& UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA ; I KT < >K ^Accessions KoSy^. Clax No. LYRIC TOUCHES JOHN PATTERSON CINCINNATI ROBERT CLARKE & CO 1893 U5I7BRSIT7] COPYRIGHT, 1893, BY ROBERT CLARKE & CO. 355 , MAIN Acknowledgment is made for their courtesy in permitting the use of copyright poems, to the Cosmopolitan, Peterson and other .maga zines and periodicals, CONTENTS. PAGE. To POLYMNIA, 9 THE FAN, n AT SUNSET, . .... 12 To THE MARECHAL-NEIL ROSE, . 13 Two SIGHS, ...... 15 THE PARIAH 16 A WINTER HEMP-FIELD, ... 17 WOULD! ....... 20 EI2 XEAIAONA, 21 COMRADES, 22 THE HANDKERCHIEF, .... 24 A HYMN, ...... 25 THE WISH, ...... 27 DARK, ....... 28 AD PUERUM, ...... 30 LOVE AND FANCY, .... 31 A P^AN, 32 WHEN TO-MORROW SHALL BE TO-DAY, 33 OVER A PICTURE, ..... 35 (5) 6 Contents. PAGE. THE BUTTERFLY AND ROSE, . . 36 AUTUMN LEAVES, 37 TO-MORROW, ...... 38 IN MEMORY OF SUMMER, ... 39 AN IDOL, ...... 41 THE VINAIGRETTE, .... 42 A PRAYER, ...... 44 UNDER THE ASPENS, . . . .45 WITH THE ROBINS SONG, ... 46 SUB Quo CCELO ? 48 THE SOUL, . . . . . 49 IN THE AUTUMN WOOD, ... 50 DURING A SONATA, .... 53 WITH A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER, . . 154 To THE MOUNTAIN MIST, ... 55 A SERENADE, ...... 157 FATE, 58 To A SLIPPER, 59 AN AUTUMN SONG, ..... 60 TO-DAY, 62 To A FALLEN LEAF, .... 63 SUB ROSA, ...... 64 A CLUSTER OF GRAPES, ... 65 VERSE, ....... 67 Contents. 7 PAGE. THE EPIPHANY, ... .. 68 To THE STARS, ..... 60 To A MOCKING BIRD, ... 70 AN OLD MAID, . . . . . 72 UNDER A PICTURE. .... 73 EI2 POAON, 74 UNDER THE MISTLETOE, ... 75 To A STRING OF PEARLS, 77 FAITH, yg NOCTURNE, ...... 79 THOU, 81 WHEN, ...... 82 THE SILENT GATES, .... 84 CHORAL ODE, 86 LYRIC TOUCHES. TO POLYMNIA. COME, and breathe me a song, O Muse. Who guidest a graceful pen : Only a delicate, lyric thing, No epic and deep refrain. Round the rhymes with a far bird s note Or sweet, wet smell of a rose, Or a memory with tear-drops hid In the cadence at the close. Treat a theme as an artist would A vagrant and dreamy valse, Leaving the ear in easy strain And finding no echo false. (9) 10 TO POLYMNIA. The touch of a tress on dancer s cheek Inspires love s deepest sigh, So if there be a line of love, Just hint at a sad, big eye. Muse, I long for a song to-day Writ with a tender pen, The verses falling in fragrant shower, And thoughts all sweet in their rain. THE FAN. THE FAN. T DYLLIC cloud of flossy down and silk, 1 Like cirrus floating o er her hand of milk, Upon one satin side perennial traced A landscape whence the daisies never waste : A flock of caded sheep which never stray The shepherd with his reed uplift to play : A distant skulking wolf which can no harm, And frets the timid flock with vain alarm. The other envied side I can not see From feathered tip unto the ivory. More wondrous charms I ween would be revealed, Its own and of my love s flush face con cealed. 12 AT SUNSET. AT SUNSET. A MEADOW lark is lilting in the plain, An owl forlornly cooing from a tree Which velvet winds are dusting lazily. A flock of sheep agraze within the green Sweet grass, crops daintily toward the sheen Of dancing stream entangled in her dress Of violets ; while floats a restlessness In toneless fugues of light above the scene.. The sun s last kiss hath sent a vivid thrill Through all he loves. The meadow and the bird Are left full strong and warm against the chill Of clammy night : the thirsty sheep have stirred The dim unsilvered stream and drunk their fill, And dumb with dreaming, follow I the herd. TO THE MAR&CHAL-NEIL ROSE. 13 TO THE MARECHAL-NEIL ROSE. art like glad canary, rose, 1 Thy silken leaf its plume, thy showers Of perfume its lay. Thou art like summer day that glows, Thy golden petals, golden hours In a bright bouquet. Dropped from the Dawn s disheveled hair ? For as she leaves her lord s love-bed A flushing from his kiss, I ve seen a creamy rich rose there Croceous-hued fall from her head, And thou art like to this. Full happy are thy dimpled leaves, For each is wed to loving mate Nor dying lie apart. As yellow wheat bound into sheaves They cling together and await On one another s heart. 14 TO THE MAR&CHAL-NEIL ROSE. Thou livest only summer s length, And canst not bear the birds good-bye Like the asters cold. The sun must woo thee in his strength, Or in modest rains thy scents reply While the tale is told. What if thy cup of life is small ? Who would not long for beaker brimmed With such cordial wine, A draught which blends the sweets of all, And then to rest with requiem hymned By birds, O rose divine ! TWO SIGHS. 