COLLECTED POEMS ROBERTS NRLF I 3 3MS COLLECTED POEMS COLLECTED POEMS BY CHARLES V. H. ROBERTS AUTHOR OF "LOUVAIN," "THE SUBLIME SACRIFICE," ETC There is no greater use of things than loving them; In flowers of gladness or in seeds of grief, All else wanes off and comes to nothingness. Through all the sophistries of crafty mind, Mould our shallow pleading as we may, By laws that are themselves the breach of law, The lowliest thing is sanctified by Love, And sheddeth incense over Destiny. From Louvain Act I THE TORCH PRESS NEW YORK AND CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA LONDON: 12-13, HENRIETTA STREET COVENT GARDEN, W. C. 1917 CONTENTS THE CALL OF LIFE .... n THE CALL OF THE COUNTRY . 17 THE CALL OF LOVE .... 23 THE CALL OF HAPPINESS . . 31 THE CALL OF SORROW ... 37 THE CALL OF DEATH ... 45 THE CALL OF ETERNITY . . 51 HEAVEN AND MEMORIES ... 57 Poems of Love and Passion A PROPOSAL 67 THREE WORDS . 70 IDYLL . .... 72 TRANSCENDENT LOVE . . 74 THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE ... 77 MY LOVE 79 LAST NIGHT, BELOVED ... 82 COULD I FORGET .... 84 CONSUMMATION .... 86 CONSOLATION 88 I OFTEN THINK .... 91 LOVE S APPEAL 92 8 Collected Poems Poems of Egypt, etc. THE SPELL OF EGYPT ... 97 DREAM O NILE .... 99 To THE SPHYNX .... 102 FAREWELL, O EGYPT! . . . 103 THE ANGEL OF MADEIRA . . . 106 ALGIERS 109 War and Miscellaneous Poems THE SOLDIER S FAREWELL . . . 113 VICTOR JOFFRE 116 OUR FLAG IN THE DESERT . . 119 LIFE S FALLACY 121 WHERE FLOWN, O PEACE? . . 122 To MY FATHER . . . . 125 TIME 127 DEATH . . . . . . 128 THE IRISHMAN S DREAM (A Dra matic Poem in two Scenes) . 131-143 THE CALL OF LIFE THE CALL OF LIFE Only one Life to live! To do the best With it, to make the most of it, that s the ques tion! Life is music on a sea whose waves are souls, Conceived in the sweetened darkness between two worlds. Ah! Think! Each one a cosmic part of this Great Universe; a Symphony in aeons, Whose cadent bars but mix and mingle to The throbbing Pulse of its Creator. Let Thy Song, great mystery winged wondrous Life Proclaim to me thy secret! To grasp thine essence, Play to my mind some key in what thou art! The Chord is struck! An Earth is lit by Magic flame Amid the conscious vestments of eternity: And thou dost teach great Space to bear, To grow, to breathe, to flower, feel and love; And unto Man place greater Arts in thy proud edifice. 12 Collected Poems Sequestered, I a Life unto a Life Do speak, unravelling gilded lessons In the unknown retinue of mortal Being, To lead each swaying spirit back to the starry Firmament and palace Court of Heaven. To be alive, I deem a lavish gift Self-existent, self -completing; and I should make music in these hours brief, To play to deeds in my maturer days, That all their great and golden reeds be mine. Err not in the deeper freedom of the skies, With all their dreams of stars and moon and sun, And the singing of a thousand different worlds. With outstretched arms embrace grim Oppor tunity, And fear not joy, that joys might ever be. Move with conception and with splendid thought, And be not out of tune with thy design; Let future hopes cross the string of dead de sire; Steer with great calm though in a tempest tossed. The Call of Life 13 O Life! thou art an awsome mute appeal, From mystery unto mystery peopling worlds; A chorus singing to eternal arches, Yet each frail voice a trembling worshipper. Let Kindness be thy mystic star and Drop Pretence. Success cannot be born in sham. Whate er thou art then fearless let thee be. Exaltation will thy greatest deeds refute, As Silence sings thy praise in noble harmony And Self-control the Prelude on the strings Of power, will and grand accomplishment. It were a priceless life that can control The heart s fierce beat, and never speak a word. Let go of Discontent. In all eternal years There is no murmur from a restless heart. How trivial the complainings of thy harassed days, Thy maimed wants and selfish thoughts; In songs of praise thy frettings be undone. Thou shouldst make me, Life, to such strange effect That Sympathy be the eyelids of my mind, 14 Collected Poems Truth the omnipresent iris in the banquet lights And Honour the pupil on my soul s eclipse. Make use of Time. There s the Godly sting! The most reckless spendthrift in the world is he Who squanders time. What power can restore The moment that has passed, the day whose sun Has set, the year that s numbered with the ages gone? It awes me when I think there was a time When Life and I were not, when the mysteries Of eternity swept on, and the sun turned Into day, without the sound or sight of man. Hearken unto Death! his torch ablaze, Yet invisible in the toils of mortal passion, Of sins and shades, and wasted days of youth. Be gemmed with prayer and kindred prepar ation. A sleep unto oblivion no form, A flaming memory, a ring of visions, - Thou art a ruby in God s Paradise. THE CALL OF THE COUNTRY THE CALL OF THE COUNTRY Oh, my Beloved! Death laughs here in Rome: A pestilent malady is in the summer s air. Keep close this warning of the grieving mist And crimson snare of Death. Thy home Is in the Country, the hills of melting ame thyst. Beyond these festering streets are fragrant fields Powdered with buttercups and shyer things. Hide thee there, in the silvery breeze swayed grass, Where meadow larks trill high on fluttering wings; Or into the wood s dark fringe, where a cuckoo s call Darts like an arrow through the orange trees. How lone and cool his note now faint and far Beyond the chorused humming of the bees. Beloved! Thou art my soul s idolatry, Its dreamful ease, its beauty and all its radi ance. 1 8 Collected Poems Leave Rome! Thy heart-strings murmur for the country, For streams that wind and wave, for shadows that glance And glide in gardens darkening for love s mystery. Thou wert not born as other women are, But in swoons conceived by some immortal star. Ire and danger fill the city s breath, Each street a vein embalmed a scar In anguish. Be not tempted by the grail of Death. There s no contagion in the whispering fairy- ed grass Where Nature blows on his pipes of reeds with Pan s own glee, In love-enraptured tune. If thou wouldst see The roses bloom again, the stars e er shine, The foam-bells sparkle on the waves, Then hasten to the country and in time; To fields of blossomed trees, past little shrine Where crumbled stones proclaim a golden past. The Call of the Country 19 From o er our villa, clouds will sail across the sky And the colour of the evening pigment take, The green of lemon trees, and fragrant spice, Fair olive groves, the halls of twice One thousand years, and a lily lake,- A flinging beam, a twilight hedge, thou and I. Sun like a red pomegranate! The city s eyes are sulphurous. Go, Beloved! All here is dolorous: There pure water gleams, whose fringes we will tread; Pagodas gilded, where faint dreams entice The sweetest rites of love to sanctify; Silver rays a-glimmer o er our bridal bed, With dimming eyes as candles clear thy heart to sate The yielding spirit action we ll partake. At last thou art amid these sacred groves, These woods and wilds and musical retreats: No more the city and its pall of Death; All there is dismal as the Shades beneath. Across these mellow fields the Muses sang; Still revellers danced; great rhapsodies of Love were heard 2O Collected Poems The bloom of secret dawn and sweet repose, The stream s clear flow, the call of mating bird. We accept the perfect stillness of the ground, And the vision of a sunset-saffroned sea. Our lives shall be the history of a rose, Each day a petal in a sweeter bliss; And when like leaves, they turn to braken gold- Where waves the grass and prostrate legions old- No name but thine shall on these barks be found, To glad the earth and gild the evening sky. Breathe on my burning lips thy softest w r ords, Thy love into my soul and every vital part, Thy thoughts, thy melody and all thy joy, Until thou hast assuaged my yearning heart. Thus we, Beloved so having been shall never cease, But only wander wander to eternal peace. THE CALL OF LOVE THE CALL OF LOVE O Immortal Love! The centuries Have confessed thy powers and art to please, Yet still thou guardest all thy mystery. Command is writ upon thy brow the free Of Earth e er have yielded to thy sway. Time has not bent thee to the ground, Aged thy face or deafed thine ears to sound; There s enraptured secret glitter in thine eyes, And in thy voice, an outflung solo from the skies, An earth-lyre for Nature s Mastery. Nor rocks, nor caves can from thy presence hide; No soul from thee can surged sea divide; From dawn thy bridal veil fills all man s sight, And steels the thews of youth to deeds of might. Thou art Queen Beauty, in Life s Dynasty. Deep through Life, emotion sheds thy beams, Like stars that twinkle in the spring-fed streams. 