IN MEMORY 
 
 HELEN STANFORD TAYLOR 
 
 Who, in her eighteenth year, 
 passed from earthly being on 
 the evening of the third day 
 of June, nineteen hundred. 
 
 BY E. R. T. 
 
 FIFTY COPIES PRINTED AT SAN FRANCISCO FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION 
 IN THK MONTH OF JULY AND YEAR NINETEEN HUNDRED
 
 Oh. give me words all steeped in tears, 
 And heated in the hottest fire 
 
 My heart has known in all its years, 
 To body forth my grief s desire; 
 
 To speak of her who was to me 
 
 A vision of celestial light, 
 But whom I can no longer see 
 
 No matter where I strain my sight. 
 
 2073944
 
 I 
 
 (AN this be day? The sun 
 
 is up, 
 
 /And I have had my break- 
 J fast cup; 
 The wagons roll along the street 
 Where men go by with hastening feet; 
 Ah, yes, it must be day. 
 
 But come and see where cold she lies, 
 Death s fingers on her once-bright eyes; 
 With pallid lips that cannot stir; 
 The aching mother bent o er her; 
 Ah, no, it is not day.
 
 II 
 
 CANNOT deem that she 
 
 is dead; 
 I cannot think that she has 
 
 fled 
 For evermore from me; 
 
 For in the midst of nightly things 
 There is a something subtile brings 
 Her form again to me.
 
 Ill 
 
 i BIRD of strange and bril 
 liant hue 
 With powerless wing was 
 
 fain to fly; 
 But as my heart its fate did rue, 
 A sudden wind from out the sky 
 Swept it far up until it seemed 
 The strength had come its soul had 
 dreamed.
 
 IV 
 
 OW bloomed round her the 
 flowers of nurturing care, 
 How breathed on her Home s 
 
 kindliest summer-air, 
 How softly smooth her daily paths were 
 
 made, 
 From that sweet moment Life first gave 
 
 her breath 
 
 Until that bitter time her dear head laid 
 Its lilied loveliness in lap of Death! 
 
 8
 
 Y heart was kept with fear 
 
 astir 
 Lest lightest harm might 
 
 come to her; 
 My lips could not have dared to speak 
 One word to pale her bloomy cheek. 
 
 But now my fears are gathered up 
 In grief s exhaustless wormwood-cup, 
 And though I spoke in loudest tone 
 Her cheek no paler hue could own*
 
 VI 
 
 N mystery s face I did but 
 
 peer 
 When she my heart with 
 
 love did fill, 
 
 And yet her pulseless beauty here 
 Breeds mystery which is greater still.
 
 VII 
 
 HOSE dainty fingers, how 
 
 they swept 
 The keys until the music 
 
 leapt 
 
 With bounding, heartsome thrill; 
 But now as on her breast they lie, 
 They from Death s organ wring a cry 
 Than polar ice more chill. 
 
 n
 
 VIII 
 
 ROM out a wood where 
 
 waters ran 
 
 As only joyful waters can, 
 ^ Where flower and tree 
 
 with rapture heard 
 The ecstacy of many a bird, 
 And in the air was such a lull 
 That everything of peace seemed full, 
 I sudden came upon a cave 
 With brooding gloom as of the grave, 
 And peering in the darksome nave, 
 Awe-struck I saw upon a stone 
 A mother bowed in grief alone. 
 
 J2
 
 IX 
 
 H, mournful joy to call to 
 
 mind 
 What often comes at 
 
 memory s beck: 
 To see around each other s neck, 
 Like honeysuckles intertwined, 
 The arms of mother and of her 
 Whom Death forbids dear Love to stir. 
 
 J3
 
 MUSIC fell upon mine ear 
 As though from some ce 
 lestial sphere, 
 Then sudden ceased, and 
 
 discord s clang 
 
 Throughout my heart remorseless rang. 
 Alas! what awful woe 
 In human heart may grow! 
 What dreadful thought to stab a man, 
 That Heaven from Hell is but a span! 
 
 14
 
 XI 
 
 [LONE I lay on desert 
 
 sands, 
 
 No water near my palsied 
 hands, 
 
 Above me vultures ravening bills, 
 And in my heart the grief that kills. 
 
 Twas but a dream, as well you say, 
 And as a dream, has passed away; 
 Then let us kneel beside her bier 
 And beg the faith that casts out fear.
 
 XII 
 
 OW far Pve come since I 
 
 was born 
 To be thus stricken and 
 
 forlorn; 
 
 To halt beside Life s rugged road 
 And pray for strength to bear my load. 
 
 \6
 
 XIII 
 
 |N angel met me in the 
 
 wood 
 [And led me where her 
 
 sister stood; 
 Then each one kissed me on the cheek, 
 But not a word did either speak. 
 They vanished, but I knew that they 
 Had brought me flower of peace that day.
 
 XIV 
 
 HE fog rolls in as it has rolled 
 For years that never can be 
 
 told, 
 And all the sky is dull and 
 
 gray 
 
 As in the far-off, olden day; 
 And hearts still ache 
 Until they break, 
 As it has been since Death held sway. 
 
 But though the fog be deeper rolled 
 The sun s above it as of old; 
 No sky can be so dull and gray 
 But that the blue will have its way; 
 
 And hearts will wake 
 
 For love s dear sake, 
 As it has been since Life held sway.
 
 XV 
 
 WOMAN, great of form 
 
 and face, 
 Who seemed to be of 
 
 Sorrow s race, 
 Led me away from sun-bright air, 
 And from the trees and blossoms fair, 
 To lonely depth of solemn wood 
 Where but the sombre cypress stood. 
 
 She gently breathed a wordless prayer, 
 Then left me strangely dreaming there; 
 And when I waked, a newer grace 
 Was round me as with love s embrace, 
 And forth I went in heartened mood 
 Beneath the spell of chastening s good.
 
 XVI 
 
 HAT note is this which 
 
 sweeps 
 
 Along the mountain steeps, 
 Where neither grass nor 
 
 tree 
 Nor verdured thing can be? 
 
 Tis Life s great trumpet blown 
 By lips that heroes own: 
 "The death-strewn Past is gone 
 The Present s yours; march on!" 
 
 20
 
 XVII 
 
 HE world overflows its cup 
 
 of woe, 
 Each heart has felt the knife 
 
 of pain; 
 
 But I would have my soul to know 
 That all is best, that God doth reign. 
 
 21
 
 O Grief that is darker than night! 
 O Sympathy brighter than light! 
 Mysterious twins, I have heard 
 Your awfullest, soothingest word.