15 TWO SIGHS. ONE sigh for a song, For a song that is sung. It was sung me erst long Was the song. And one for a rose, For a rose whilom white. It is faded to-night, Is the rose. . Love sang me the song, And love gave me the flower In a long vanished hour, Rose and song. And so will I sigh It is all love has left : When in thought I m adrift Will I sigh. UNIVERSITY 16 THE PARIAH. THE PARIAH. NO music has softened the din of her day- The night which approaches brings music for aye. The roses are wan in the way she has trod In freshness they bloom on the grave s narrow sod. No peace has she found in the path of the past Adown by the cypress she finds peace at last. And sorrow is fled, burning tears cease their flow " Thy sins though as scarlet, shall be white A WINTER HEMP-FIELD. A WINTER HEMP-FIELD. THE men returning from the valley fields Of hemp are singing near the tilted bars A strange, wild tune. The , tin-pails swinging from their sturdy arms Twinkle with silver faces of vain stars And slender moon. The breaks, like oxen from the harness free, Stand wan with moon-light and their duty s dust, Ghostly and mute. And crisply crack the scattered sheaves of hemp Slim lances ready for the morrow s joust To parting foot. The fires are fading of the burning shives, The embers waken from their ashy swoon In cloudy pipes. 18 A WINTER HEMP-FIELD. The carts go rattling down the roseless lane, Apast the orchard which presents no boon To thirsty lips. Fainter than distance grows the homing throng Of workmen singing, and the neighing team, Over the hill. Softer than shadow is the breast of Peace Brooding and nestling with the pale moon- gleam Over the dell. God-Nature s workmen have begun their task. Their steel aglitter gives no clamorous time Nor martial sound. They pierce the hemp hearts with their silver blades Of frost, and fetter with the rings of rime The captive ground. A WINTER HEMP-FIELD. 19 These curious workmen carve their cameos Into the onyx of the frozen field By evening s lamp. Mysterious cryptograms which puzzle him Who saw this thing within a winter field Of the tented hemp. 20 WOULDJ WOULD! A FULL camellia at her breast, As white and cold As if of snow-flakes matched and held In frozen fold. A flower of haughty beauty pure" But no perfume. More suited dead Jhan living heart, The scentless bloom. What if her heart is free of love s Perfume as this? And if her lips so beautiful Are cold to kiss ? Would that the white camellia To red rose turn ! Would that the warmest flame of love Her dear heart burn ! EI2 XEAIAONA. 21 El 2 XEAIAONA. (From Anakreon.) THOU, dear Swallow, Coming once a year Dost braid thy nest in summer, In winter disappear . To Memphis or the Nile. But Love is ever braiding Its nest within my heart, And Love s- egg is waiting,- When Love is winged to part, Nearly hatched the while. So the gaping birdies Cries are heard alway. The grown Loves feed the Lovelings ; No sooner fledged than they Are busy hatching others What hope is then for me ? My strength is insufficient Such countless Loves to flee ! 22 COMRADES. COMRADES. A BAND of comrades have I, A chosen band of three Who tend my daily marches And guard the tent of me. He strong, with girded . loins, With shining shield and mail And bow and arrow ready, Is my brave warrior "Will." And often when the battle Is loud with hue and strife, And I am faint and failing, His arm protects my life. He swift, with piercing vision, And keen axe at his side, With steps secure and steadfast, Is "Truth" my trusty guide. COMRADES. 23 And if when deep bewildered In ways unknown and new I grasp his honest fingers, He leads me safely through. She sweet, with harp and psaltery, With eyes like summer shade And voice of low bells linking, Is " Hope" my fair handmaid. And she, when I am wounded, With balsam from her breast Binds up my bleeding sinews And soothes my soul to rest. And so wherever tented, Their fearless fires are here, And I secure from danger, My comrades bivouacked near. 24 THE HANDKERCHIEF. THE HANDKERCHIEF. EXQUISITE, airy thing Linen and lace, Soft as a white dove s wing, Brushing her face. Pure as the tea-rose bloom, Queen of its band, Holding the light perfume Caught from her hand. Bordered with slender lines Silken, and cleft Fine as the spider twines Into his weft. / This is the handkerchief Delicate, sweet, Fallen like lily-leaf Down by her feet. A HYMN. 25 A HYMN.. WHEN no hand helping In waters foaming Life seemeth waning, Thou art my Rope. When eyes are weary, When days are gloaming, Still art Thou near me, Jesu, my Hope. When I a wanderer Proud through the passes Slip into pit-falls, Thou art my Crook. When I a doubter See through dark glasses, Thou comest nearer, Jesu, my Book. Sound of the sobbing Left for the living This can not reach me, 26 A HYMN. When on Thy breast. Groans of the failing, Groans of the striving, Will be earth-echoes, Jesu, my Rest. White let them robe me Meet for Thy pity, Lilies to plead with Their breath, mine lost. Into Thy kingdom, Beautiful City, Jesu, receive me, Jesu, my Host. THE WISH. 27 THE WISH. (At Love s Birth.) CLEAR, tender star of evening hour, Be thou as Olden Star a guide, Perform for