24 Collected Poems Thy waving hair as years, upon the surface blows ; Thy cheeks reflect the lily, then the rose, Each petal beating in some human heart. Thou dost weave a magic on the waiting air, Through twilights, on and on, enchanting free. Leaf-dance and petal-gleam thine errants see; Hear woodland voices, soft and fair, And the vaster fairy footsteps of the night. Who can glimpse thy scheme, thy jewelled visage, For Philosophy and Science are but mirage That oppose their own great doctrines. Can a storm Stir the petals of a rose, or tempest warm The twilight into day before the passage of the night? Then Love, thou hast a savage courage and Deliberate force, that venture and expand The whirl-winds of fierce Nature s great de sires. Storm or heights, the flaming sun or fires Of Hell, control not thy spirit s soaring might. Oft thou art wild, mad and irridescent The Call of Love 2$ In thine ills then mist-veiled, dim and con valescent, Dream-drowsy in thy languor and thy mys tery; Voluptuous in spice-scents, thy pulses beat fiercely; Thine opal heart leaps in sunset crimsoning. rapturous one, thou art the keeper of the keys To Paradise. Guard well the gates lest on my knees 1 shall demand they be unlocked wide Open then engulfed by stern Passion s tide, A pagan god inhaling rare incense. Thou dost make souls flash together in A flame of new-found joy, and all within Thy wondrous unseen presence. A swoon ing perfume O er the quietest sleepers in the world con sumes To vibrant ecstasies hitherto unknown. Then Love, hold high thy chalice lest I quaff Too deep, lured by the perfume of thy wine; For the fairest liquor yields its spurious dregs, 26 Collected Poems That feed the mortal and choke the soul di vine, The fountain of our hopes and destinies. One cannot suffer who has never loved, Nor can he love who has not sorrow known. Dream worlds and all our many pains are moved Beneath thy wings, cherished pathways shown ; Thy half-veiled star keeps vigil over us. Thou art a Child, a Mother, Husband, Wife. Oh! to solve the single secret of thy life s Philosophy, thy noble madness, thy honeyed drugs, Thy Memory and Truth that hugs Each soul to the very arms of grim-robed Death! Thou art remembered from the other worlds; Perhaps been died for or by History hurled Through many pains, laments and secret joys: But Time, nor Change, nor fiery Fate de stroys Thou art conscious always quick ning through eternity. The Call of Love 27 Thou art a dream to deeds of man s eternal days, Of passions peerless, and of half-glimpsed ways To happiness. Thy reeds of joy are mine Which pipe in flame and make thee near- divine. O sequestered Face Love s deathless coun tenance! THE CALL OF HAPPINESS THE CALL OF HAPPINESS Happiness! thy vision comes to me In kisses of Egyptian lavender; Sung by mermaids on a silver sea, In verses of the moon so calm and tender. No one can doubt thy presence and thy mean ing, Resounding silken-smooth and blissful-teem ing O er the world joy-waves from pain re deeming. 1 have met thee far away wild sails of long Ago. Thy masts were furled with creeds un true, When Grecian gods, the Muses, and thy wor shippers in song Dreamed naught lay there beyond eternal blue. Prayer was then, in gold and silver wrought, Thy heaven but an incense-stream of pleasure bought In clouded wine, sold in sensuous thought. 32 Collected Poems But thou hast sacked the ages of their madness, And breathed beyond the tryst of heathen stars. From Bethlehem thy messengers bring glad ness- Great tidings o er this bitter world of ours. Thou speakest then in strongest jubilation, Thy joys fulfilled to highest consecration; Thy one big tear the Cross of Expiation. O Happiness, thou hast no nobler gem than prayer, That silent meditation of the soul, When real things touch us vividly, and where Thy rich accords and richest current roll Outward to the shore of Paradise. There, wafts no water but knows thine eyes, Where sundered stars breathe only in thy sighs. Thou art purest in the little child, Caressing lovingly each new-bought toy; Frail, floating innocence, yet wild In laughter, song, merry-play and joy. O to be a child again! the Fairy Tales, Old Santa Claus those kindergarten days, With chant from little primer the dreams of tiny sails! The Call of Happiness 33 Thou art a limpid spirit on our wedding day, To vanish with us on the wings of love. That f ai rest flowering Motherhood thy way That brings an angel for the God above. Oh! grow thou then, amid the garden of our joys, Make it sweet and holy for our children s plays, Each tree and bower each little petal, be their toys. Be on our death-bed, Happiness, where the shadows lie; And Faith becomes still more the garment of our soul. Weave gently the ending of our life, and try To comfort us in verses on the Scroll That make us feel thy grandest prize is near. Then thy ties, thy friendship, peace, God Himself, Will welcome us unto thy final sphere. THE CALL OF SORROW A Poem of Destiny THE CALL OF SORROW Beloved! In thine adversity there is Not one will call thee friend. When mortal heart Beats outward for the healing touch, the little Things for its easing never come. Sorrow Is an Exile, which hath no portion in the time And tale and scorching brain of selfishness. If thou hast webs of laughter and dangling gold, Or credit on the rich man s scroll writ deep, And in thy house a sense of feasts and affecta tion Unconfessed, then thou hast many friends; Thy life goes on with splendid tendence; Thou art a shepherdess in the golden lights. But a sudden pause in entertainment, its glows And sighs and wines and visions delicate; Or hearken with thy gifts and jewels and favorite Robes, dazzling the longest corridors ; 38 Collected Poems Then thou shalt be with less friends, lin gering In the sunlight, but each remembering. Let Sorrow come, the doorway of thy soul Flung open to the storm of life s great pain, Then thou must win another friend; Mad and knowing all, thy lords of pleasure Flash and elsewhere seek; thou art solitary, Untended, comfortless, and yet not ended. O Spirit of Sorrow! with such majestic cer tainty Dost thou come in on all things human; Thine august angel before the compact of Our life was signed, breathed far off in star- dust: Then our spirits quickened by the Word Of God, conceived and met thee. For a time We, clothed in mortal raiment, swoon to thy Bemoaning reeds and deepest chords of mis ery. Beloved, thy stirring bosom is besieged with grief, Sad sea-horizons of sorrow mystical, With wounds no human hand can ever close, Until thy soul beyond the ocean, weary, rests. The Call of Sorrow 39 Thy tear, each tear a solitaire, a pearl That vainly shimmers on the crimson reef Of pain, for a setting in the ring of Sym pathy! Lose Health, thy gold will twine in loneli ness; Thy most cherished arms that weaved about thy strength, In weakness waver; petals o er-blown fly On the wind away to stronger stems. If thou Art ill, ill unto death, a mother s love Alone will shine, that unadorned, profound, Unselfish love. The deeper falls the darkness Of thy life, the brighter is its calm Enduring warmth. Forever half in lightning And in gloom, the maternal star in brilliance Unafraid grows stronger in the firmament of Sorrow. Ah! If we could be the things we are, And not the things \ve have! Our chattels, Gold, and songs are in themselves a nothing ness, A glow that has a wasting flame, and yet Without, we are but ashes, living limbs, Wordless, handless, helpless, friendless, Groping for the spirit of Companionship. 40 Collected Poems Oft Sorrow, art thou Victory, crowned in poverty, In fallen fortunes and the emptiness of aid; A tale of bitterness on barren stone, Those pangs of pain and utter deprivation, The flesh in sighs of jealousy composed; To reach and grasp and suffer for the joys Of life, those wistful, dreamful joys of life Attained by luxury only. Feebly, step By step, the roaming of these starving souls Casts a shadow for a moment; then Unassuaged they soar away unto Oblivion. O Talisman of Sorrow, winged through aeons From the thunder of a Self-existent Mind! groan and cry in the anguish Of the angels mutinied; in human bodies Broken, torn and mangled on the arenas Of Roman persecution; in the twilight of bat tle fields, Woman s shame and man s hypocrisy, Unpraised achievement, kindred disappoint ment, Memoried achings, bitter tragic losses. With thine august mournful smile, what art Thou Sorrow, thy sunset strangely pathetic o er The Call of Sorrow 41 The world s most splendid lives; thy grief, regret, The vague centennials of thy shame? To saint And sin alike, thou dost cohere, Though weary is the heart within thy breast. Oh! Why does thy bleeding compact cover all? THE CALL OF DEATH THE CALL OF DEATH Last of myself I thought how hard to die; To pass without a tear into the stars; To leave this fiery glory-colored world of ours, And thy dear face; the doubt and dreadful fear When thrust out thence, to go I know not where. At times in truth, it seemed to me that I, Beloved, was wrought before the moon or sun, Before the fallen angels, darkness, light, creation; Oh! God, where was my soul, where did this body lie Before the cycles of eternity were run; The stars turned in their course without the sight of man? Beloved, come nearer. I am conscious still - Cold though I feel passing, passing on. Each chill Of life I have, breathes only on the sight Of thee; for see our love s fire has lit The flame of younger immortalities. 