E YALE SERIES UC-NRLF B 3 33^ i Dreams and a Sword Medora C.Addison nit mm nn IJL III OF YOUNGER POETS :4 LIBRIS NIVERSITY IALIFORNIA THE FUND JSHED AT YALE 1927 BY H. CROCKER |E CLASS OF 1882 SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL UNIVERSITY PUBLISHER S NOTE. THE Yale Series of Younger Poets is designed to afford a publishing medium for the work of young men and women who have not yet secured a wide public recognition. It will include only such verse as seems to give the fairest promise for the future of American poetry, to the development of which it is hoped that the Series may prove a stimulus. Communications concerning manuscripts should be addressed to the Editor, Professor Charlton M. Lewis, 425 St. Ronan Street, New Haven, Connecticut. VOLUMES ISSUED, OR PLANNED FOR EARLY PUBLICATION I. THE TEMPERING. By Howard Buck. II. FORGOTTEN SHRINES. By John Chipman Farrar. III. FOUR GARDENS. By David Osborne Hamilton. IV. SPIRES AND POPLARS. By Alfred Raymond Bellinger. V. THE WHITE GOD AND OTHER POEMS. By Thomas Cal- decot Chubb. VI. WHERE LILITH DANCES. By Darl Macleod Boyle. VII. WILD GEESE. By Theodore H. Banks, Jr. VIII. HORIZONS. By Viola C. White. IX. WAMPUM AND OLD GOLD. By Hervey Allen. X. THE GOLDEN DARKNESS. By Oscar Williams. XI. WHITE APRIL. By Harold Final. XII. DREAMS AND A SWORD. By Medora C. Addison. Dreams and a Sword MEDORA C. ADDISON NEW HAVEN - YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS MDCCCCXXII PYRIGHT, 1922, BY YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS ACKNOWLEDGMENT. FOR permission to reprint poems appearing in this volume, thanks are due to the editors of Contemporary Verse, The Lyric, The New York Times, The Churchman, Telling Tales, Voices and Poetry. 64G41>5 TO MY FATHER. CONTENTS. My Songs The Quest . Wasted Hours 12 Trapped Walls . 13 Autumn Dusk H Remembrance H Songs .... 15 In Exile Journey s End My Grave ... !? The Spell . From the Hospital Fear . A Summer Day In Dreams Your Love . Riches Faith . Names .... Ships For You The Days to Come The Farmer s Wife Outcast Surrender .... Secure .... My Faith .... Masked Magic . Madame Butterfly . After Rain . Memories Alone . Some Day . ^ The Messenger Our Soldiers The Game of War ... 33 Under the Stars The Nurse . G. G. H. Unspoken Love Echoes Why*? My Teachers Sunrise Butterfly Wings Her Eyes Heretic Love s Reticence Sparks Wanderlust . The Deserted Farm Sanctuary The Call Motherhood Yours Dreams and a Sword 10 MY SONGS. I DO not sing my songs for the world to hear, *"" For the unresponsive heart and careless ear ; ^ Nor do I sing to touch your heart with fire j^ No stumbling song of mine could so aspire. Q But all my songs are strange moon-silvered birds, Caught in the silent, waiting heart of me J^ I hear the swift wild beat of lyric wings And tear my soul apart to set them free, THE QUEST. WHAT will you fashion out of the years to come, -H- Hands, little hands that reach and cling to my breast 7 A Will you carry the torch I light with a flaming prayer C- Will you cling to the dream that wounds with a wild unrest *? n All of my faith is forged in the sword you bear, r* Surely you will not fail in the splendid quest, o Better the mark of nails than the empty palm (L^ Hands, little hands that reach and cling to my breast \ Q 11 WASTED HOURS. THERE was a day I wasted long ago, Lying upon a hillside in the sun An April day of wind and drifting clouds ; An idle day and all my work undone. The little peach trees with their coral skirts Were dancing up the hillside in the breeze ; The grey-walled meadows gleamed like bits of jade Against the crimson bloom of maple trees. And I could smell the warmth of trodden grass. The coolness of a freshly harrowed field ; And I could hear a bluebird s wistful song Of love and beauty only half revealed. I have forgdtten many April days But one there is that comes to haunt me still A day of feathered trees and windy skies And wasted hours on a sunlit hill. 12 TRAPPED. FAR as the farthest star, Yet all too near ; Breaker of many dreams And yet most dear ; How shall I find you All the world apart 1 ? How shall I lose you Closer than my heart ! WALLS. I LIVE in a garden Flanked by walls, high walls, A beautiful garden Where the sunlight falls, And sometimes I listen When the trees are still To the song of a boy On a far-off hill. * * * * I wonder if he hears, When his singing calls, The beating of white hands Against high walls 7 AUTUMN DUSK. A SICKLE moon hung in a blue-green sky, A twisted tree etching the sunset s gold, A twilight wind rustling the dead leaves by, And sudden night, star-decked and purple-stoled. REMEMBRANCE. LY no flowers on my grave After love dies. How shall I be comforted With withered lies *? But if you remember me, Dreaming apart, Then shall lilies tall and fair Bloom in my heart. SONGS. I SING of sorrow I who have not known The bitterness of grief. I write of tragedy and live a life Tranquil beyond belief. Yet when I meet with sorrow face to face And walk in shadowed ways, I think that I shall sing of happiness, Remembering these days. IN EXILE. OVER hills and mountains I am calling, calling, Down the frozen valley unanswered echoes die ; In your far-off city where the winter night is falling, Will you feel the darkness vibrant with my cry 7 JOURNEY S END. THERE is no sound in the woods to-day Hushed by the falling snow, Only the tree tops whispering To all the winds that blow. I will lie down with a dark old pine Singing above my head, Silver birch at my tired feet, Snow for my feather bed; All that I have at my journey s end, A broken dream to show All that I ask, a place to lie Under the drifting snow. 16 MY GRAVE. BURY me not too deep For I would hear the rain Sweep down the hill When nights are still And April comes again. For I would hear the song Whether I wake or sleep Of blowing grass And feet that pass Bury me not too deep ! THE SPELL. LNG have I dreamed of love s adventure, Long have I sung of love s desire, Songs that I sang with red lips laughing, Hot with the flame of borrowed fire. Now I have felt your arms about me, Now that my lips on yours have lain, Mute with the memory of your kisses, How shall I sing of love again ? FROM THE HOSPITAL. BRICKS and lighted windows In long, straight rows, Overhead a glint of sky Where midnight glows. I have won through tortured nights With courage high Just because God put a star In that bit of sky. FEAR. I AM not afraid of love that grows from a spark To an all-consuming flame, Though it wrap my life in a mantle of scarlet pain Though it blister my soul with shame. But I am afraid of love that is born a flame And slowly dies to a spark. I am afraid of the bitter ashes of love Afraid of the dark ! 18 A SUMMER DAY. THERE S too much beauty in the world to-day For pain is born of utter loveliness And singing hearts are hushed by dreams too fair For aught but tears or silence to express. See what a shade of blue the sky has caught And into every lake its azure spills, Mark the deep purple of the mountain peaks And vivid green across the nearer hills. There s clover fragrance in the fields to-day And sun-baked sweetness from the pines beyond. Out of the forest comes the breath of ferns And mossy coolness from the birch-rimmed pond. The robins flash their songs from tree to tree, A hermit thrush is calling far away And in his song I hear my own heart s cry "There s too much beauty in the world to-day." IN DREAMS. I FOUND a child in the land of dreams Where roses blow, white roses blow. I found a child that was all my own Whisper it low, whisper it low ! I played with him down the garden paths Where snowdrops grow, pale snowdrops grow. I kissed his hair and I kissed his eyes I loved him so, I loved him so ! I held him close in my eager arms, Then I let him go, I let him go. But I have tasted the Virgin s joy Whisper it, whisper it low ! 20 YOUR LOVE. SOME day when Death shall come with quiet footsteps To lead me far away, And memories it took a life to gather Are scattered in a day, I think that there is one will never leave me Through all the changing years, And that your love will follow me undaunted Across those dark frontiers. RICHES. RLTHER a song in my heart With flashing wings, Rather a jeweled dream Than the wealth of kings. Rather the pain of loving Than all things sweet, Rather the thought of you Than the world at my feet. 21 FAITH. THERE are so many songs to sing Before the last lark calls, So many purple hills to climb Before the twilight falls. For swift is the night to silence song And veil the hills afar Yet hark, in the dusk, a nightingale, Beyond the hills a star ! NAMES. THESE are names to haunt our dreams- Babylon, Samarkand, Valparaiso, Singapore, Khartoum and Somaliland. These are names to shatter dreams Chattanooga, Yonkers, Rye, Walla Walla, Steubenville, Noank, and Schenectady. 22 SHIPS. BEAUTIFUL lie the ships on the moonlit harbor, Clustered like sleeping birds with white wings furled, Gathering to their breasts from the silver water All of the peace that haunts a dreaming world. Down in the holds that reek of sweat and liquor, Sprawled in their bunks men snore the night away, Dreaming of polished bars and painted women Beautiful lie the ships on the moonlit bay. FOR YOU. IT is for you the birds of dawn are singing With sunrise colors glinting down their wings, It is for you the lilac boughs are fragrant, For you the west wind sings. And in my heart that hungered for your coming, Silent and bare the whole long winter through, There is a song too beautiful for singing Made of my love for you. THE DAYS TO COME. Now shall I store my soul with silent beauty, Beauty of drifting clouds and mountain heights, Beauty of sun-splashed hills and shadowed forests, Beauty of dawn and dusk and star-swept nights. Now shall I fill my heart with quiet music, Song of the wind across the pine-clad hill, Song of the rain and, fairer than all music, Call of the thrush when twilight woods are still. So shall the days to come be filled with beauty, Bright with the promise caught from eastern skies ; So shall I see the stars when night is darkest, Still hear the thrush s song when music dies. THE FARMER S WIFE. WESTWARD she looks with eyes that cannot see The splendor of the sun, They are too tired looking all the day At things that must be done. So flaming skies and starlight call in vain To memories long dead She wipes v the frying pan, blows out the lamp And stumbles up to bed. OUTCAST. SHE has forgotten how to smile Although her painted mouth still tries, And oh, the ghosts of murdered dreams That haunt her calculating eyes ! SURRENDER. TAKE them from my outstretched hands Violets so frail and white Crush their beauty to your lips, Let their fragrance stir the night. Grieve not that they fade so soon, They have flowered but for this Take them, love, the night is brief, Life and death are in your kiss ! SECURE. I HAVE known beauty, I have walked with love And I have held a child against my breast How then shall I fear pain or grief or death, Being so blest *? 26 MY FAITH. SHALL there be nothing left of all my love Except a bit of dust blown on the air ? Only a song that echoes and is still, To tell the world I loved and found you fair ? Perhaps the beauty of my silenced love Will linger in the quiet afterglow, Perhaps you still may hear my broken songs When thrushes call and twilight breezes blow. And yet I know my love will never die But rise triumphant, crowned with many scars, And it shall wait for you, nor wait in vain, Beyond the scattered splendor of the stars. MASKED. WE never gave him sympathy Because he seemed so cold; We thought that he was grown up Because he looked so old. And yet behind his scornful eyes That never laughed or smiled, I have seen looking out at me A lonely little child. MAGIC. THREE charms I have to turn a dark world bright- The thought of white ships sailing out to sea, The moonlit mountains on a summer night, And the remembrance of your love for me. 28 MADAME BUTTERFLY. CHERRY blossoms softly drifting, Moonlight through your lattice sifting, Madame Butterfly, While you wait your love s returning And the lanterns, dimly burning, Flicker low and die. So much love and beauty calling Through the petals lightly falling Down the starlit sky, Yet the end of all your dreaming Lies in one bright dagger gleaming, Madame Butterfly! 29 AFTER RAIN. I CAN see through the ether haze Roses stuck in an earthen vase Breath of a garden after rain, Blood red roses and God, what pain ! Walking now where the roses bloom Why do I see that silent room ? Why does the dark eyed ghost of pain Walk in my garden after rain? MEMORIES. I HAVE a busy squirrel mind That safely stores away The little nuts of memory It finds from day to day, So when the barren winter comes I shall not care at all, But nibble at my pile of nuts And watch the snowflakes fall. ALONE. THERE is joy in the thrush s call as the twilight deepens, There is laughter in every breeze from the sunset skies ; There s a song in the brook where the hemlock boughs are bending There s a smile in your eyes. There is pain in the thrush s song and the day is over, There is sobbing among the pines where the south wind dies ; There is silence across the hills and the far blue mountains There are tears in my eyes. SOME DAY. SOME day perhaps I too may speak your name As others speak it now, In just that tone of low-voiced sorrowing Well-ordered griefs allow. And when the years have dimmed my flaming grief To embers of regret Then may I too find words to voice your praise But oh, not yet, not yet ! THE MESSENGER. COME when the trees are bare and the wind is crying- Voice of my hidden fears Come when the skies are grey and the day is dying Bringer of silent tears. Then shall I take your hand in the dusk of sorrow, Finding my fears come true ; Then shall I rise to greet the cheerless morrow, Building my life anew. Only when April comes with buds unfolding, Quieting all my fears, Spare me the bitter gift your hands are holding, Bringer of silent tears ! OUR SOLDIERS. NOT with a clamor of shouting and tumult of cheers Wrung from a thousand lips ; Not with the blaring of trumpets and rattle of drums, Shall they march to their ships. But without sound or farewell shall they sail from our shores, Piercing the dusk of the dawn, Seeking not glory but honor and peace at the last Won for a world unborn. THE GAME OF WAR. TIN sword in hand and paper cap Aslant your tousled head, You play at soldier all the day Until I snatch you from the fray And carry you to bed. A sword beside your strong white hand- You lie so still, my son ! A crimson stain upon your breast, Closed eyes, at last a little rest. The game is done. 33 UNDER THE STARS. "Tx s on a rough New Hampshire hill," he said, A "A low, white house with apple trees close by, And further up the hill the grey barns stand With ridge poles taut against the northern sky. "I often climbed the hill at dusk to see The sunsets soar and fade and then I d lie As I am lying now, and watch the stars In bright battalions wheel across the sky. "I wonder if the apple blossoms drift Across the moonlit grass now May is here I wonder if the lilac bough still taps My window sill the way it did last year. "I wonder if the cowslips still splash gold Across the marshland by the pasture bars " He coughed, spat blood and lay with arms outstretched, His sightless eyes still questioning the stars. 34 THE NURSE. I WHO had never seen his face before, Sat by his side, Held by the anguish that his tortured eyes Still strove to hide. So much a soldier yet so much a child, Facing alone The ever deepening agony of life And death unknown. Silent until the very end and then "Mother !" he cried. I, who had never seen his face before, Knelt by his side. 35 G. G. H. HE laughed, they said, and leapt the parapet, He turned and, laughing, bade them follow on. a You couldn t worry him," they said, and yet He knew what lay before him in the dawn. His comrades saw him last in No Man s Land Still laughing at the bitter game he played, And there Death came and took him by the hand With reverent touch for one so unafraid. Yet well we know the laughter has not died Upon those gallant lips, nor shall our tears Efface the flaming splendor of our pride In that brave laughter ringing down the years. UNSPOKEN LOVE. I DID not speak, dear heart, before you fled So swiftly through the silent, star-swept dawn. I dreamed of love and rose to find you gone With all my love unsaid. I did not speak yet now when night grows grey, You turn to me from that strange other-land With wistful smile and eyes that understand All that my heart would say. ECHOES. IN the dusk I hear the music of your footsteps returning And echoing of footsteps that never will return Through the gloom I see the fire in your eyes with passion burning And myriads of closed eyes where love will never bum. Ah, hold me close and closer ! I am frightened by this gladness So strangely mixed with sorrow for half a world in tears, And joy of your returning cannot still this haunting sadness This echoing of footsteps retreating down the years. 37 WHY? w HY have you stolen the beauty Out of the sunset skies *? Why is the starlight clouded Remembering your eyes ? There is no peace in the mountains, No hope in the flaming dawn Only the four winds crying "Why have you gone*?" MY TEACHERS. I THOUGHT that Joy had taught me All life had to tell Until I lived with Pain and learned Suffering as well. And after Pain swift Sorrow Came with me to dwell Now I think that I have learned All life has to tell. SUNRISE. DAWN sets the fringes of the world ablaze With gold and scarlet fire, Flames leap to scorch the fading stars that crown Night s funeral pyre ; Yet all the world is sleeping unaware And one by one, Men wake in stuffy rooms where daylight creeps And curse the sun. BUTTERFLY WINGS. I TRUDGED with my eyes on the dusty road- Steep was the way and long When a flutter of yellow butterflies Rose like a fairy s song, And the dusty road was a path of gold Touching the heaven s blue For butterfly wings, so bright, so brief, Carried me back to you ! 39 HER EYES. SHE smiles, yet what a world of sadness lies Behind those quiet eyes, What pain and utter loneliness are there, What grief beyond despair ! She laughs, but in her laughter are the tears Of all the unwept years, And in her silence I have heard the cry Of hopeless tragedy. HERETIC. NOT all the creeds in all the world Shall comfort me when I am old, For I have learned them word for word And found them bitter cold ; Yet I believe that following Across the night a star s faint gleam, I ll find a manger in the dawn Where I may lay my dream. 40 LOVE S RETICENCE. You call me every hour of the day To watch your games or kiss your tears away, And when you are afraid you take my hand Because you know that I will understand ; But there will come a day when, grown so tall, You still may need my love yet will not call, And though I feel you groping for my hand, I must not tell you that I understand. SPABKS. "T) LEASE screen the fire when you come to bed, A The sparks may fly," he said, And she who many years had screened the fires Of perilous desires, Rose silently to cage the last red spark And followed through the dark. 4 1 WANDERLUST. THERE are so many places That I should like to see, But I must walk the narrow road The fates unwind for me, With flowers by the roadside And birds in every tree, Yet in my heart the dream of lands That I shall never see. THE DESERTED FARM. WITH darkened windows staring down the lane And tattered shingles clinging to its side, It crouches by the hill, And waits for those who will not come again To that scarred doorway fashioned with such pride By hands that lie so still. 42 SANCTUARY. THERE is a secret garden in my heart No other eyes may see, So closely walled it is, so sternly kept Inviolate for me. All day I walk the dusty ways of men Beyond those hidden walls, But when the tumult of the world is hushed And brooding twilight falls, I slip unchallenged through the shadowed arch And you are waiting there, With fragrance of the wild rose on your lips And starlight in your hair, With magic in your touch to heal my soul Of all its dark unrest ; With passion in your eyes to light my dreams, And peace upon your breast. 43 THE CALL. BEAUTY is calling, calling down the world And I must follow after, For embers of undying dreams are blown To flame and golden laughter, And though I follow barefoot and alone The echoes that are ringing Across the shadowed valleys and the hills Where beauty still is singing, My bleeding feet shall find the rainbow s end And I shall be content, For, having followed beauty all my days, I ll count my life well spent. 44 MOTHERHOOD. STANDING alone at the ocean s edge, Eager and unafraid, You are the child I used to be, Playing the games I played. Now I have only a coward s heart, Holding you all too dear, Learning at last that love shall teach The fearless how to fear. You are so little against the sky, Eager and unafraid Oh, little son by the ocean s edge, I am afraid, afraid ! YOURS. BECAUSE I love you more than all the world I write of other things, For how shall little words combine to tell The wonder that love brings *? And yet if there be one frail song of mine That finally endures, By all the love my lips have never sung, You know that it is yours. DREAMS AND A SWORD. I ASKED for peace and a life of quiet dreaming But a sword was forged for my hand When the dust of battle dies in the star s cold gleaming, Shall I understand"? PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA GENERAL LIBRARY -^ OT? C!ATTFOT>* T Tt IVFPKFJ.l