me thy fabled power, And lead his foot-steps to my side. The over-curving crest of heaven Without thy blue would be but dim, And as thy blue to perfect heaven, Is he to me, and I to him. Clear, tender star of evening hour, Be thou as Olden Star a guide, And when thou shinest on my bower Restrain thy course and here abide. I care not if he brings no treasure Like Eastern princes took with them. No gold can pay the price of pleasure Is he to me, and I to him. 28 DARK. DARK. LAST night the mystery of dark within A tiny heart untried of grief was born And baby-lips by sorrow s sobs unworn. A mother s anguish paid the greed of pain. Last night beneath the shivering, pallid stars A snowy head and faded face were dead; From weary heart the agony was fled, The late soul lifted o er the Golden Bars. Oh ! mystery of dark, of flowing tears ! To-night, to-morrow will it still repeat ? Shall no last breath soon earth s design complete, Or shall Time s tarnish dim unnumbered years ? Hath not a sculptor carved a marble fame Divine enough to catch immortal flush? Hath never painter touched a face to blush With life fulfilling the Creator s aim ? DARK. 29 Hath poet never strung the purposed shell And never sung the tuneful song of songs ? Among the aeons countless beauty-throngs Hath perfect woman never woven spell ? When o er this pulseless breast blue violets move, For they will wave feeling my heart in them, Shalt thou be born, the long-awaited Brahm, To prove all creeds are right in truth of love? Beneath this cypress to the marble mark From, in yon chamber, woman s travail cry, This one way we are passing you and I : Who seek to see beyond find ever dark ! 30 AD PUERUM. AD PUERUM. (From Horace.) 1HATE the Persian pageant, boy, Rich chaplets twined with bark annoy. Forbear to seek where haply yet The wild-rose linger late. A simple myrtle wreath prepare ; On nothing else bestow a care, For while I quaff neath clustered vine, It suits my brow and thine. LOVE AND FANCY. 31 LOVE AND FANCY. 1HID my heart In a radiant rose of red A flower flushed with its touch Lone charm in my tangled bed. To Fancy brought, The flower was left to die, Idly breathing its tale. Forgotten flower and I. At last Love finds And binds the rose in her breast. I laugh at Fancy s form As Love is tenderly pressed. 32 A P^EAN. A P^AN. THEY have taken from Zeus his scepter, They have banished Bel from his throne. They would drive my God from His Heaven And leave me to die alone. But I gaze on His splendid palace, And His eloquent envoys there, The sky with its stars of silver, And I fancy no foolish fear. I look on His works of wonder, The earth, the sea and the sun, And the work portrays the Master, Which none but He could have done. Let them marshal their hosts to battle, I ll brighten my helm and shield. And I know that in spite of their taunting Jehovah shall win the field. WHEN TO-MORROW SHALL BE TO-DAY. 33 WHEN TO-MORROW SHALL BE TO DAY. WHEN to-morrow shall be to-day ; When the night shall be wept away, Will the kindly sun make dry our tears, As he dries the dews from the rose which dares To lift her blushing face to be kissed ? Will the night s long anguish fade with its mist When to-morrow shall be to-day ? When to-morrow shall be to-day ; When the silvern stars grow gray, And the herd to the distant hill departs, Will the morning lark bring the song to hearts Which he brings to the depths of throbbing shy? As he sings serenely, shall you and I When to-morrow shall be to-day ? 34 WHEN TO-MORROW SHALL BE TO-DAY. When to-morrow shall be to-day ; When winter hours drift into May, When bird and sweetheart are building a nest, Will love return to the empty breast ? Will the same clear eyes again beguile, Enchanting still with the old sweet smile, When to-morrow shall be to-day ? When to-morrow shall be to-day ; When the clay shall return to clay ; When we to the Master Death are thrall, And willows are weeping over all, Will our sorrow sink in the River of Rest, Will our names be numbered among the best When to-morrow shall be to-day ? When all to-morrows shall be to-day ! ! OVER A PICTURE. 35 OVER A PICTURE. SWEET girl, I love thee for thy face Where truth and beauty find a place To dwell with purity a mien Of Poesy s conceit hast thou In Grecian mind thou must have been A goddess meant for Parian snow. God took the thought, and chiseled thee From his divine and throbbing clay. Above the pictured face I dream And look until mine eyes grow dim Her features blend into a blot. My heart s cold altar of desire, Her eye, a flame forget-me-not, Shall light forever with pure fire. And with those heaven-tender eyes A heart shall burn its sacrifice. 