46 Collected Poems Tell me, when first thy soul confessed this love? No! not through thy tears I can feel above My heart, thy blood run to thy finger ends. Be not worn with grief or blasted by despair; If thou wouldst love me longer wed mem ory to prayer, The holy whispers of unsundered souls. Last of myself, I thought how hard to die,- Anguish in my anguish, through the gulf of space, Perhaps the fires of Hell a kindred serpent face. Soul naked now, in fears and sorrows all The actions of my life before me lie. Each past spoke angry word, a panic call In black-veiled voices of the great Unknown, A-flutter o er my head in horror shown. How can I leave these painted toys of earth, The memory of thy tears and sweetest mirth? Ah, come! Thy lips to kiss thy heart to love, Thine eyes to see! So near the mystic glow Of Death to feel is better than to know The Call of Death 47 Sweet touches, interchange, the sound of song, In swaying languors unrestrained. Come! e er I m robed in my immortal shape. Away my dreams of mystery in the throng Of yonder stars! Away these tears that drip and make My soul coward, afraid to sate thy fount of love, Fear-dumb by the nearness of oblivion! Thou couldst reconcile the farthest planets, Reweave the crumbling halls and fill the gap with stones, Breathe into the city s dead or broken bones Splendid newer lives ne er wrecked by sea or wind. Perhaps to-night will come Chaos in heaven, Which Perpetual Happiness cannot assuage; As I shall grow and grieve and call the past Along the way that leadeth back to thee, Until thy name is gilded on the Page. I ll fondly seek thee with immortal eyes, Out o er the azure distance pure with prayer, The song of sleep between thy soul and mine. 48 Collected Poems Moonbeams will kiss thy garden hedge, a hue In silver visions, that the pagans knew; And clouds made of my tears will rain my sighs Upon thy cheeks and lips and turn thy breasts To lilies. At times feel thee my passing breath, A quivering spirit crossed with bars of gold and crests, A joy, a pain, a prayer united in eternity. On, Death! Why do I fear thy doom and dazzle, Thy thunder-scar thy withered cheek? Where er I go, I was ever bound to go, My soul, at least, a gem in this decaying heap. Adieu my love, my life. Behold! I die! Once and no more Ah! make no cry! THE CALL OF ETERNITY THE CALL OF ETERNITY Beloved, thou shalt be with me to-night In Paradise! upon an emerald hill Paling the golden stars. Long have I wait- ed, A tale twixt earth and heaven; watched in patience, Love, ambition, and in prayer. Lonely Years upon my soul conjured the perished Days of earth, sculptured Time in the slowest Clay of History; eternal yearning Answered only by the sighs of stars. Be brave, Beloved, for soon thy pain shall pass, Bitter agony in azure ending. My spirit s close; the shadows lengthen; the life Beyond its puzzle now lies near. High on the pinnacle hang our destinies; And for the ages that come after, We ll not sigh. Be brave! Eternal joy Is safe from Death. Fear not these walled silences; 52 Collected Poems But weave the tapestries and silks of heaven. Be not sorrowed by the griefs of those now left Behind. Sweet is the oblivion of sleep, But sweeter far the sleep beyond oblivion. Then the rumour of thine illness cast Its death-lamp ray into eternity; Shed its argent irony as in The centuries before, the sprites of Pharaohs Gleaned from the perished cities of the Nile. The Euphrates dangled like a thread of gold Across the plains of sand, as Babylon Kings Spilled wine from their holy cups to gods Of brass, of bronze, of wood and stone, until That magic writing on the plaster of the wall. I was confused strangely sad, yet joyful Mid our colonnades of marble echoing With discussions of diviner things. A moment s wound of piteousness then I dreamed afar to earth. A song of day-dawn Sending words, a great phantasmal pageant Passed upon my spirit solitude: The burden of long-waiting years was lifting From my soul. Thy mystic breathing comes! The Call of Eternity 53 Thy presence soon will be another Sphere In Space; a gem rising in silence From star to star; lose sense and form; A name to mingle in eternity, Up-wrapped our souls together in one flame. We ll make merry in the jests of constellations, Across the golden sands, and timeless shore; Nor count the passing hours save to compute How they make a closer oneness of us twain. Thou shalt be a princess in a pearled City, entertained by angels unawares: Kings and queens will pay thee homage From the dynasties of Babylon to Napoleon. Thou shalt be mine Empress, o er whose great Domain thy softened whispers thunder in the sky. Forever now thou art to me commended: This body feels thy rays last touch, - Thy soul recessed thine eyes, dim urns of sleep. Beloved, I have died and gazing back at life Know whereof I speak. I cannot, dare not Tell thee more. Later, within This very house to-night some kindly friend 54 Collected Poems Will kiss thy brow, deck thee with ornaments, Incense, burning candles, and the sweetness of Scattered flowers. Thou wilt be a memory Of beauty. They will discuss the sallies of thy wit And past accomplishments. But from me thou Shalt be learning thy spirit s grandest consum mation. HEAVEN AND MEMORIES HEAVEN AND MEMORIES Welcome, my Beloved, to Paradise !- The portal ending thy sad mortal span; Past griefs and shadows, all thy wanderings, Deep buried in Divine Immensity. Thy shining eyes and once remembered smile Waft mystic winds and seething sprays of souls, - The murmuring of our Love s Oblivion Flung o er the arches of eternity. Wan wreaths evoke the labyrinths of spirits Deepest reaches. My lips, with God s, im press A holy kiss upon thy brow communion Of thy soul with mine: Benediction touches us twain - The apparelling of phantoms no passage here But those of angels, consecrated to their God. At thy death last night, Beloved, my presence watched Aside thy bed. Clasped thee close, much lov ing, 58 Collected Poems More, so much more than thou knewest. I Now glimpsed along thy wall s empaling grief Soft footsteps the heart-aches of thy friends below. This very Heaven rocks in recollection! I kissed thy fevered brow and lilied cheeks. Afar the grieving stars dripped tears, tender Lights came down to bear thy soul away. "Does she move, or breathe?" "Speak Speak!" The frailty of thy life, in distance fading, An inward victory by an outward loss. t Sleeping, thou wert austerely beautiful And yet sublimely sad, thy blood in crimson Passioning pale and fearful of eternity. Hark! the angels greeting, half -veiled blended Cadences to Immortality, Hidden choristers divinist prayer, A soul s soft winding clue of melody! This strange device of music magic in The touch of God upbears us in this time less Tide, where ages are but strains that mingle Heaven and Memories 59 In eternal waves and fade in stresses, On the triads of the Infinite. My soul s a dwelling now for memory, Sweet even in the palace door of Heaven. What meshes have I woven for thy spirit? Weaved perhaps beneath a younger sun, Weaved in truth before that sun was ever wrought From off the Blazing Fabric of yon Deity! Thine eyes were fountains in their cradle days, To break the drought of sombre Destiny. Scarce were our souls conceived before the stars, Than Heaven was our final trysting place. Beloved, thou art an inspiration, with Immortal hands decked in rubies which The fiercest suns could woo. Unimpassioned Beauty in a royal flame, thy life Is ever in its mirthful infancy And still in thought supreme. E er changing visions Pass, laughing strangely, but so pure in mood. Through groves of jeweled nets, o erhang the ripened Counsels of felicity frail 60 Collected Poems But fadeless tender leaflets never drooping, Plastic spirits in immortal texture, - An iridescent, opal, mystic, dreamful dream ing; All joy, all reticence and prayer enact And chant the mystery of the Trinity. My snow-white swan upon an azure river, In languors thou shalt ever be caressed, - A silken stream through an emerald vale, Brightly vast, shadows quivering to The falls of sleep. Thou hast the ecstasy Of seeking, on the flow of Perfect Happiness attained, Tranquil intermissions in repose, Foam-bells teeming o er eternal Play. Still, still I peer in wistful membrances, O er tree-tops neath the stars to mortals earth. Thy face, thy human voice, breath as tiny Flakes of snow, wonder-filled in merriment! Can st thou not remember from afar A little girl all shaking down her curls; The garden of thy country-side, where the first Dream petals of our love broke flower; whis pers, Heaven and Memories 61 The secret kiss, the summer s afternoon, The old pergola twined in climbing rose, Thy tender arms around my shoulders thrown ; Farewells repeated o er and o er; rippling Sounds, the evening green, with sweeter sweet ness In the air, our senses ecstasy, The caressive touches of thy hands a fire Unto thy finger tips thy soul into my soul? Twas a wondrous tale of wondrous love! Ah! Even here thy spirit eyes are tremulous In tears. I dreamed of Allah s Paradise, Stripped bare thy beating heart to flower there. No, No ! Thou need st not worry lest I say it - Though memory is oft the greatest ritual Of enduring joy. A master-mistress Of a bliss that s past, reflecting makes Eternal bliss that s now. As we are minded So our lives have been erstwhile Beloved, Could we be here in Paradise? Were this Profane that I recall it all unroll In Heaven such tapestries of human love? Twere useless dear to try and break the spell. I think these very memories are parts 62 Collected Poems Of that great Spark Divine, the ashes of The past on incense-pyres of Happiness, Urns of sweetest bliss from other worlds, Cinders into beauty from the grave Blown on breezes to eternity, Soft-mysticism amber glow of moonlight Rich with shadows of an Orient night. Beloved, adoring sadness in thy melodies, Still all compensative was their tenderness. In jewelled draperies around thee, bending low, Thy beauty yielded beauty to the Dawn. Dipped in passion as the rose, thy form, Its perfume then was but the incense of thy soul. These Immortal Tides are long enough to sing And glow around the chalice of a perfect hour. In sweetest liquor of the "times that were" Accept a drop from o er a crimson rim The Sacrament was vowed upon His shrine. Our wedding day! October morn the an cient Church with vines on stones a-creeping ver dant Trees, scattered blossoms lullabies Heaven and Memories 63 Of mating birds! Oh! I thought, my bride, that noon I walked the golden highway of the stars: My soul dreamed naught could be as such is here to-day. Come! kneel. Beloved, in one appeal, though succor Is not needed or denied; nor loss Of one another s gain cradled in Divine Equality. A garden s round Our souls for whispering to Him no words Of pleading here to solve prayer s mystery. Eternal magic in eternal air, Eternal music o er eternal prayer! Closer spirits, closer angels, closer Souls still closer, thee, Beloved! Majestic Heaven! fill our beings, thy floods in solemn Harmony uplift us to thy realms Untrod, thence thy sun-rays whirl us to The cloud, where throned in His Omnipo tence sits God! POEMS OF LOVE AND PASSION A PROPOSAL Beloved, I love thee! With such words wouldst thou Have further pleading? Thou canst o er- hear the beating Of my heart. Take it, and give me in Exchange thy soul! The unexpected mov- ings Of our lives should henceforth be together. Be my wedded wife: put in my arms What Fate decreed mine own, calm days of peace, And sweetest ecstasies, one heart, one honour. Death through cycles in one day elapse; Through centuries our souls together soar away. Yet it seems, Beloved, we ve loved before: Oh! canst thou not remember a sort of palace Casement, nine hundred and a thousand years Ago? The little hill of Calvary loomed 68 Collected Poems Three crosses gainst the sky. Perhaps we met, Even when the Spirit of God breathed life Into a planet, and the moon first dimmed In cold tranquility the day, the wild stars Later bathed the blacker harmony of night. Canst thou feel the memoried ache of my Embraces perhaps some Prince of Egypt I, Like those strange men portrayed in histories, Or in the pictures hanging here upon the wall? Thou sat upon a stately bed, thy jewels A-shiver as pearls upon the shallow Reefs beneath the glitter of the rising sun. We might recall old Socrates, wisdom, Joy and pleasure, aeons drunk with Eastern Passion, pompous temples, doors of beaten gold, An Alexandrian sky blinking with a million eyes. Ah! even in that day, thy spirit hungered; But all without the everlasting Bread of Life. But whether or no, thou didst caress the kings Of distant stars, before this Earth was mould ed Poems of Love and Passion 69 Into Space; or thou wert cherished by A Babylon prince in the derision of A heathen dawn, I know now, that thou art mine! In life, in love, in soul, unto Eternity! THREE WORDS Beloved! I love thee! Ah, what an essay in Three words writ down in fire from off a golden Quill, a sentence stole from out the rifled Treasury of my soul. No magic art E er yields a cure for love no stone-age Monuments outlive the masonry That thou dost weave about my heart. Thou shalt be my day-dawn in eternity, My sunrise round the sapphire cup of Heaven. I feel thine auburn hair and kiss thy lilied Cheek, whose whiteness breaks to rose. Be loved, The fields of life are sprinkled for our joy. I understand the pulse from o er thy secret soul; I learn the languors of thine unseen sea; No real world anywhere but in thine arms, Where earth becomes a ruby in Love s crown, And from its setting leaps into a flame. Poems of Love and Passion 71 Thy voice is magical each word a vision Versed in stanzas of divinest symmetry. Thine eyes two dynasties of wondrous pow er- Urns oft-times perhaps in quiet slumber- Great gems as suns upon the breast of day. Behold! the galleons of our love! Last night!- Shall I forget it e er I die those dreams Of mine, which now have all come true? A chamber Rich in tapestries as Arabs spin, Perfumed with fragrance of an Orient bloom! A maze and glow and mystic quivering, A dreamful joy in sweeter raptures ending! Thou there, Beloved in all supreme sur render, Loose thy hair in soft profusion hanging, One sleeping wave of bliss to oceans waken ing, - Three words upon each crest of passion burning! IDYLL Sweet hour of Night, within thy solitude - Thy wandering sleep and silent course ad vanced In realms occult and overruling power, I met a woman, angel pure and like A dove in tint and melody, her wings Unfolded on nocturnal sands through air allured To solitary caves and darker woods. We strolled a-near a cool rillet background A garden kiosk canopied in flowers, Twixt grottoes dimly glittering with a shelly floor. The Night s eclipse of phantoms, dreams, and rest Was stirred and lit in mystic parts by touch Of stars and lidless eyes of moon. The silver Stream laughed out aloud then played a song Keyed high upon such rippling undercurrents, As waked the fairies from the bank and glen. Poems of Love and Passion 73 Our thoughts were written on the velvet sheen, And through the fringes of the forest shone An after-glow which crept to vibrant har monies. O er-hanging shadows, silent, vast and fra grant With perfumes, wafted strangely near, in half- awed Dreamy moods, mid tangled vines and brush: Above the shooting stars and destined spheres Were strayed in limitless oblivion. Carelessly we kissed with soft caress, Our spirits gliding from tranquility, While round us weaved a thousand gentle forms, In binding chains of complex passions rife. The dance of twin lights from intensest eyes, A thought suppressed then mingling of the breath, Glowing and glowing, and closer and still more close - All visions lost to me in Happiness. Night s silver canopy of clouds unrolled, Shredded and flown adown to tree tops high; Then whispered Love along the fretted shore, From o er the waves of future heritages. TRANSCENDENT LOVE In all the world, the greatest thing is Love, Through shadowed sorrow to eternity - A touch of more that is, and e er shall be, At whose Beyond we may not know, but feel Her vestal guardians of Happiness, Jeweled arms and cymbals held aloft As pagan spirits on a fairy craft, Sail crests of seas, where passions ebb and flow, In rhythmic tumult of unconscious grace. Truth drops her veil before the wand of Love, As the flower from silken petal breaketh forth In dawning glow and veins of liquid fire, Magic, amethystine, rich and deep, In forest aisles and dancing disks of sunlight: Then whirlwinds gulf into a quietude, Upon sweet undercurrents, mystic, thin, That bid all Nature from her sleep awake, To sing the songs which only Love can sing. By disappointed faith and fortune s wrong, I drop anon into the ebon Past, Poems of Love and Passion 75 O er some far silent sea I never knew To roofs in Nineveh and Babylon. Above the stars droop jewel-wise, as velvet Water lilies breathe their argent raptures In the night. A-near the sands of a desert Whirl into the entrance of my tent Delirious mirage of pagan Love. I feel her black curls touch me scented zephyrs O er my soul, reversing fate on fragrant Wings. Chaldeans girdled in vermilion - Eternal spirit of the woman in rippling Laughter overflow and wound each other Unaware. Night to dawn lights lengthen Concubines in robes of multicolor, Eyes all lustrous in consuming gaze, Quaff deeply in this ancient Cup of Bliss. If anything be greater than the gods, Tis Love! She dwells in Eden still, where ages Of Eastern Passion made her hue, and taint less Lips to kiss the magic hours of All Time its hurricanes and spectres so Perplexed adown the darkest centuries, To the Asiatic dawn on Calvary. 