that the battles and the tears 
 
 Should cease to be. 
 
 They will not die, the victorious and the slain, 
 
 Sleeping in foreign soil, 
 They gave their lives, but to the world is the gain 
 
 Of their sad toil. 
 
 They are not dead, the soldier and the sailor, 
 
 Fallen for Freedom's sake; 
 They merely sleep with faces that are paler 
 
 Until they wake. 
 
 22
 
 THE HARVEST WIND 
 
 Last night the wind swept swiftly o'er the fields, 
 Where late the wheat swayed golden in the sun, 
 And where no more the singing reaper wields 
 His scythe, for now the harvest toil is done. 
 
 The wind stole quietly, but with chilling breath, 
 And voice as seeking, seeking without end. 
 And low, its murmur said, "I bring not Death 
 But only sleep, the lover and the friend." 
 
 The wind swept past and onward o'er the hills. 
 With restless pace, unwearying in its quest. 
 And in my heart I felt the fear that stills, 
 For swift I heard its beating in my breast. 
 
 The whispering of strange voices filled the night; 
 I dreamed the dead were drifting on the wind, 
 Returning to their land with hastening flight; 
 And still I hear the words the wind's voice dinned. 
 
 23
 
 IMMUTABILITY 
 
 Life, O life, thou hast immortal beauty, 
 
 Reaching from birth to death and far beyond 
 
 To halcyon realn^s of earth's eternity 
 
 Which man knows not till the last day has dawned. 
 
 Silence of fields when verdant grasses sway, 
 
 Bent i' the wind laden with scent of rose, 
 
 Or when the young-eyed spring will swiftly stray 
 
 Kissing the vernal buds which soon unclose; 
 
 O loveliness of dawn and night who sweeps 
 
 O'er the hills, her mantle drenched i' the dews 
 
 Of Acheron, dewing the bloom which sleeps; 
 
 You are the soul which earth shall never lose. 
 
 Year after year snows clothe the gelid earth, 
 
 But love n'er fails to rouse anew life's birth. 
 
 24
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF RUPERT BROOKE 
 
 He loved to live his life with laughing lips, 
 And ever with gold sunlight on his eyes, 
 To dream on flowered uplands as they rise. 
 O'er which the moon like burnished metal slips; 
 To hear the gypsy song in sails of ships. 
 And wander o'er the waves 'neath azure skies, 
 Seeing the splendour of tired day which dies 
 And into lone oblivion slowly dips. 
 
 But suddenly his country clashed in arms, 
 
 And peace was crushed and trampled like pale bloom, 
 
 Beneath the careless feet of man and beast, — 
 
 The world was turmoil, stirred from west to east. 
 
 And song and gladness had no longer room. 
 
 For drum and bugle called with loud alarms. 
 
 25
 
 REVEILLE 
 
 Slowly the sun rose like a ball of flame, 
 
 Above the hills, hid in a mist of dream. 
 
 And from the rows of round, white tents there came 
 
 The murmur of men's voices through the gleam 
 
 Of dawn, and then across the morning air 
 
 Swept the shrill bugle's warning, waking sound. 
 
 Drowning the dreams of men with clarion blare, 
 
 And ush'ring them again into life's round 
 
 Of preparation for great Freedom's cause, 
 
 For which their hearts and strength are steeled and 
 
 strong ; 
 All eager to uphold down-trodden laws. 
 E'er rising to their tasks with laugh and song, 
 And willing if the need should ever be, 
 To give their lives, their all for Liberty. 
 
 26
 
 TO ITALY 
 
 (Before her entry into the war, May, 1915) 
 
 Italia where the might of Rome held sway, 
 Crowned with grey olives 'midst the Appennines, 
 Awake, arise, and seize the sword that shines 
 And gleams with lustre gained on Milan's day, — 
 O strike the foe who ever blocked thy way, 
 Crushed out sweet freedom, filled thy heart with hate, 
 Until all love and laughter left the gate. 
 And then Mazzini came, who urged the fray. 
 
 O, follow now the way Mazzini led. 
 
 Patriot dreamer, exiled for his dreams; 
 
 Let Cavour's mem'ry fan thy wrath to flame 
 
 And Garibaldi in famed shirt of red. 
 
 Point out the path that ever onward gleams 
 
 And leads thy sons in arms to nobler fame. 
 
 27
 
 DUBIETY 
 
 I often wonder if, when I am dead, 
 
 I'll know that swift with full approaching dawn 
 
 The sun glides up with glory o'er her head, 
 
 Spreading her golden tresses on the lawn; 
 
 Or wading through broad lakes with sandalled feet, 
 
 And scent of all the south winds in her hair. 
 
 Caresses with ambrosial arms and sweet, 
 
 The glowing waters laving limbs so fair; 
 
 Or that dark woods will thrill to sad, far note 
 
 Of wakened thrush or straying owl of white, 
 
 In seasons when the Indian pipe's white throat 
 
 Is dimly seen amid the forest's light; 
 
 I often wonder if, when I am dead, 
 
 I'll know the flowers are waving overhead. 
 
 28
 
 RETURNING 
 
 I came once more 'midst the Laurentian Hills, 
 
 Where love and I with laughter used to stray, 
 
 And wandered o'er green uplands where life stills 
 
 And fauns and fairies dance at dying day. 
 
 The pallid trilliums nodded fast asleep. 
 
 With pale, white faces peering through the gloom; 
 
 A sweet and subtle incense seemed to creep 
 
 Across the silence of the world's broad room 
 
 And breath o' dusk was sweet in lilac time 
 
 And dark, brown throated birds burst forth in song. 
 
 While through the valley rang the evening chime. 
 
 And little stars flowered the skies ere long; 
 
 Dreaming, I trod the shadowed, dusty way; 
 
 Alas, with dawn, my dreams were dimmed and grey. 
 
 29
 
 REALIZATION 
 
 I did not know that first time that we met, 
 That in you I should find my life's ideal, 
 And that my heart should ever after feel 
 No sorrow in your presence, no regret; 
 For in the past I ever loved to let 
 Mine eyes find their delight where eagles wheel 
 Above the cliffs, seeing the slow night steal 
 From deep, abysmal caverns dewy wet. 
 
 I loved the sun, the stars which strew the floor 
 Of night, the sweetness of gold summer fields. 
 And incense which the twining wild flow'r yields, 
 Till dreaming on the lintel of love's door, 
 I saw thee with thy down-fallen hair so sweet. 
 And laid my love with longing at thy feet. 
 
 30
 
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