36 THE BUTTERFL Y AND ROSE. THE BUTTERFLY AND ROSE. A BUTTERFLY of weary wing r\ Flew to a rose to rest and swing. The butterfly, a bloom of light, The rose was only snowy white. "Am I not fair, O rose," said he, The rainbow scarce can fairer be. " See where the gold to orange turns, And purple kissed by crimson burns. "A flower taught to fly; a gem In azure air to float and gleam. "And like a falling star my flight; While thou art only simple white." I weened the taunt while passing by, And for the rose did make reply. "A worm art thou on painted wings, The bud is white from which she springs. A UTUMN LEA VES. 37 AUTUMN LEAVES. AUTUMN leaves of the forest, Ye are letters woven strong Into tales of the scarlet woman In her revel and her song. Ye were modest in maid s sweet manner, And your songs were pure and divine. Now your words are wild with passion, And your lips are aglow with wine. Ye came, and the sun came burning, Defiling you with his gold, As a lover kisses with laughter Such lips as are bought and sold. 38 TO-MORROW. TO-MORROW. ""pHERE is a maiden light and fair, 1 With hint of sunshine on her hair. Her deep eyes flash so dark a blue That by them sapphires lose their hue. Around her throngs a fairy band Of Hopes all dancing hand in hand; While grim old Time, with locks of snow Is playing for them where they go. And crowds of lovers vain pursue The Circe maid with eyes of blue, For if to kiss her any tries, With mocking laugh to Time she flies. To-morrow is the maiden s name Whose looks the hearts of men inflame, Who in the path of death beguiles Still beckoning with seductive smiles. IN MEMORY OF SUMMER. 39 IN MEMORY OF SUMMER. WHERE doth the brimming rose spill musk Along the way, Where whitely stray The smooth bare feet, at dew of dusk, Of maiden to the spring, her throat Repeating softer tones than rote From tremulous harp wind-strung ? Songs of thy sweetness sung, Roseal Summer. Dreary these dim and tearful days When ravaged glades Wear tattered shreds, And sadly hangs a crape-like haze Upon the wistful woods unleaved, While to thy memory, bereaved Thy voice a dervish song In many a mystic tongue Mourning thee, Summer. 40 IN MEMORY OF SUMMER. When mocking winds are flaunting snow On meadows Which they froze, I wonder where thy warm winds flow Scented with floating blossom-shells, Sweetly fluctuate to thy calls And flower-fingered hand, And where the blue-bird band Lilts to thee, Summer ? If I were where thy lilies sigh In perfumed prayers Unto the stars, Their sainted kindred of the sky, Could they and birds retune my heart To gladder mood and happier art ; Have my dear hopes outflown Thy scepter and thy throne, Summer, sweet Summer ? AN IDOL. 41 AN IDOL. THERE are pearls like those of the cir cling sea Whiter than beads of milk can be. But they must be gained with glittering gold, For pearls like the shivering sea are cold. There are two sapphires blinding blue Like pieces of sky which have fallen through, But a palace s luster must light the gems, For in a cottage no sapphire gleams. There are twin rubies of warmer red Than breasts of robins by arrows bled. But only mammon can kiss their ray, Remote as the distant stars from me. And these fair gems in an idol are That will crush me under her cruel car. For others are offering riches rife, And I can offer but love and life. 42 THE VINAIGRETTE. THE VINAIGRETTE. AN incensed fane By silvery chain There swings : A gleaming mold Where cling in gold Strange things. The good Koran Doth damn the man Who spun The dragon wings, And beasts and things Thereon. * And yet this rest Of bird and beast In rows The girl I woo Keeps lifting to Her nose ; THE VINAIGRETTE. 43 And out and in The stopper thin She draws, Her hands retrace From lap to face Because This temple-tray Ammonia Conceals This silhouette A vinaigrette Reveals. 44 A PRAYER. A PRAYER. OH ! come to my sorrow, Peace, like the calm to the sea, And bring to the haunted darkness Light from eternity. Keep watch on my mourning, Stars of the steel bright beams, And send from the realm of heaven Hope with her peaceful dreams. Attune to my comfort, O Lyre of Heavenly Love, And perch on my burthened bosom, Rest, like the white Ghost-Dove. Oh ! come, gentle Slumber, Press thy sweet lips to my eyes, And whisper like a mother crooning, The promise of Paradise. UNDER THE ASPENS. 45 UNDER THE ASPENS. HE minstrel-wind s love touch hath made \ The gleaming bosom of the lake To palpitate in sweet alarm. The aspen trees resent the kiss The saucy reveler gave, trembling Musically to eye and ear. While silvery leaves beam like faint stars, And twinkle in the tender blue. A careless dreamer lies beneath The milky-way of leaves, and loves To hear the tales the poplars tell How such a lover said, " I love," And carved within their snowy peel Two names he would were one. 46 WITH THE ROBINS SONG. WITH THE ROBINS SONG. O WEET is the robins vesper song vj Which melts in the blaze of golden sky, As the sun goes down and the birds fly by And come in the maize with their melody, Where the purple corn-flowers cling Close to the stalks of the withering maize, Like memories cling to fading days And bloom in the heart in the evening haze. With breasts as red as the mellow peach And red throats rounded with songs out pour They seem ripe fruits as the day is o er, And corn to bear what the peach-trees bore. The reapers rest on their silvery scythes Or silently lie on the heaps of husk, While from the dimbles of corn, the musk Of flowers and the robins song in the dusk. WITH THE ROBINS SONG. 47 Sing on, suave birds, in the crested corn, When the day is done and the night is nigh May I have hymned such a melody As yours to pierce to the purple sky ! 