76 Collected Poems Awakened now, her angels wings are seen Warm, sunburnt, beneath the Present skies, In touch of which the purest spirits meet And Heaven itself, with all its joys brought near By the sound in trumpet call Transcendent Love. THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE Love came triumphant to my soul last night, As music breathes from Heaven s noblest sphere - A tender, careless, acquiescent flight, Mist-veiled in ringlets of a thousand curls. She then, I know well, ends the world s de spair, The aching loss in souls from deepest pain To ecstasy of love and Love s great ties- Her joys, her quests, and sovereign disdain, Dark eyes, ruby lips, and teeth of pearls To melting words, as soft as summer s air. The yielding sweet expression of her face, From soft converse in smiles, to love-gemmed tears Of Passion like the season, wildered heart and place. I gazed and gazed again, my every glance Like lightning on her brow: brief space to years Weaved in her treasured, sun-gold wondrous hair. 78 Collected Poems Listless there, dream-drowsy in a perfumed trance Encircled by my arms lies Love. Sweet sur render! A maze of misty flame sun-splendor! Tis that, I know, makes all the world so fair. Soft-footed Asiatics trailed this Love, Greeks ankleted, in gems or togas bright; As old her slaves as those w r ho watch above Peplum purpling and rich balconies o night Adown the winding stairs of History. Mystery strange, sleep-swaying scents through Lips, rose-liquor that the sphinxes knew; Beauteous eyes and cheeks the angels have caressed, Hers was the perfume o er the martyrs shrine; By theme and song her tenderest mood ex pressed. Oh! Past, well dost thou know this Love of mine! MY LOVE Dearest, there is no one above thee that I love! That is my answer now and for All time. Remember this through coming suns! Remember this before our Final Judge! Before the treasure He has given us, To mould our deeds for His all just Assize. What use to so pretend and hide the truth? Thou standest to me alone as soul is joined to soul, Heart, brain, body, all in life or dream Neath paling stars and singing winds at dawn, To waving plains where flame-like flowers bloom, And vanish with us on the wings of night. Sweetest eyes that I have ever seen, Are there such stars in all the firmament, Or seas more conscious of such wondrous rays? Youthful laughter, fearless, frank, and free! 80 Collected Poems Weeping each tear is but a gem light ning Skies into a flame of everlasting Day. Life and Death agree that I have loved Thee, in those farthest ages, where Man and Earth Were still the Breath of God, and souls were merely Vapors in a Space all planetless. There we dreamed of fabled lands in mystic chrism Plucked Love from out the brighter particles of star-dust. Can I ply my feelings as I think of thee- Earth responding to a heaven s smile, A halo o er each thought in blissful-setting Those aches of partings, or that thou dost suf fer For a moment in the countless ends That call me from thy presence? Oh! loyal troth ! I bless thy name, thy touch, the tender ca dences Of thy voice golden harmonies .in the stresses Poems of Love and Passion 81 Of Life s Pain. It takes courage in my heart To realize that thou are mine, but still, Still greater courage to know that thou must leave Me for the realms of unconjectured space, A dimming land, where sad-eyed ghosts walk only. Thy cheeks to snow in paling Death, those eyes Twin urns of sleep, thy gorgeous-winged soul, Like some strange bird, sweeps up in silent flight To waiting angels and their whispered tales. Oh love, my love! In thy twilights take me, Bird of Death, To her that makes the music all things sing, O er time, o er space, o er height, o er depth beyond Unto the rich-crown jeweled seat of Paradise. LAST NIGHT, BELOVED! Last night, Beloved, I saw thee in a dream, With tears of wistful wonder in thine eyes, Unfolded petals, pearled with silvery sheen, All tender, mystic, luminous of Love s skies. Adown from stars to night-wrapt hidden things, Thine ebon locks and breath, like incense- wings, In soft confusion intertwined my soul. Deep longing, clinging glance to tremorous roll, In subtle scents of Moorish paradise, Strange emotions, frantic mad desire A ray of bliss, a kiss akin to fire! Then all my secrets grew defined in shape, To worship thee, for just great Worship s sake. Closer pressed we in serene ascension, Twining hair, alluring arms, in blushing wake Up-burning in the glowing halls of Passion. Poems of Love and Passion 83 Veined rich through marble tints before my sight, Mid shadows lengths of languor unrestained, I watched thy Beauty yield with fond delight. From olden years, so long ago now waned, I heard thy sweetest music e er unsate: Eternal were we twain therein combined Through space afar not Time s, but Love s sublime. COULD I FORGET! Ah! Could my wakening spirit but forget The pain, the pang, and wrong and vain re gret That fills my life s horizon, a sense of wings A-rift into the peerless golden cloud Of Love; her mists extinguished; broken strings O er beauty flesh and blood, night-wrapt and proud, Touched with the jeweled fingers from the sorrower s arm; Nearer, yet nearer, secret sad alarm, Thirsting anguish, chill of hopeless grief, In sunset skies where daylight now hath fled. Dumb the lips and breath that gave relief, And crowned my life with all its gentle grace; Those arms that softly twined, warm, tur quoise veined Around me such hours never more re gained! So far away the laughter, song and glee, Poems of Love and Passion 85 The up-surge in the world tides distraught Of other scenes in olden days, care free, In passion measureless trembling caught Foam-flung, twixt boundless oceans unre strained! So tired of struggle, stress, strife and pain, As back the shoreless sea, and back again Its darkening glens and half-concealed things! The numbing fragrance of the Past her eyes Laid on me with the weight of destinies! Love s glow, sweet touch, close-merging soul embrace Brings Heaven itself, with all its joys o er head To throbbing whispers; tender heart-beats set So partly human but more part divine. Ah! Could my wakening spirit but forget My Love now dead, but once so wholly mine! CONSUMMATION In a garden, soul to soul we met and loved Listless languor by stone-parapets, Leaf-dance ripple, sense of minor thirds, Stars above, a language not of words; Vows and raptures life s sweetest flowerets. Roving minstrels strolled unto the feasts, Our thoughts upon their strings in tinselled air, To woodlands where clove-footed gods had sung; Where consenting dear Companionship had rung From bells that melted tenderly to prayer. Afar o er dale translucent waters moved, Enthralling sounds through sequence of the hours. I was the Night and she the Moonlit-Glow, Her curls all ill-arranged and veil so low, O er Passion wakening in this love of ours. I m still the Night and there s the Moonlit- Glow, But as I see her ebb in Time s great sky, Poems of Love and Passion 87 No more the sweetness of her love-wrung ray. That chaste white face is now conjured to clay Of hardest light. Erewhile, alone am I. With crawlings o er me, numbness in the air, Upon my throat, my breast, my arms, my hair, Gliding skeletons arise to sight In elfish weeds and wands of swirling light The horrors of a Beauty vilely used, Staring, ever doomed to stare such hues Down-bending Parasite of circumstance. Shimmering procession and a giddy dance That overcrests the pathway of the clouds, Revels nebulous, that cheat the days In look malign and cold accusing gaze; Silver drooping rays of compromise, False most gems that shine beneath the stars; Phantasmagoria and a soulless glance, Waveless waters and my eyes are fed On a Moonlit-Glow: twere better Death would wed. CONSOLATION I watch at eve thy bright inquisitive eyes As slowly wane the twilight hours away, In conquering sense and tender earthly ties, To mystic night bedewed in silver ray. The vine-leaf shades around us flower to flower Sip a store from thyme and inmost bower. Love seems abroad and all of thee a part In murmurous secrets of the growing night. I feel the warm blood beat about my heart, Like waves overflowing summer seas, fleece- white Mist-thin surge, around a wrecked ship s beam From off whose drooping mast past sorrows gleam. There let those billows try to soften doom; The leaden years no charms can ever lift, But sink and sink with Time into the tomb, Crushed thence in anguish, echoes of my Love adrift On mimic smiles, false joys in endless quest That only Death may bring at last to rest. Poems of Love and Passion 89 No! No! Why think of that with thee so near? Be this our dwelling this pale silent night, Whose walls they touch not, who know love less dear. Some bond of Nature draws me to this light Of a thousand thousand petals in moon-eyed bliss, A bed of roses lilies then thy kiss. How can it matter now that Love of mine, This useless pining o er things vanished, dead- A Past bereaved, which should have been divine In custom living, side by side, instead? To deeply love -- tis never to be sent Full Consolation e en for an hour lent. Oh, upstart lips that speak pretentious lies Mid all the venom of a warring world, Your kiss is but a touch that I despise, So near the Sorrow of those sails now furled! Thy face is hideous in the silvered light Of a Love now gone, but mine all mine, by Right! 90 Collected Poems Come, Sorrow, let us hence some quiet land, Burn thy noble torch and bear it high; Feel no compunction on a jasmine-scented sand, For they are grain on which all loves will die. We may be bruised and wrapped in suffo cating pain, But with Honour, Truth, and Destiny not slain. I OFTEN THINK I often think, were I to die, dear, To sleep, to feel, to pray there in that Realm, So far away, Some thrill of tender sympathy, We had had, or dreamed, or known, or loved, We two alone, Would startle, then recarry me From Exile back to Life again. I often think, were I in my grave, dear, Beneath the forest deep or vine-clad walls, Thine eyes in grief Would drop seeds of such sweet sorrow That my heart would rise break into a rose, And recognize Thy tears of Love upon its petals, As the richest jewels from Paradise. LOVE S APPEAL In vain, in vain, I try to tell thee, dear, My love. I choose the sweetest words, that e er were writ Above The notes of cadenced harmonies to thrill Thy heart, Attune the tend rest measures of my soul Apart From this great world of waste and pain, so dreary, Dark With hates and greeds and blaze of war. In vain, in vain, I try to tell thee, dear, Through tears That drip from eyes at night, wearied and sad With fears That thy forgotten love, in arms rebelled May die; Erewhile when ills and sorrows, moist regrets Are nigh To thee, this bleeding heart in veins of Hate May cry, Poems of Love and Passion 93 In memories of those raptures, vain entreaties, Woes, Then burn itself in torturing flames til Death s Last throes Will quench the fire that once was Love divine. POEMS OF EGYPT, ETC. THE SPELL OF EGYPT There s a splendid hush about this place, A seal upon these ancient mysteries Of Nile and star and Cleopatra s face. O mighty Pyramid, empurpled in thine Omnipotence! Thou art not the work Of mortal man, but the huge Conception of a spirit Diadem d upon the Sand of Time. Mosques with your passion for prayer, Sphinx with thy passion for silence, Bazaars with your passion for gain, Streets with your passion for music And pleasure enter ye all into my soul, That I may feel my first infiltration of anoth er life. Egypt! Why dost thou engrave thyself So strangely on the tablets of my mind? Dost thou channel through my veins to gain a dream Or to regain lost dreams of old? 98 Collected Poems Art thou here to help me lose a creeping sor row, Or to recreate in me the rapturous ecstasy of bygone passion ; Or art thou present merely to make me un derstand the treasures Of Romance and of History that breathe with in thy bosom? DREAM O NILE Egyptian baccharis! I dream a dream Through topaz glow, in the chalice of thy royal mysteries : I lay o er barge upon the Nile, and glean The agony of thy fading centuries. A fluttered flight with eyes wide o er to see, I dropped anon into entangling twilights, Past nymphs in gossamer gowns out-floating free, Where other forms and forces try to solve The laughter in thy Labyrinths the silvered nights Around thy granite temples, thence evolve To gardens flecked with robes in Ptolemys rites. Adown these shimmering mystic paths I walked ; To painted kings and jewelled queens I talked, In irised chambers of old revelry. I sipped from cups moulded o er the Chryso lite; IOO Collected Poems Played hide and seek with rapturous Aphro dite; Pressed amorous lips and caressive breasts all ivory. Nubians with flowers and with peacock fans, Adrift is Cleopatra and her love-bought bliss: The jealous moon winks back her tears and wanes : The queen athirsts for power in the Roman s kiss. Low a purple lilac o er the Nile, Strangely chill the sandy winds tonight; Richest monuments and pylons there erewhile, And cold red obelisks of dead divinities; Satyrs a-creep from out the Sphinx s eyes, and sight To me on senseless stones great Histories. Afar to Lybian desert a lute string trilled. Drowned by the winged sweep of Basilisk; A-near a crocodile the air in terror filled; Peered o er the banks the monster Hippo- grifTs. I saw the stars all trembling in the heaven, Wan wreaths around the Monoliths atwist: Poems of Egypt, Etc. 101 From amber foam of Nile I counted seven, As birds flew out the temples weary glyphs. The Pyramids huge, fiercely black in hue, Stood half way down in moonlit silver rayed, Mighty diadems of Ancients thew; Within Sarcophagi e er mummies sprites a-preyed. Hushed and silenced by the splendor of this view, Struck fear dumb I my Dream O Nile dis mayed. O River, sleep swaying scents in thy wafted tresses, Past vanished all away thy dynasties "That Were," Same are thy ways and still thine old caresses: Souls rise and rise History rests upon thy myrrh. TO THE SPHINX I sat at eve time on the Lybian sands, And watched Night s shadows creep from up the Nile In languorous attitudes for Egypt s rest. Above, the Sphinx purred o er the dark-ning lands, Reaching skyward in a great caress Across the Age of Mystery. I rose and stood beneath a Peristyle: She stooped and pressed me there, erewhile, Against her Breasts of History. FAREWELL, O EGYPT! The pink-pearl blush of dawn crept o er our barge And Alexandria. From silver-fretted Night mid shifting glooms, the quivering palms Twisted in spirals on the desert s edge; The moon had paled and drowsed to saffron dust; The stars now closed their diamond eyes and wept, Then fled to shelter as Day touched the sky. O Egypt, sullen gray, supreme in Time! From off this prow thine echoes burst in flame, Lit by the torch of History, each in turn Full in the arena of this blood-stained world. Still from shadoof and sakieh rimmed in gold, Sing this dawn to us thy memories Of archetypal dreams and loveliness, Of Ra, and Rameses and Basilisk; Of Cleopatra and her drones a-bed Beneath the ambient chambers of the moon; 104 Collected Poems Of Osiris, Isis, and of Antony, Palm-embroidered from patrician Rome. Farewell thy Pyramids, farewell thy Sphinx, Crouching in dead desires and brooding si lence; Farewell terrific temples abysmal lament From a by-gone world mysterious tombs, despairs Of all the perished races of the earth, Cased in mummies or in water sunk. Farewell thy lateen sails and tiny islands, Kissed by the lips of Histories away. Farewell brown children of the curved Nile, Your hammocks, floats, your crocodile, your songs, Your prattling truths and dreams in dynasty Of Griffins twain and jewelled wine betwixt. Farewell the patter of the donkey s feet, A-near the dragomen and drab bazaar. Farewell snake charmers and thy courtesans, With crystal breasts and eyelids powdered blue Mid writhes and twists of teeming populace. Farewell thine Obelisks thy sands of Ghizeh, Poems of Egypt, Etc. 105 Thy hieroglyphics and thy prophecies, Thy minarets and mosques in sunset prayer: Farewell immortal, sad, O sacred Egypt, Phantasmagoria of a world that s dead, Yet diviner thou through every century. THE ANGEL OF MADEIRA Each eve I lie a-musing on Madeira s hills, Erewhile below the sea-tales full of mystery: The Life that was my Love has flown o er waves and rills, Into the jeweled shrine of God s Eternity. By night and day she sleeps here in a church yard, features cold Beneath the sable robes of Death, immortal Beauty Majestic sweet, all gleams of earthly glories rolled In long-lost loves, to sacred greater purity. From purple domes and stately towers, Fun- chal s sunlight Gilds her grave in saffron garb; flowers, half- hidden In the mosses green, fleck our lore of love laden With the rarest dew of Paradise. Disguised at night In mazes, opal, iridescent and benign, Poems of Egypt, Etc. 107 These petals peer a nest of glow-worms - o er her mound, Whispering the saddest requiem of human kind. Suddenly towards moon-rise, deep slumbers all around, In grieving winds and ebbing tides suffused with tears, Came the fairest angel, poised in flowery Wings and draperies round her drooping low; background An architrave with higher temple front, subtly Wrought in flaunted lace and silver tinted vine. The thinnest veil obscured her face: nearer she drew And gazed; in radiance stooped as mortal maid ; entwined My neck, caressed my cheek, then kissed my lips a chaste Sweet kiss, soft and warm and thrilled with life. Her face She turned, then slipped away as adown the brighter circle of the moon A chariot appeared: she rose from sylvan hill. io8 Collected Poems Too soon Are nimble joys of youth by newer sorrows rent, As dark processions dissolve a dream from Heaven, sent To awake o er the myrtle grave Time alone has lent. ALGIERS Gold-vestured suns and silver-fretted nights O er Algiers Allah s sonnet in the tongue of France, Afric Paris, frenetic with the Marabout, A-pointed columns in the air, First languors of the East and fair With bright illusions, flecked enkindling sights, Mosques and kiosks harlots thro yakmak a-glance, Polyglot zig-zagging streets to turbaned rue! O Sensuous city! How subtly weird thy spell! Background, translucent sea of dreamland blue; Thy minarets in tapers to the sky; Bedouin inns and clanking dice, Cythereas, drab dancing girls to tice The dragomans, gendarmes and rake-hell; Thy turquoise noons to twilight bronze imbue Thro architraves, thy villas laced to gardens high. no Collected Poems Topaz yellowing to sunset crimsoning, Gilded muezzins call the prayer, Down-floating magic in the air O er mosques nestled into moonlight silvering. Fair Southern Cross a-trembling, An irised mystic quivering To strange emotions