48 SUB QUO CCELOf SUB QUO CCELO? WHO says that summer has no snow ? Look at the rose-buds in summer- hair, Fragrant snow-flakes floating there Into the white drift of her brow. Who says no flowers the ice-lands grace ? Look at the violets liquid blue Staining me purple through and through, In the Frigid Zone of her frowning face. I know not if the summer s gone : I know not if the winter be : The twice two seasons are mixed for me Who follow the moods of this fairest one. THE SOUL. 49 THE SOUL. T^HINE eyes are clear with soul therein. 1 Beneath the laces of the lash There shines a light pure as is seen In reflex of a brilliant s flash. And as the sunbeam lights the stone And lends its luster to the gem, So too thine eyes light s not their own ; The soul it is which shines in them. 50 IN THE AUTUMN WOOD. T IN THE AUTUMN WOOD. HE autumn-wounded bleeding wood Draws close around its cloak of mist To hide the clinging blood. The red leaves fly against my face With slender claws of fir and pine, Like birds intruders chase. A sunbeam weary of its flight Lies panting on the maple s breast, A languid shape of light. Or is it a last butterfly Softly waving with rainbow wings, This envoy of the sky ? Yon late flower seems in its retreat An alabaster vase of spice, Broken at Autumn s feet. IN THE A UTUMN WOOD. 51 Invisible its odors fly In rapid rings of spikenard sweet Into the purple sky. I feel their light touch on my face, As when we feel the silken sweep Of wings in some dim place. What faint far birds are those which sing Like hopes of summer trouped for rout, Like dreams on waking wing ? Their music sets my fancy free. I hear the oaten pipe of Pan In sylvan minstrelsy. Strange dryads roam the darkling wood And deep illusive eyes delude Of Faun and forest-god. I pull with them the flammeous grape ; I crush wild wine of memory Until my pulses leap. I live again the happy time When earth was all a singing-place, And love my only rhyme. 52 IN THE A UTUMN WOOD. And now the heavy gloom of care Is on the autumn s wings of haze Floating, fading, lost in air. DURING A SONATA. 53 DURING A SONATA. THE music-perfume poured around me makes The very soul within me drunk, While she is playing in a fragrant sea Of liquid notes the wimble fire of art Diffuses into scented harmony. i She holds my heart in her white restless hands, And would a melody it were, That she interpret its impassioned strain ! For then her ear would harken to the plea, Which trembles at its pink approach in vain. 54 WITH A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. WITH A FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER. THERE is a tender little flower So meek, so soft with sympathy, They cling together happily In a scented circlet-portraiture Of sixty minutes in the hour I spent upon their drowsy bed, To wreathe bands for her burnished head And find Hap s four-leaved clover flower. The mead and I miss each of them ; The bumble-bee waits for their sweet. My four-leaved clover faded, dim With me I offer at her feet. Do I wake or do I dream ? She makes my happiness complete ! TO THE MOUNTAIN MIST. TO THE MOUNTAIN MIST. (The Alleghanies, 1892.) MIST that clings so soft To the green lace upon the mountain s breast, With downy wings sky-sent To brood the beauty of the rocks divest, Far on thy pinions blue My soul would fly with thee, empyreal mist. Forgetful of cold reason My rhyme would bear my soul in mystery Dissolving in thy vapor ; A soul to dream such volant dreams as fly From reason s hardening hands, Like smoke-designs in artist-fingers die. Diffused in glyns and dingles; Glad as the wild-grape wine s unravished mirth ; Part of air s purity 5(5 TO THE MOUNTAIN MIST. My soul would float to-day from sorrow s dearth A wish thy Weirds are laughing As old as longing and their purple birth ! B A SERENADE. 