soothing, A distant cry and droning, A castanet a-clanging Algiers! inch Allah! sleeping! WAR AND MISCELLANEOUS POEMS A SOLDIER S FAREWELL Beloved, farewell! Tis an ancient tale this call To arms the grappling will of man to War, The mind to mingle in a sense of massacre, To reek with blood and clamor for destruc tion; The earth a wilderness of steel to cut, Deface, ensnare, destroy antiquity - The sanctuaries of the silenced centuries. It must be so, Beloved. Yet, O my God! To burn thy suffering away to ashes, Rather far those Rhenish Huns should lay Me low in quailing flesh, the world a heri tage Of woe, and fiercest emphasis of rage O erride the greatest cities of heroic Dawns, and scourge the fields with wildest carnage, Than the vision of this pain aglitter in thine eyes. 114 Collected Poems Beloved, weep not think more of gentle hands To soothe the ache of centuries into The intercourse of everlasting love, Our marriage here in sunset waning thy sad Possession s but a memory until The holy years of undivided souls Wake fragrance in the rain of Paradise. Each dawn bear to thee sweeter strengths, soft fires Of faith, to curl in incense o er the shores Of Time griefs in angels voices ending, Through the flowering fields and singing stars, that pulse The arteries of God s transcendent mercy. In thy days of coming solitude, thy hair Shall \veave in silver, thy face empale to Death, Ending surface things but to receive Their impress final touchings unawares, Immortal kisses in eternity. Awake our France! At last thy time has come To make a fiery trial of thy great strength. For forty years, thou hast abided in A dreadful patience for this day, weeping War and Miscellaneous Poems 115 And waiting stung beyond commiseration Thy people s memory thy vengeance for Sedan. God stands surety for thee in Heaven, As the glitter of thine armour mirrors Hell For those who dare oppose thy legions now. Show thine imperial strength and sovereign power; Beneath the stillness of these stars, thy fury Breathes intense to beckon death in royal honour. A splendid oneness in thy politics, There s no alarm and anguish in thy tread, Friedland and Austerlitz age-long thy wit nesses. Revenge our France! That sting thy vic tory hence! Farewell, farewell, our little cottage in The sheltering green! Farewell, my wife! thy soul My rose upon the battle-plain each wound A petal on the bleeding stem decreed To flower in Immortality. VICTOR JOFFRE! The summers night was falling o er the Marne, In war-like visage scenes of darkest hue. The ancient river waileth with a charm, Reflecting, blaze on blaze, the fiery view Of thousands, by the millions ranged to fight In empty groves and sanctuaries red With blood. Paris waited in her plight, Patient, all majestic, calm and splendid, Through those maddening hours of uncer tainty. Earth and Hell in masterful embrace, Amazed all mortal birth. Anxiety Upon a seat supreme, watched her face Withered in the loud discordant deep, Profoundly changing from ideal to doubt, As goring engines shrieked and crushed and reaped. Men and horses armour interlaced, Cursing, creeping, swimming, wading, sink ing, War and Miscellaneous Poems 117 With heads all skull-like voices all con fused, O er torsos, scaled fingers gory joining. A distant crash, to carnage and to strife Beneath the trembling light of pallid moon, Where ages past were masked, then brought to life A double range of horrors there exhumed. The shades of kings like Attila arise In ruddy reflex cross his Chalon-plain, Where nights exaggerate the giant size Of human shapes, and mustering ranks aflame, From phantoms charnel house to warriors , shout. A-sudden midst these teeming Hellish eyes, A central figure stood; said "Turn about!" And drew himself in profile terrible, As fortune swelled and swayed to coming rout Uncertain still, for victory horrible. Those words instant were mightier than arms, For whose command in fire grand France awoke Transfused in bloody wreaths, and deep alarms That echoed forth to Heaven. His legions broke Ii8 Collected Poems Upon the Hun pursued and vanquished, gulfed In Chaos. There calm and stern, stood Victor JofTre. OUR FLAG IN THE DESERT A piastre, O night! for a crust of mirth Mid sorrow, plight, and war grown salutary. A piastre, O moon! thou withered dame of lustrous Ray, for the swooning tresses of youthful fire That teemed like the skins of snakes in gold. A piastre, O stars! with the lidless eyes for your lights Of love, and gleams of prayer and joys that curled In the children s hair, in the dreams of youth mid the things That lived to the w r hir of the things that are. A piastre, O desert! with thy sandy floor, With thy blasting blizzard and caravan, For the Wizard of Peace, though his eyes are dimmed In the blazing and streaming of war; For there s a Flag with Stars on thy cold grey face And Stripes interweaving to strangle old Mars. 120 Collected Poems A piastre, O night! stars, desert, and moon! Soon kissed by these colours that wave in far lands, - France, Belgium, Italia, and Egypt, per chance The Oasis of Peace will rise there in the sands. LIFE S FALLACY All seeming hollow, all thy joys are naught! When deem st thou fortune is within thy hand, Its golden wings and heralds athwart thy way, The lowlier bed of sickness yawns for thee : The House of Death cannot be bought with wealth. The lamps of honour are pretentious lights, But darken quickly in the vicious Draught. Pledge a piastre for the truth of this, - With joys thou hast thy friends in webs, With griefs thou weavest alone in heart. WHERE FLOWN, O PEACE? O Peace, that lies within Beloved Arms Of Fate, part of whose Will we are, In a world of Chaos stumbling, yearning for Thy throbs of Joy and Light. Tis vain this badge Of blood, this vengeance, storm, and plague that bind And strike thy sons to-day, red spurting out Of orphaned mouths, while fiends and furies rush To make a Hell-Home in the Dreams of God. Where flown, O Peace, mid voiceless echoes crying "Dead and dead!" -these denizens and soul less shapes And torpors, tombstones gaunt and white That empty Future of all heritages? Where art thou mid this burn and waste neath heavens Deaf to anguished cries lock-lipped and rid ing War and Miscellaneous Poems 123 To o er conquer Time? Where art thou on That boundless sea, that Life s great vessels sailed Before the winds of calm Intelligence? Where lost thine anchor in this seething surf Of warring men, that beat a phantomed air Of lacerated souls and mangled hearts? Where flown thy flowers, dells, and rippling laughter, Thy warbling birds and dancing children s feet? Where are thy clustering vines, thy hamlets astir With valiant knights, half-dreaming over Na ture s Fields, thy lakes that dazzled beneath the sky Along whose shores, in fragrance full of dam ask-rose, White-winged swans made cradle of the waves? Surely, Great Peace, thou hast not left the earth, Her domes and palaces so bathed in red, Which once thy touch of love and genius lent! Return Environment with clarion note 124 Collected Poems And hurl these Shades from off thy chiseled brow That rive thy body and thy soul apart. Cities, rivers, mountains veined in blood! Battlefields and prisons reeked in gore! Grinning skeletons, dead in Ambition s shriek! Morbid Mirror! feasting in curses and with Burning brow hide thy scarlet furrowed face! Where flown, O Peace? Sweet Halo, come and break Yon smile of iron lips nightmared from out the mouth of Hell. TO MY FATHER I kneel, my father, here beside thy grave Of tender careless myrtle, grown In the setting suns of five and twenty years Now past forevermore, from this sad earth; My mind still full of thee, therefore still noble. Could words express the story I ve to tell thee Of this my life, or what I ve left to live? Shut not thy soul against thy son s appeal, When all this world to-day cries out so loud; But as thou art my godlike father still, And wouldst have me come to a life as thine - Listen with tender fondness on my sorrows: Then from those eyes that I did worship so, Let fall some tears of pity and of love, Wounded a little, by the sufferings I relate Of unregarded oaths and trusts so broken In lies, hypocrisies, and frailties Of womanhood its rotting weeds and brok en boughs, Though sacraments and faithfulness were pledged; 126 Collected Poems The blind progression and reverse result On this vile earth of war, the petty jangling For everlasting fames and shameless prides. Life, ask life tis wretchedness and poverty To breathe e en for a few years longer here! Thou who wert so faithful, generous, valiant, Just look upon me with thine eyes of mercy, Although they ache with gazing here from Heaven And tell me, tell me, in surety the truth! There are no days accursed as these apart, Where thou my father with the angels art. TIME O sacred Time! forever lost On rapid wings Of wasted days and careless years. All tender things, Thy proffered joys and truths have crossed The stream of youthful arts, while tears Now drip upon the cheeks of age By Fate assigned. With waves of woes and crests of rage, Despair s ensigns Are sicklied o er by memories bright, Then dashed, confined By Hopelessness to night. DEATH Death! is it thou whom bravest souls do fear With direst awe? Art thou that storm on Time s Foam-fretted shore that launches spirits to Eternity? Art thou that tempest in The sea of Life blowing forthwith a wind In thunderbolts that shakes again Creation back To its original atoms? Death to cease To be; life s wits end in consternation O er not being what we ve been before; Where all that s past is lost and being past Was lost the instant we did live. Death A moment s work disguised through years of fear The folly of it! losing blood by drops From passioning veins but lowlier clay withal. This fearing death disquiets all the rests Of life in these our fleshly prisons, Reviving, creeping to calamity. THE IRISHMAN S DREAM A Dramatic Poem THE IRISHMAN S DREAM A Dramatic Poem in Two Scenes DRAMATIS PERSONS SIR ROGER BURKE An Irish Patriot LADY GLORIA His Wife TIME Autumn, A. D. 1916 PLACE London SCENE i : A prison cell in the Tower of London. A window strongly barred letting in a flood of moonlight. Perfect quiet save for the pacing back and forth of the heavy prison guard. [Enter LADY GLORIA, attired in deep black - hair all disheveled. SIR ROGER BURKE rises from his couch, throws his arms about his wife and kisses her pas sionately.