57 A SERENADE. UDS of the lily-Graces Hiding their snowy faces Weary resisting, languidly lie. The lover current is kissing, Kissing and closely pressing His lips to their love-pale lips with a sigh. Sweet, I float in trie flowers Under the silvern shores. What if the lime and the lilies are fair ? Silverest moon is dreary, Whitest pond-lilies weary Until my lily, my love is here. Soon will the moon be shaded, Soon will lilies be faded, The water will darken, the warmness be cold. Come ere the lilies wither, List to my plaining zither, Come ere the night and we grow old. 58 FATE - FATE. TWO birds go singing over head, Two swallows swift and sweet. Their glad love lay makes melody While day and darkness mate. They build their nest in a mossy ruin Whose guests have long been dead, And gaily chirp in the solitude Of halls no foot-falls thread. For some must hush for some to sing, And joy comes after grief. Palace will mold, but nest will build, And death createth life. TO A SLIPPER. 59 TO A SLIPPER. IN the dream of the languous valse Softly circle Silver with sheen of the silver light, Slender slipper, When the touch of her tiny foot falls, Kissing its shadow as day does night. In the mutable maze lead my love Lightly, smoothly As swallow sailing o evening late, Burnishepl slipper, Like the down of a tremulous dove Winging, gleaming by with its mate. In the drift of the vagrant valse Slowly circle, Hiding the heart which I place in thine, Silken slipper, Ere the weight of her proud foot falls Crushing cruelly, knowing it mine. AN A UTUMN SONG. AN AUTUMN SONG. IN the wood Autumn presses her wine, Till the flood Overpours every tree and vine, Staining leaves and the golden weed With sardoin and sulphur shine. In the hills Flutters the falling leaf. It appeals To my heart as a symbol of grief, Sinking down in the breast of the wind Which gusts over stubble and sheaf. In the air Are strange echoes and murmurings. From the bare Bush where yon late bird swings And sings, are the leaves awhirl Like a covey of birdless wings. AN A UTUMN SONG. Ere thy flight Bird, why sing if bird thou art, Not a sprite, Nor a fancy of autumn s heart. Thinkest thou the foot-falls of woe From the wood at song will depart? And I am Dazed at hearing thee sing. In my dream And the mystic visions which spring In the heart at the fall of the leaf, When the roses are withering. So farewell ! No other singing, nor thine Can dispel The mist from the hill and the sign Of sorrow which is set in the wood, In days of the summer s decline. 62 TO-DA Y. TO-DAY. THE swarth night draws his eager cur tains low About the gold loclcs of the winsome west. The hint provokes a holy passion-glow When day s divest. I long to couch me with this sweet to-day Who rambled through the rosies sunnily, If this pure wife might haply gender me Such heirs as she. TO A FALLEN LEAF. $3 TO A FALLEN LEAF. THE happy summer lived with thee, Happy with bloom and bird returned, Now all thy beauty blear and burned, The weeping summer dies with thee. The autumn s winds low threnody, A dirge for all thy kindred mourned, Sighs o er thy fallen form un-urned Beneath the forest s feet to lie. But soon will snow with silent hand Spread crystal wreaths and winding sheet ; And tears adorn thee and thy band Beneath whose tarnished coronet Many a narrow mound will stand, Where happiest summers terminate. 64 SUB ROSA. SUB ROSA. 1HAVE fallen in love with a rose And have plighted my faith to hers For her sweetness when I was sad And her tender responsive tears. She had wept all the night, as I, At such sorrows we have, not you Who laugh at the fanciful griefs Which a rose and a dreamer know. I have gathered the rose to my heart : But, rose, is my love so true Since you fell from the careless breast Of a lady more fair than you ? A CLUSTER OF GRAPES. (55 A CLUSTER OF GRAPES. MLSTY-purple globes, Beads which brown autumn strings Upon her robes, Like amethyst ear-rings Behind a bridal veil Your veils of bloom their gems reveal. Mellow, sunny-sweet Ye lure the banded bee To juicier treat, Aiding his tipsy. spree With more dulcet wine Than clover white or wild woodbine. Dripping rosy dreams To me of happy hall Where laughter trims The lamps till swallow-call ; Of flowery cup. and throng Of men made gods in wit and song. 66 A CLUSTER OF GRAPES. Holding purer days Your luscious fruitfulness, When prayer and praise The bleeding ruby bless, And memory sees the blood Of Christ the Savior, God and good. Monks of lazy hills, Stilling the rich sunshine Within your cells, Teach me to have such wine Within my breast as this Of faith, of song, of happiness. VERSE. 67 VERSE. FOOLISH we think to make our verses bright By writing* ruby, diamond, sapphire, gem. Foolish we fear to make our verses dim By writing rust, tarnish, cloudy, trite. Carping his song retards no swallow s flight ; Singing of summer maketh sprout no as phodel ; Calling it dark opaques no crystal well ; Calling it crystal sweets no brackish bight. The age is of form- verses, not of power. We strive to philter muses with such herbs Of speech, as witch ne er demon with the lure Of plants so sapless. Let the magic herbs Of rhythm, pungent and powerful conjure The Nine in fewer adjectives, more verbs. 68 THE EPIPHANY. THE EPIPHANY. CHRIST, Thou art born ; Thy star is in the sky. *l seem to see three camels tread the plain Laden with precious gold and nard again At the new symbol of Epiphany. Perchance the magi from death s swathes are free, Their limbs unmuffled from the spicy fold, The stones from off their crumbling couches rolled To suffer them again to worship Thee. Jesus Savior, keep our vision clear, And make our souls from faithless dark ness free To see in Heaven always thy guiding star, Always the light of thy Epiphany ; That the fainter grow the scenes of earth and far, The fairer grow our sense of Heaven and Thee. TO THE STARS. 59 TO THE STARS. TREMULOUS slaves of the light, Blue and silver and white, At glance of the moon, Stars, are ye pale with fright ? Are your beams buds in a spray, Bloom of ethereous sea Which maidens hold Glad in eternity ? Or gems in the angel s breast, Bearing dead souls to rest Unto heaven Gems of his lucent vest. Secret my soul would know Flashes to me below : Learn that we are Eyes of the gods oh you ! " 70 TO A MOCKING BIRD. TO A MOCKING BIRD. WHEN the slender shallop of the moon Glides among the lights on the azure sea, Propelled by sails unseen and winds un known, Dashing softly earthward a silver spray, Wakeful thou art singing dreamily. All not beautiful is now unseen Beneath the silver-plating of the spray. The white-robed Earth swings incense from her fane, And silent are the choristers for thee To chant the lesson of thy ecstasy. Brown-surpliced prelate of flowery glade, The interwoven notes of melody Which loudly fill thy ruffled throat or fade And faint adagio from tree to tree Were made for such a night, the night for thee. TO A MOCKING BIRD. 71 Fragrant almost is thy minstrelsy : I scarcely know which sense receives the bliss ; I hear it, smell it with the apple tree And even feel it with the breezes kiss, So all-pervading is its tenderness. The ocean ever singeth to the exiled shell : Far summers echo in thy plaintive lay Which seems to hold the music and the smell Of scenes of many a vanished June and May, Kept as shells keep the memory of the sea. Holy, holy is each phantasy Awakened by thy song a prayer more true Than any Christian ever sent on high. And peace and calmness follow thy adieu, As the pure orison transcends the blue. 72 AN OLD MAID. AN OLD MAID. THROUGH warmer glows of girlhood days She meekly passed, her love conceived Immaculate. Her soft heart grieved, Still bleeds with flowing sympathies. A noble woman she portrays The sensitive soul misunderstood, The hungry heart starving for food, The woman wronged of love and praise. What if no mesh of scarlet cheeks, No lure of eyes, nor silken tress Detain beauty captive ? Who seeks The soul heeds not its humble dress. The sweetness of her smile bespeaks Pure beauty born of saintliness. UNDER A PICTURE. 73 UNDER A PICTURE. lamplight faints and croons the 1 fire s flame, Then pagan silence rests my chairs among. Above the mantel hangs an oaken frame Love smiles on kneeling me idolatrous. An oaken frame with wreath of silver sheaves Faunus did carve the wooden thing for me, And twisted to the rim some slender leaves Which frost had mellowed with a soft white fire. Her image pensive through a circled glass. She looked one moon into a mirror-pool; The loving waters crystallized her face, And Cupid cut this picture in the disc. Faunus and Cupid ! did these twain recall That I had mocked the old gods as a dream ? Now is a goddess in my heathen hall, Bright face of heaven in a temple dim. 74 EI2 POAON. Ell POAON. (From Anakreon.) OROSE of the Loves, Let us steep it in wine, The beauty-leaved rose Round our temples entwine While we drink, while we smile. Rose, fairest flower, Boast of spring s bower, Even gods you beguile. And Cythera s boy Twists the rose in his hair As he leads on the dance With the Graces to share. Crown me then while I play, Bacchus to thee : Round thy shrine, god of wine, With a deep-bosomed girl, Rosy wreaths on my brow, 1 shall whirl, I shall whirl. UNDER THE MISTLETOE. 75 UNDER THE MISTLETOE. (To E. H.) A THOUGHT S span holding mistletoe l\ Gathered from the braw oak s breast The sun s orbed fire seems altar flame, The wrinkled oak a Druid priest. Silently I bend my head Until the Druid cease to pray And chant to beads of mistletoe Ancient Briton carmina. The mistletoe hath green gold pins Where pearls of waxen berries glow : Such things as hold a lady s hair What if my love should stand below ? With brown large eyes where darkness haunts As in the deep of dreamy stream ; Her braided hair in curves and curls With just enough of gold to gleam. 76 UNDER THE MISTLETOE. I d kneel me on the happy leaves Trembling and warm beneath her feet, And gentle draw her down beside Until the forfeit were complete. The oak tree sighs ; remembers he The vine which clung about his breast And twined love-flowers into his locks? Make I and Druid one request ? I wonder if his god more kind, Or he a tenderer prayer can pray, And if the Druid wins his wish Which God Jehovah grants not me ?* TO A STRING OF PEARLS. 77 TO A STRING OF PEARLS. W KITE weal of the sea Cling tenderly As I, if I thus were blest. Smoother than silk Of first dews of milk Which shine on the pinks of a breast. Is each a gem Which once did gleam From lips like the sard for red? Cold in the grave Which pale tides lave With froth and the wan sea-weed. Strung on a strand Of floss as bland As tresses of red, red gold, Pearls, were ye thread From dead lips and head As the moaning waves have told ? 7S FAITH. FAITH. HE gathers all his squadrons some brave day He, Youth, commanding, and his captain Hope. Ambition, Faith, Love rally on the slope Which lifts unto the enemy s array. Bold cavalry with restless sword and steed, The banners curling and the bugles blown, Thy flash, thy courage and thy might are thrown Up hill into a fatal enfilade. Life s batteries unmask with many a gun ; And thick hail hurtles the impulsive band : Love s sabre falters ere the summit s won ; Ambition wounded wails his nerveless hand. But Faith stands on the envied height alone, Spikes the last gun and waves his bannered wand. NOCTURNE. 79 NOCTURNE. THERE trembles near my starlit way A timid rose Which seems a fragrant flake of snow That summer brings Back to the air whence winter tore the spray. The white shell dropeth a pearl-tear When it is culled : This rose which knows her not is sad, And I d be glad To die upon her beauty s buds or hair. Sadly I listen where he flies In path of song To mocking-bird I startle doomed to die Within the lake, Mistaking its clear mirror for the skies. But as I cross the lichened bars Into the lane, I smile to hear some love-lorn lad To slender maid Swearing her bright tender eyes are stars. 80 NOCTURNE. I wander till far worlds grow faint And fainter grow, Until their gray blends with day skies, And morning birds Mock at my singing with a mild complaint. THOU. 8l THOU. (To E. H.) DUSK gold of scented hair thy coronet, Twisted and tangled with a careless care, Clinging about thy temples smooth and fair As some pure things the snow confesses white. And when thy mysteries of deep eyes speak Rebuke, soft with their wounded tenderness, Enchanted I with beauty s holiness Stagger like one between the dream and wake. With sard and alabaster of thy face Give of thy mouth the pearl and coral red, And let these gems my happy cottage grace ; Then men shall point of me when I am dead : " Behold ! a miser lived in yonder place, And in his heart was all his treasure hid ! " 82 WHEN. WHEN. WHEN laughter flew My world wide through Glad winged as homing, happy dove, And autumn s flail Swept summer s trail, I asked my love. When her brown eyes Shown bright as is The seven-toned light from worlds above, And Youth s pen traced Life s etchings chaste, I blessed my love. When her dear eyes Are wet as lies A deep, deep pool while rain-drops rove, And sorrow halts Within their vaults, God keep my love ! WHEN. 83 When clear light flies My love s big eyes, As bird will leave his chosen nest, When we are old My heart shall fold And love her best. 84 THE SILENT GA TES. THE SILENT GATES. THROUGH the silent gates There comes the slow, sweet breath Of roses dozing, And whispered intercourse Of wind and leaves. There the shadows fall Like wings of weary birds Feebly fluttering, Till sunbeams cover them With nets of gold. Through the silent gates There comes the quick coarse cry Of ravens calling, And the sodden sound Of falling clay. There the marble doors Display their snow in which Are traced sad legends And the carven names Of guests within. THJE SILENT GA TES. 35 There our sleepers sleep And you and I who wake Beyond the grating Of the silent gates Are drowsy, waiting. gg CHORAL ODE. CHORAL ODE. (Euripides Medea, lines 627-662.) THE Loves in excess bring nor virtue nor fame, But if Cypris gently should come, No goddess of heaven so pleasing a dame : Yet never, O mistress, in sure passion steeped, Aim at me thy gold bow s barbed flame. May temperance watch o er me, best gift of the gods, May ne er to wild wrangling and strifes Dread Cypris impel me soul-pierced with strange lust ; But with favoring eye on the quarrelless couch Spread she wisely the love-beds of wives ! Oh fatherland ! Oh native home ! Never city-less May I tread the weary path of want CHORAL ODE. 37 Ever pitiless And full of doom ; But on that day to death, to death be slave ! Without a country s worse than in a grave. Mine eye hath seen, nor do I muse On other s history. Nor home nor friend bewails thy nameless pangs. Perish dismally The fiend who fails To cherish friends, turning the guileless key Of candor s gate ! Such friend be far from me ! 13562 - U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES i I I 1 I 1 ii