^ BURKE (tenderly). Gloria! Gloria! With thee here this very pit Is glorious! 132 Collected Poems GLORIA. Life has no more in it but thee. BURKE. This amorous night at least we will procure Our purpose, all rejoicing in our joy. GLORIA. Many days more! BURKE. Alas, no more! GLORIA. Why? BURKE (slowly releasing her). No one can save me, Gloria. GLORIA. I begin to see amid this gloom. Speak plainly. BURKE. I m strong, yet cannot at this moment feel it. GLORIA. I shut my eyes again, my love! my love! BURKE. How beautiful thou seemest in this light, Like a miser do I kiss those tears away. The Irishman s Dream 133 GLORIA. My flesh anticipates thy fate; tell it me. BURKE (bitterly). Hear! The appeal is lost, the Crown has spoken - From hence this Tower tomorrow morn -a traitor Fm condemned to die. Perhaps a great Decree for history though pitiful It seems to us, abridged in the pain of parting. GLORIA (vehemently). Quickly is there aught wherein I still can serve thee? I reckoned not my husband to this law. Upon thy soul there is no stain transmit ted. BURKE. Tis true, my heart, as tender moon shines on Thy tumbled hair. GLORIA. Oh! Base adversities! Your British gold and painted justice blind! 134 Collected Poems BURKE. To leave the sweet and music of our lives, The countings on long years for pleasure here; Those hills we loved, and meads a-trem- bling with the dew; The waking daffodils and the languid note of birds! It seems so far away, the ribboned light Of Erin s golden dawns, the streamlet frail and sheen That wafted a-near our little cottage down To the great white surges. We stood to gether beneath The morning star its magic through a thousand rills: We laughed out o er the riches of our garden. GLORIA (through her tears). Aye! Thou a fawn and I, a woodland nymph. BURKE. The call of day came basking clear and free. The Irishman s Dream 135 GLORIA (sadly). Cold death and withered wreaths, all shadows now. (With sudden fury) Such crafts of law seduced to such ends! Is reason here so mightily corrupted? Frank justice dwells within our blood - that blood Once spilled, is clotted on unequal scales. BURKE (bitterly). The ghosts here in this Tower mock my fate: The cries of Edward s babes a-freeze my veins. GLORIA. They wink at crime, who execute true valour. Still living hope is not forsaken. Are there No ways to charm the hearts of Courts? O God! BURKE (passionately drawing her to him). Thy tearful eyes and drooping breasts Beloved, 136 Collected Poems E er my day-dawn at Creation turned from stars, Anon thou wert the dusk and twilight of my soul, All renewing, interposing, never Ending. I clasp thee close in sacred fire. High! High! Love s crystal cups filled rim to rim, I sense a thirst for life more life still more! GLORIA (raising her eyes). Thy kiss again bewildered there s nothing clear! BURKE. And yet to die for Ireland, sweet sac rifice! GLORIA (proudly). A crown of Honour, aye, I see thy thought. BURKE. And feel the flame of courage in thy breath; 111 phrased our sorrow in that great de clension. The Irishman s Dream 137 GLORIA. To heal the breach and woe of her great wrongs. BURKE. I will unloose them with my hands in death, To stir those wounds in flashing brands of steel. GLORIA ( with great patriotism). Oh! Let them echo to the limits of The world and farthest isles, founded on Our people s mighty lore. With due Allegiance, I ll keep that ancient faith Until her freedom from this yoke has been attained. BURKE (sorrowfully). And yet, my wife, to die to leave thee here Alone! The vision shakes into me a soul Whose essence is all cowardice. (Starting to walk to and fro] Recast thy splendour, life, eye to eye! GLORIA. How can we part? 138 Collected Poems BURKE. Whither wander down? Where are my friends, where are my flat terers now? This Stygian river roaring o er my soul, Is there one who would come forth and share this fee? Ha! Ha! We re craven if we believe it. Smile away that trust, or speak it softly, Such faith is naught within man s selfish lust. GLORIA (embracing him wildly}. I cry out for delay and for thy life! (A pause as he holds her to him) BURKE (sneeringly). Life, this thing subjection, we call be ing; Why is it so sweet to us? Swiftest Minutes winged on to Pain and Sorrow, Sickness, anger, grief, suspicion, woe- Dream that Time is naught and life is not to be. GLORIA (softly). My husband! The Irishman s Dream 139 BURKE. Life, mere thoughts of loss and gain, Unctuous vapors in a wandering fire! (Intensely) List my prayer and heed this warning, now I go. If thou wouldst contemplate thy frank Estate, think not thou hast a friend who boasts It to thee in thy fortune s hour. The eyes O er gilded thrones are false, as those are true That peer from up the lowly dust. He is Thy friend who speaks to thee and offers aid Uncalled and humbly, in thy misery. GLORIA (kissing him). For me there is no friend but Death! BURKE (dreamily). Thy hair, Beloved, for centuries has drunk the sun, A flame of ebony in farthest ages. I feel the sharp savors of a distant past, 140 Collected Poems Our souls as in the heavens there en sphered, And all the sky is flecked with magic light - Mirth mirrors crested with our Babylon passion, Fountains plashing in the Hanging Gar dens, The Euphrates level through a burnished plain; Flower crowned and girdled thou, in golden Gauzes from the feasts. We sat neath veiled Moon those rhythmic nights to sate our love. (Relaxes suddenly and points to the walls.} Here, this black abyss, these oozing crevices, Our flame of faith that goes out for this cause, More awful is the silence of it all. This business o er these traders in the dark- Thou shalt feel my spirit still with thee, The Irishman s Dream 141 To glide henceforth a shadow in our home. GLORIA. Take me! Take me! Thine I am in body And in soul else sundered from the world. BURKE. Hush! The guard thou needst not go this moment. (Continues wildly) Death! The glister of eternity And unknown tangles! I cannot will not cease! To stop this blood all passioning in my veins, The blast of dreaded winds in night s dark orbs; Suspense, a tingling stillness, crash and cry! Back, back again to dust a- dismal grave, A core in slime to feed the vermin of The earth! Bait unto the hook of Na ture s Great Oblivion, reeled anon 142 Collected Poems Into a blackness without bound, to meet With Chaos, Anguish, and with Time timeless Time to scope the tenor of eternity; An alien in the multitude of spheres, A great sun dark ning in a heaven my shout Of terror delivered to the stars; gongs And hammers in the tideless ring of Space Each minute beating in a bell of fear, The thesis of our immortality! O God! is this thy trap for human souls? GLORIA. Lost! Lost! My noble lord, let me die anon upon Thy breast proof of perfect love all shared. \Sudden flash of lightning, followed by roar of rolling thunder. The stage is totally darkened for a period of about four min ute sJ] PLACE Ireland SCENE 2 : In Sir Roger s country villa. Cosy bed room radiant with early morning sun- The Irishman s Dream 143 light, and glimpsed in the background verdant Irish plain. Sir Roger is seen awakening from a deep sleep. He sits up and in a startled tone speaks to Gloria, lying peacefully by his side. BURKE. No! No! (GLORIA awakes.} Twas a dream a wave on a roaring shore, To break in calm upon our coming days,- Gold-crested hills of Ireland, magic main, Frail streamlet rippling to the saffron sea. Come! Love is pledged eternal in yon goodly gift (pointing to a framed man uscript] , The pardon of our king there hanging on the wall. Kiss me, Gloria, that I may know my self. With thy caress the sweetest morning dawns In melody of lifted voices blest. Those silken arms around my shoulders throw! (She embraces, then kisses him.) CURTAIN OVERDUE- 281933 LD 2l-50m-l, 33 402207 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY