meet WORLD VOICES ''This is my /as^; Amid Discordant strije To I^eep a clean, sioeei center in my life. And though the human orchestra may be Playing all out of k.ey. To tune my soul to symphonies above And sound the note of love. This is my taslz" "THIS IS MY TASK' ■^jaiwr** - V.5'"i n.s xsmai bs^isi ,s\^^\^ ^ .. : r«rir» ^cr\ v AdKT WORLD VOICES 6llaWlieelefMMcox Author of "Maurine, ''Poems of Passion, "Poems of Pleasure, etc. fflltistratrions htf William de LeftwicK Dodge Will Foster Lejaren A. Hiller T. D. SKiamore Vincent Aaerente CKarles A. Winter Paul Bransom George Gidds Mary Greene Blumensnein Paul Julien Meylan J. Scott Williams William Hottinger W. T. Benda JoKn Alonzo Williams Dalton Stevens New York Hearst's International Litrary Company Copyright, 1916, by Ella WKeeler Wilcox All rights reserved, including that of translation into the foreign languages, including the Scandinavian. CONTENTS After Page All in a CoacK and Four America AristarcKus Arrow^ and Bow Bachelor to a Married Flirt, A Beauty Bed, TKe " Belgium BirtK of Jealousy, TKe BirtK of tKe OrcKid, TKe BlaspKemy of Guns, TKe Call, TKe ;; CKrist Crucmed Compassion Contrasts Convention, TKe Crimes of Peace, TKe Divorced EartK Bound EartK, TKe Edict of tKe Sex, TKe Europe FaitK We Need, TKe [' FatKer and Son Forecast, TKe GKosts, TKe Good Sport, A Graduates, TKe .... Gulf Stream, TKe Gypsying Happiness Harp, TKe HeigKts, TKe Hersey His Last Letter Husks I Am Running FortK to Meet You I Wonder If I Were a Man, a Young Man Incarnation Interlude 70 358di io CONTENTS — Continued It Matters Only . It May Be Pag. Just You Kim .... Land of tKe Gone-Away Souls, Tne Lawns Meditations Men-Made Gods, The Minor CKord, A My FaitK My Flower Room .... Neutral Occupation Oh, Poor Sick World Old Song, An On Avon's Breast I Saw a Stately Swan , Pain s Purpose Peace Shall Not Come Plow of God, The Praise Day Price He Paid, The "Protests" Rainy Night, A Recrimination Replies Revealing Angels, The Revery in the Station-House, A Reward Separation Sinus Song of Faith, A Songs of Love and the Sea Son Speaks, A Spinster, The Spur, The Squanderer, The Stairvv'ays and Gardens . . . Suitors, The Superwoman, The Sympathy Technique of Immortality, The That Day 68 CONTENTS — Continued TKinking of CKrist P^^^ TKis is My Task Traveler, Tne Trinity, TKe Trip to Mars, TKe True Character Two Voices Unfaitliful Wife to Her Husband, An Unsatisfied • ■ • • • Unwed Mother to tKe Wife, The TK. Waft of Perfume, A War Mothers War Sonnets _• - • • We Must Send Tliem Out to Flay We Two Weil-Born, TKe WKat Have You Done? WKat They Saw White Man, TKe Winds of Fate, TKe Younger Born, TKe 22 24 ILLUSTRATIONS This IS My Task (in colors) Fronti Photographic Illustration by Lcjaren A. Hiller Paj The Duperwoman Illustration by T. D. St^idmore Compassion Illustration by William de Leftwich Dodge The Younger Born Illustration by Dalton Stevens It May Be Photographic Illustration by Lejaren A. Hiller Beauty Illustration by Vincent Aderente The Trinity Photographic Illustration by Lejaren A. Hiller The Revealing Angels Illustration by Paul Julien Meylan Father and Son Illustration by J. Scott Williams America Illustration by Mary Greene Blumenshein What They Sa\v Illustration by William HoUinger A Revery in the Station-House Illustration by T. D. Skidmore His Last Letter Illustration by Vincent Aderente Happiness Illustration by William de Leftwich Dodge Unsatisnea Illustration by Charles A. Winter War Mothers Illustration by Charles A. Winter A Son Speaks Illustration by George Gibbs The Ghosts Illustration by W. T. Benda The Crimes of Peace Illustration by T. D. Skidmore A Good Sport Illustration by John Alonzo Williams Separation Illustration by Charles A. Winter Replies Illustration by Charles A. Winter The Convention Illustrations by Paul Bransom and Will Foster The Blasphemy oi Guns Illustration by Charles A. Winter WORLD VOICES THIS IS #T TASK t'i WHEN tKe wKole world resounds with rude alarms Of warring arms, WKen God's good eartK. from border unto border, SKows man s disorder. Let me not waste my dower of mortal might In grieving over wrongs I cannot right. This is my task: Amid discordant strife To keep a clean, sweet center in my life. And though the human orchestra may be Playing all out of key. To tune my soul to symphonies above And sound the note of love. This is my task. When, by the minds of men, most beauteous Faitb Seems doomed to death. And to her place is hoisted, by soul-treason. The dullard Reason, Let me not hurry forth with flag unfurled To proselyte an unbelieving world. This is my task: In depths of unstarred night Or in diverting and distracting light. To keep (in crowds or in my room alone) Faith on her lofty throne. And whatsoever happen or befall. To see God's hand in all. This is my task. When, in churcK pews, men worship God in words. But meet their kind with swords. When fair Religion, stripped of holy passion. Walks masked as Fashion, Let me not wax indignant at the sight Or waste my strength bewailing her sad plight. This is my task: To search in my own mind Until the qualities of God I find; To seek them in the heart of friend and foe. Or high or low. And in my hours of toil or prayer or play. To live my creed each day. This IS my task. 13 THE FORECAST // may be that I dreamed a dream; it may be that I saw The forecast of a time to come, by some supernal lave. I SEEMED to dwell in tKis same world, and in tKis modern time ; All strife Kad ceased ; men were disarmed ; and quiet Peace had made A thousand avenues for toil, in place of War s grim trade. From east to west, from nortk to soutK, wKere kigKways smooth and broad Tied State to State, tKe waste lands bloomed like gar- den spots of God. TKere were no beggars in tbe streets ; tbere were no unemployed ; For eacK man ow^ned bis plot of ground, and labored and enjoyed. Sweet children grew like garden flowers, all strong and fair to see ; And wben I marvelled at tbe sigbt, tbus spake a Voice to me ; "All Motberbood is now an art, tbe greatest art oneartb ; And nowbere is tbere known tbe crime of one unwel- come birtb. From rigbts of parentage tbe sick and sinful are de- barred ; For Matron Science keeps our bouse, and at tbe door stands guard. We know tbe cure for darkness lies in letting in tbe ligbt ; And Prisons are replaced by Scbools, wbere wrong views cbange to rigbt. Tbe wisdom, knowledge, study, tbougbt, once bent on beast and sod. We ^ive now to tbe buman race, tbe bigbest work of God; And, as tbe gardener cbooses seed, so we select witb care ; And as our Man Plant grows, we give bim soil and sun and air. Tbere are no slums ; no need of alms ; all men are opu- lent. For Motber Eartb belongs to tbem, as was tbe First Intent. It may be that I dreamed a dream; it may be that I saw The forecast of a time to come, by some supernal law. 14 THINKING OF CHRIST THINKING oi Christ and hearing w^Kat men say Anent His Second coming some near day Unto tne Me of (me), I turned to ask. What can Ave do for Him, and by what task Or through Avhat sacrifice, can we proclaim Our mighty love, and glorify His name? Whereon myself replied (thinking of Christ) : Has not God s glory unto Him sufficed? What need has He of temples that men raise? What need has He of any songs of praise? Not sacrifice nor offerings needs He. (Thinking of Christ, so spake Myself to me.) The rivers from the mountain do not try To feed the source from which they gain supply ; They pay their debt by flow^ing on and dow^n. And carrying comfort to the field and tow^n. They scatter joy and beauty on their course. In gratitude to the Eternal Source. And thus should w^e (thinking of Christ) bestow The full svi^eet tides of love that through us flow^ Upon earth s w^eaker creatures. To the less Must flow^ the greater, would we lift and bless Christ is the mountain source; each heart a river; The thirsting meadow^s need us, not the Giver. Thinking of Christ, let us proclaim His w^orth By gracious deeds to mortals on this earth ; And w^hile w^e w^ait His coming, let us bring SNveet love and pity to the humblest thing. And show our voiceless kin of air and sod The mercy of the Universal God. Not by long prayers, though prayers renew^ our grace — Not by tall spires, though steeples have their place — Not by our faith, though faith is glorious — Can we prove Christ, but by the love in us. Mercy and love and kindness — seek these three. Thus (thinking of Christ) Myself said unto me. 15 ^/ie Su.pei^u?omci WHAT will tKe superwoman te, of wKom we sin Sne w^no is coming over tne aim Dorder Ot far To-morrow^, after eartn s disorder Is tiaiea up by Time? What w^ill sKe bring To make life better on tempestuous earth? How^ w^iU ner w^ortn Be greater tnan ner forebears? What new power Witbin her being w^ill burst into now^er? One will bring beauty, not tne transient aow^er Of adolescence ■wnicn departs witn youtn. But beauty based on knowledge of the truth Of its eternal message and the source Of its all potent force. Her outer being by the inner thought Shall into lasting loveliness be w^rought. She vv'ill bring virtue ; but it w^iU not be The pale, \vhite blossom of cold chastity Which hides a barren heart. She w^ill be human — Not saint or angel — but the superw^oman. Mother and mate and friend of superman. She will bring strength to aid the larger Plan, Wisdom and strength and sw^eetness all combine Draw^n from the Cosmic Mind — Wisdom to act, and courage to attain. And sweetness that finds growth in joy or pain. She v^'iU bring that large virtue, self-control. And cherish it as her supremest treasure. Not at the call of sense or for Man s pleasure Will she invite from space an embryo soul. To live on earth again in mortal fashion. Unless love stirs her w^ith divinest passion. To motherhood, she will bring common sense — That most uncommon virtue. She vv'iU give Love that is more than she-wolf violence, (Which slaughters others that its own may lire). Love that will help each little tendril mind To grow^ and climb ; Love that will know the lordliest use of Time . Is training human egos to be kind. She will be formed to guide, but not to lead — ■ Leaders are ever lonely — and her sphere Will be that of the comrade and the mate. Loved, loving, and w^ith insight nne and clear. Which casts its search-light on the course of fate. And to the leaders says, "Proceed" or "Wait. ' And best of all, she will bring holy faith To penetrate the shadowy w^orld of Death, And show the road beyond it, bright and broad. That leads straight up to God. 16 17 THE PRICE HE PAID I SAID I w^ould have my fling. And do w^nat a young man may ; And I didn t believe a tKing That the parsons have to say. I didn t believe in a God Tnat gives us blood like nre, Tnen flings us into nell because We ansNver tne call of desire. And I said : Religion is rot. And the laAvs of tne w^orld are ml ; For tne bad man is ne -who is caugnt And cannot foot nis bill. And there is no place called hell ; And neaven is only a trutb Wnen a man has his way Avith a maid ' In the fresh keen hour oi youth. "And money can buy us grace. If it rings on the plate of the church ; And money can neatly erase Each sign of a sinful smirch. For I saw men everywhere. Hotfooting the road of vice ; And women and preachers smiled on them As long as they paid the price. So I had my joy of life : I went the pace of the town ; And then I took me a \vife. And started to settle down, I had gold enough and to spare For all of the simpler joys That belong w^ith a house and a home And a brood of girls and boys. I married a girl with health And virtue and spotless fame. I gave in exchange my w^ealth And a proud old family name. And I gave her the love of a heart Grown sated and sick of sin! My deal with the devil ^vas all cleaned up. And the last bill handed in. 18 SKe was going to bring me a child. And wKen in labour sKe cried With love and fear I was wild — But now I wish she had died. For the son she bore me was bund And crippled and weak and sore! And his mother was left a wreck. It was so she settled my score. I said I must have my fling. And they knew the path I would go ; Yet no one told me a thing Of what I needed to know. Folks talk too much of a soul From heavenly joys debarred — And not enough of the babes unborn. By the sins of their fathers scarred. PRAISE DAY Let us halt now for a space in our hurrying Let us take time to look up and look out. Let us refuse for a spell to be worrying; Let us decline both to question or doubt. If one goes caviling Hair splitting, flaw hunting, ready for strife. All the best pleasure is missed in the traveling Onward through life. Just for today we will put away sorrowing Just for today not a tear shall be shed. Nor will we fear anything or go borrowing Pain from the future by profitless dread. Thought shall go frolicking Pleasuring, treasuring, everything bright; Tasting the joy that is found just in rolicking On through the light. Just for today all the ills that need bettering We will omit from our notebook of mind. All that is good we will mark by red lettering; Those things alone we are seeking to find. Things to be sad over. Pine over, whine over, pass them, 1 say. Nothing is noted save what we are glad over This is Praise Day. 19 20 COMPASSION HE was a failure ; and one day Ke died. Across tKe border of the mapless land He found Himself amon^ a sad-eyed band Of disappointed souls : tbey, too, had tired And missed tbeir purpose. WitK one voice they cried Unto the shining Angel in command "Oh, lead us not before our Lord to stand^^ For we are failures, failures. Let us hide. Yet on.the Angel fared until they stood Before the Master. (Even his holy place The hideous noises of the earth assailed.) Christ reached his arms out to the trembling brood. With God's vast sorrow in Kis listening 4ace. ^^ "Come unto me," he said, "I, too, have failed. 1^ GYPSYING GYPSYING, gfypsying, tKrougK tKe world together. Never mina tne way we go, never mina w^nat port. FoIlow^ trails, or lasnion sails, start in any ^veatner : WKile w^e journey hand in hand, everything is sport. Gypsying, gypsying, leaving care and worry ; Never mind the if and but (words for coward lips)- Put tKem out w^itn fear and doubt, in the pack w^itb nurry, Wbile w^e stroll like vagabonds fortn to trails, or snips. Gypsying, gypsying, just w^here fancy calls us; Never mind what others say, or what others do. Everyw^bere or foul or fair, liking wbat befalls us ; Wbile you have me at your side, and w^hile I nave you. Gypsying, gypsying, camp by hill or hollow^ ; Never mind tbe \vny of it, since it suits our mood. Go or stay, and pay our w^ay, and let those \vho follow^ Find, upspringing from the soil, some small seed of good. Gypsying, gypsying, through the w^orld w^e w^ander ; Never mind the rushing years that have come and gone. There must be for you and me, lying over Yonder, Other lands, w^here side by side w^e can gypsy on. THE VOICE I dreamed a Voice, of one God-authorized, Cried loudly thro the world, "Disarm! Disarm! And there w^as consternation m the camps ; And men w^ho strutted under braid and lace Beat on their medalled breasts, and ^valled, Un- done ! The word w^as echoed from a thousand hills. And shop and mill and factory and forge. Where throve the aw^ful industries of earth. Hushed into silence. Scraw^led upon the doors. The passer read. Peace bids her children starve. But foolish w^omen clasped their little sons And w^ept for joy, not reasoning like men. 22 Again the Voice commanciecl : "Now go fortK And build a world for Progress and for Peace. TKis work Kas waited since the earth was shaped; But men were fighting and they could not tod. The needs of life outnumber needs of death ; Leave death with God. Go forth, I say, and build.' And then a sudden, comprehensive joy Shone in the eyes of men; and one who thought Only of conquests and of victories Woke from his gloomy reverie and cried, "Ay, come and build ! I challenge all to try. And I will make a world more beautiful Than Eden was before the serpent came. And like a running flame on western wdds. Ambition spread from mind to listening mind. And lo! the looms were busy once again. And all the earth resounded with men's tod. Vast palaces of Science graced the world ; Their banquet-tables spread with feasts of truth For all who hungered. Music kissed the air Once rent with boom of cannons. Statues gleamed From wooded rays where ambushed armies hid In times of old. The sea and air were gay With shining sails that soared from land to land. A universal language of the world Made nations kind, and poverty was known But as a word marked obsolete, like war. The arts were kindled with celestial fire. Now poets sang so Homer's fame grew dim; And brush and chisel gave the wondering race Sublimer treasures than old Greece displayed. Men differed still; fierce argument arose; For men are human in this human sphere ; But unarmed Arbitration stood between. And reason settled in a hundred hours What War disputed for a hundred years. Oh, that a Voice of one God-authorized Might cry to all mankind, "Disarm! Disarm!" 23 ^fie'TJoun^er^orn TFie modern English-ypeaking young girl is the astonishment of the worlcJ and the despair of the older generation. Nothing like her has ever been seen or heard before. Alike in drawing-rooms and the amusement places of the people, she defies long-established conventions in dress, speech, and conduct. She is hold, yet not immoral. She is immodest, yet she is chaste. She has no ideals, yet she is kind and generous. She is an anomaly and a paradox. \Jf7^E are the little daughters of Time and the World, his wife; ^y We are not like the children born in their younger life; We are marred with our mother's follies and torn with our father's strife. We are the little daughters of the modern World And Time, her spouse. She had brought many children to our father s. house Before we came, when both our parents w^ere content With simple pleasures and w^ith quiet, homely w^ays. Modest and mild Were the fair daughters born to them m those fair days, Modest and mild. But Father Time grew restless and longed for a swifter pace. And our mother pushed out beside him at the cost of her tender - grace. And life "was no more living, but just a headlong race. w^e are w^i Id- And Yea, w^ild are we, the younger born of the World. Into life s vortex hurled. With the milk of our mother s breast We drank her ow^n unrest. And w^e learned our speech from Time, Who scoffs at the things sublime. Time and the World have hurried so. They could not help their younger born to grow^. We only foUow^, follovt^ w^here they go. They left their high ideals behind them as they ran : There was but one goal — pleasure for Woman or for Man, And they robbed the nights of slumber to lengthen the day^s' brief span. We are the demi-virgms of the modern day; All evil on the earth is know^n to us in thought. But yet w^e do it not. We bare our beauteous bodies to the gaze of men ; We lure them, tempt them, lead them on. and then Lightly w^e turn away. By strong, compelling passion w^e are never stirred ; To us it is a word A w^ord much used when tragic tales are told. We are the younger born, yet we are very old 24 In unvine s taste ; And the young-maiden oloom and sweetness of our lips Is often m eclipse. Under the Dro\vn weed s stain. Yet we are chaste. We have no large capacity for joy or pain. But an insatiable appetite for pleasure. We have no use for leisure. And never learned the meaning of that word "repose." Life, as it goes. Must spell excitement for us. ue the cost w^hat may. Speeding along the ^vay, We ofttimes pause to do some generous little deed And rill the cup of need ; For we are kind at heart. Though with less heart than head. Unmoral, not immoral, when the worst is said. We are the product of the modern day. We are the little daughters of Time and the World, his wife; We are not li/^e the children born in thsir younger life; We are marred with our mother's follies and lorn Jvith our father's .strife. CONTRASTS A GREAT gold sun in the skies above us ; A great green world about; Fair winds out. And a blue sea now^ing ; And boats w^itn w^hite sails coming and going. For the friends we love and tlie friends ^vKo love us. Sing no — sing — • Life IS a goodly thing. ( The prison stands against the s\y A monument of gloom; The dead are there who did not die Yet dwell within a tomb. If summers come or winters go They do not seem to care, or kpow; They do not sing, they do not sing.) Birds in tne orchard and bees in tne clover Rainbow^s abloom in the sod ; Lovers abroad ; And somebody singing An old sw^eet air on taut strings ringing. And on m the w^oodlands tne cry of a lover. Sing no, I say — • Life IS a holiday. ( The Factory of ends the air — With shrill imperious calls; And little children hurrying there Are lost within its walls; It does not matter much someway If bright or dar\ the outer day. They do not sing, they do not sing.) BELGIUM Ruined? Destroyed? An, no; tnougn blood in rivers ran Dow^n all ner ancient streets ; tnougn treasures mam- fold, Love-w^rougnt, time-mellow^ed, and beyond the price of gold Are lost, yet Belgium s star snines still in God s vast plan. Rarely have kings been great, since kingdoms nrst began ; Rarely have great kings been great men w^hen all was told. But, by the lignted torch in mailed hands, benold Immortal Belgium s immortal king, and man. 26 IF I WERE A MAN, A YOUNG MAN IF I were a man, a youn^ man and knew w^Kat I kno^v today, I would look in tlie eyes of Life undaunted By any Fate that migKt threaten me. 1 would give to tne ^vorld ^vnat the world most wanted — Manhood that knows it can do and be ; Courage that dares, and faith that can see Clear into the depths of the human soul. And nnd God there, and the ultimate goal — If I were a man, a young man, and knew^ w^hat I know today If I were a man, a young man, and knew what I know today, I would think of myself as the masterful creature Of all the masterful plan ; The Formless Cause, \vith form and feature ; The Power that heeds not limit or ban ; Man, wonderful man. I w^ould do good deeds, and forget them straight\vay ; I would weave my \voes into ropes and climb Up to the heights of the helper s gateway; And Life should serve me, and Time, And I ^vould sail out, and out, and find The treasures that lie in that deep sea. Mind. I w^ould dream, and think, and act ; I w^ould work, and love, and pray. Till each dream and vision grew into a fact If I were a man, a young man, and knew^ what I know today. If I w^ere a man, a young man, and knew w^hat I know today, I would guard my passions as Kings guard treasures. And keep them high and clean, (For the ^vlll of a man, with his passions measures ; It IS strong as they are keen.) I w^ould think of each woman as some one s mother ; I w^ould think of each man as my own blood brother. And speed him along on his way. And the glory of life in this ^vonderful hour Should fill me and thrill me \vith conscious po\ver. If I w^ere a man, a young man and knew^ what I knoNv today. 27 City on city rising, steeple out-topping steeple, Gaining ana noaraing ana spending, ana armies on battle bent. People ana people ana people, ana ever more human people — This is not all of creation, this is not all that was Garth on its orbit spinning. This is not end nor beginning; That is but one of a trillion spheres out into the ether hurled : We move in a zone of ^vonder. And over our planet and under. Are infinite orders of beings and marvels of world on world. 28 There may be moving among us, curious people and races. Folk of the fourth dimension, folk of the vast star spaces. Tliey may be trying to reach us. They may be longing to teach us Tilings we are longing to kno'w. If it is so. Voices like these are not heard in earth s riot. Let us be quiet. Classes with classes disputing, nation ■\varripg \vitn nation. Building and owning and seeking to lead — this is not all! Endless the works of creation. There may be waiting our call Beings in numberless legions. Dwellers in rarefied regions. Journeying Godward like us, Aiibt for a -word to be spoken, Awatch for a sign or a token. If it be thus. How they must grieve at our riotous noise And the things we call duties and joys ! Let us be silent for a little while; Let us be still and listen. We may hear Echoes from other worlds not far away 29 AN OLD SONG Two roadways lead from This land to That ; and one is the road of Prayer ; And one is the road of Old Time Songs, and every note is a stair. A SHABBY old man witk a music macKme on tke sordid city street, — But suddenly eartK seemed Arcady, and liie grew young and sweet For tKe city street fled and tKe world was green and a little Kouse stood by tKe sea; And sKe came singing a martial air (sKe wko was peace itself) ; SKe KrougKt back witK Ker tKe old strange cKarm of mingled patKos and glee ; WitK Ker eyes of a cKild in a woman's face and Ker soul of a saint in an elf. SKe Kad been gone for many a year, tKey tell us it is not far, — TKat silent place wKere tKe dear ones go but it migKt as well be a star. Yes it migKt as well be a distant star, as a beautiful Near-By-Land. If w^e Kear no voice, and see no face, and feel no touch of a Kand. But now sKe Kad come, for I saw Ker tKere, and sKe looked so blitKe and young; (Not wKite and still as I saw Ker last) and tKe rose tKat sKe wore w^as red ; And Ker voice soared up in a birdlike trill, at tKe end of tKe song sKe sung. And sKe mimicked a soldier's warlike stride and tossed back Ker dear little Kead. SKe Kad been gone for many a year, and never came back before ; But I tKink sKe dwells in a Near-By-Land since a song jarred open tKe door; Yes I tKink it is surely a Near-By-Land, tKat place w^Kere our loved ones are For tKe song would never Kave reacKed Ker ear Kad sKe been on a distant star. Two roadways lead from This land to That ; and one is the road of Prayer; And one is the road of Old Time Songs, and every note is a stair. 30 I ARISTARCHUS (TKe Name of the Mountain in tKe Moon) 1 was lon^ ana long ago our love began ; It IS something all unmeasured by time s span : In an era and a spot, by the Modern World forgot. We w^ere lovers, ere God named us. Maid and Man. Like the memory of music made by streams. All the beauty of that other lifetime seems ; But I alw^ays thought it so, and at last I Kno\v, I know. We Avere lovers m the land of Silver Dreams. When the moon w^as at the full, I found the place ; Out and out, across the seas of shining space. On a quest that could not fail, I unfurled my memory s sail And cast anchor m the Bay of Love s First Grace. At the foot of Aristarchus lies this bay (Oh ! the w^onder of that mountain far aw^ay) And the Land of Silver Dreams all about it shines and gleams. Where w^e loved before God fashioned night or day. We were souls, in eerie bodies made of light; We w^ere w^inged, and we could speed from height to height. And w^e built a nest called Hope, on the sheer Moon Mountain Slope, Where w^e sat and w^atched new w^orlds wheel into sight. And w^e saw^ this little planet known as Earth, When the mighty Mother Chaos gave it birth ; But in Love s conceit we thought all those w^orlds from space w^ere brought. For no greater aim or purpose than our mirth. And w^e laughed in love s abandon, and we sang. Till the echoing peals of Aristarchus rang. As hot hissing comets came, and w^hite suns burst into name. And a myriad worlds from out the darkness sprang. I can show^ you, w^hen the moon is at its best, Aristarchus, and the spot w^e made our nest. Oh ! I alw^ays w^ondered w^hy, w^hen the moon was in the sky I w^as stirred with such strange longing and unrest. And I knew the subtle beauty and the force Of our love was never bounded by Earth s course. So with Memory's sail unfurled, I went cruising past this w^orld. And I followed till I traced it to its source. ^Yl 31 tttIBEAUTT 'T'HE search for heauly is ihe search for God, Who is Jill ^eaui'y. He who seeks shall find; And all along ihe paths my feel have irod, I have sought hungrily with heart and mind jind open eyes for beaut}) everywhere. Lo! I have found the world is very fair. The search for beauty is the search for God. Beauty was iirst revealed to me by stars. Before 1 saw it in my motner s eyes. Or. seeing, sensed it beauty, I was stirred To aw^e and ^vonder by tnose orbs of lignt. All palpitant against empurpled skies. TKey spoke a language to my childisn heart Of mystery and splendor and of space. Friendly witK gracious, unseen presences. Beauty was first revealed to me by stars. Sunsets enlarged tbe meaning of the word. TKere was a ■window^ looking to the w^est ; Beyond it, wide Wiscohsin fields of grain. And then a hill, whereon white flocks of clouds Would gather in the afternoon to rest. And when the sun went down behind that hill. What scenes of glory spread before my sight — What beauty — beauty, absolute, supreme! Sunsets enlarged the meaning of that word. Clover in blossom, red and honey-sweet. In summer billowed like a crimson sea Across the meadow lands. One day, 1 stood Breast-high amidst its waves, and heard the hum Of myriad bees that had gone mad like me With fragrance and with beauty. Over us, A loving sun smiled from a cloudless sky. While a bold breeze kissed lightly as it passed Clover in blossom, red and honey-sweet. Autumn spoke loudly of the beautiful. And in the gallery of Nature hung Colossal pictures hard against the sky. Set forests gorgeous with a hundred hues. And with each morning some new wonder flung Before the startled world — some daring shade. Some strange, new schenne of color and of form. Autumn spoke loudly of the beautiiul. 32 ■ I, II ■■,■ W BBBt €*' ^^ Winter, tKougk rude, is delicate in art- More delicate tKan summer or tnan lall (Even as rugged Man is more refined In vital things tKan Woman). Winter s toucK On Nature seemed most Deautiiul of all — Tnat evanescent beauty of tKe frost On window-panes, of clean, fresh-fallen snow. Of wKite, white sunlight on the ice-draped trees. Winter, though rude, is delicate in art. Morning ! The word itself is beautiful. And the young hours have many gifts to give That feed the soul w^ith beauty. He w^ho keeps His days for labor and his nights for sleep Wakes conscious of the joy it is to live. And brings from that mysterious Land of Dreams A sense of beauty that illumines earth. Morning! The word itself is beautiful. The search for beauty is the search for God. 33 THE EARTH TO build a house, Avith love for arcliitect. Ranks first and foremost in tKe joys of life And m a tiny cabin, snaped for two, TKe space for happiness is just as great As in a palace. Wnat a >vorld >vere this If eacn soul born, received a plot of ground ; A little plot, whereon a home might rise. And beauteous green things grow! We give the dead. The idle vagrant dead, the Potter s Field ; Yet to the living not one inch of soil. Nay, v^'e take from them soil, and sun, and air. To fashion slums and hell-holes for the race. And to our poor w^e say. Go starve and die As beggars die ; so gain your heritage. This w^as a most uncanny dream ; I thought the wraiths of those Long buried in the Potter s Field, in shredded shrouds arose ; They said. Against the w^ill of God We have usurped the fertile sod. Now w^iU ■we make it yield. Oh ! but it w^as a gruesome sight, to see those phantoms toil; Each to his own small garden bent ; each spaded up the soil; (I never kne^v Ghosts labored so.) Each scattered seed, and w^atched, till lo ! The Graves w^ere opulent. Then all among the fragrant greens, the silent spectral train. Walked, as if breathing in the breath of plant, and flower, and grain, (I never knew^ Ghosts loved such things ; Perchance it brought back early springs Before they thought of death.) th< irth fc *'The mothers milk for living babes ; living hosts ; The clean flame for the un-souled dead. (Oh, strange the ^vords of Ghosts.) "If w^e had owned this little spot In life, we need not lie and rot Here in a pauper s bed 34 THE WHITE MAN WHEREVER tKe white man's feet have trod (Oh, far does the white man stray) A bold road rifles the virginal sod. And the forest wakes out of its dream of God, To yield him the right of w^ay. For this is the law : By the pouccr of thought. For worse, or for better, are miracles wrought. Wherever the white man s pathw^ay leads, (Far, far has that path^vay gone) The earth is littered w^ith broken creeds — And always the dark man s tent recedes. And the w^hite man pushes on. For this is the law : Be it good or ill. All things must yield to the stronger will. Wherever the white man s light is shed, (Oh, far has that light teen throw^n) Though nature has suffered and beauty oled. Yet the goal of the race has been thrust ahead. And the might of the race has grown. For this is the law : Be it cruel or ki^d. The Universe sways to the power of mind. AFTER Over the din of battle. Over the cannons rattle. Over the strident voices of men and their dying groans, I hear the falling of thrones. Out of the w^ild disorder That spreads from border to border, I see a new^ w^orld rising from ashes of ancient towns ; And the Rulers w^ear no crow^ns. Over the blood-charged water. Over the fields of slaughter, Down to the hidden vaults of Time, w^here lie the ^vorn- out things I see the passing of Kings. 35 36 Woman may alter tKe first great plan. Daughters ana sisters and motners May stalk witn their brotners. Forth from their homes into noisy places Fit (ana nt only) for masculine man. Marring their graces With conflict and strife To Aviden the outlook of all human life. Yet some things ever must stay as they are While the sea has its tide and the sky has its star. A man and a woman ^vith love that strengthens And gathers new force as its earth w^ay lengthens; Nothing better by God is given This side of heaven. Science may show us a w^onderful, vast Secret of life and of breeding it ; Man by the heeding it Out of earth s chaos may bring a new^ order. Oft v^'lth old systems old laws may be cast. What now^ seems the border Of license in creeds May then be the center of thoughts and of deeds. Yet some things ever must stay as they are While the sea has its tide and the sky has its star. A man and a ^voman and love undefiled And the look of the tw^o m the face of a child — Oh, the joys of this w^orld have their changing w^ays. But this )oy stays. Nothing better on earth can be Than just those three. THE EDICT OF THE SEX TWO tKousanci years nad passed since Cnnst >vas Dorn, WKen suddenly tKere rose a mi^Kty host Of women, sweeping to a central goal As many rivers sweep on to the sea. TKey came from mountains, valleys, and from coasts And from all lands, all nations, and all ranks. Speaking all languages, but thinking one. And that one language — Peace. "Listen, tney said. And straightway was there silence on the earth. For men were dumb with wonder and surprise. "Listen, O mighty masters of the world. And hear the edict of all womankind ; Since Christ His new commandment gave to men Xove one another,' full two thousand years Have passed away, yet earth is red w^ith blood. The strong male rulers of the world proclaim Their weakness, when we ask that war shall cease. Now^ will the poor w^eak w^omen of the w^orld Proclaim their strength, and say that war shall end. Hear, then, our edict : Never from this day Will any woman on the crust of earth Mother a warrior. We have sworn the oath And will go barren to the waiting tomb Rather than breed strong sons at war s behest. Or bring fair daughters into life, to bear The pains of travail, for no end but war. Ay! let the race die out for lack of babes: Better a dying race than endless wars! Better a silent world than noise of guns And clash of armies. "Long w^e asked for peace, And oft you promised — but to nght again. At last you told us, war must ever be While men existed, laughing at our plea For the disarmament of all mankind. Then in our hearts flamed such a mad desire For peace on earth, as lights the world at times With some great conflagration; and it spread From distant land to land, from sea to sea. Until all women thought as with one mind And spoke as with one voice ; and now behold ! The great Crusading Syndicate of Peace. Filling all space with one supreme resolve. Give us, O men, your word that war shall end: Disarm the world, and we will give you sons — Sons to construct, and daughters to adorn A beautiful new earth, where there shall be 38 Fewer and hner people, opulence And opportunity and peace for all. Until you promise peace no sKrill birtn-cry Dnall sound again upon tne ageing eartn. We wait your answ^er. And tne w^orld w^as still. While men considered. THE HARP TKe Harp is dual natured — Heaven and Eartn Are parents of its birtn ; Heaven, tKe radiant mother; Earth, the sire Whose unappeased desire Reverberates and rings Along its throbbing strings. In sounds more eloquent than any w^ord The Heavenly Mother speaks — in tender chords And tones that seem the echo from God s lands Of singing choral bands. The Spirit of Celestial music floats Great argosies of soft melodious notes Down the high octaves to their port and goal. The human soul. Then from some deep sea place, w^here dwells the resonant bass. All suddenly the mortal passions w^ake And like w^ind-dnven billows, rush and break Upon the heart and flood it w^ith an ocean Of memory and emotion. Ambitions, aspirations, hopes and dreams Past, present, future, sw^irl in these great streams Of harmony ; and over and above Sounds the clear call of love. Into her confidence has Nature taken The w^ondrous harp ; so oft her strings are shaken By voices of the w^ind — By eerie laughter of the elnn kind — ■ By ripple of the brooks, by fall of leaves And by the ebbing tide that sighs and grieves — By w^hirr of w^ings at dawn — by that sw^eet w^ord Uttered in deep wood trysts tw^ixt bird and bird At mating time — yea all that Nature feels And knoAvs and understands, the Harp reveals. 39 TWO VOICES O Virtue WANTON one, O wicked one, liow was it tKat you came, Down from tKe patKs of purity, to walk the streets of sKe And wKerefore was tKat precious wealth God gave to you in trust. Flung broadcast for tKe feet of men to trample in tKe dust? Vice O prudent one, O spotless one, now listen well to me. TKe ways tKat led to wKere I tread tKese patKs of sin, w^ere tKree ; And God, and good folks, all combined to make tKem fair to see. Virtue wicked one, blaspKemous one, now Kow could tKat tKmg be? Vice TKe first was Nature's lovely road, wKereon my life was Kurled. 1 felt tKe stirring in my blood, wKicK permeates tKe world. I tKrillsd like willows in tKe spring, wKen sap begins to flow ; It w^as young passion in my veins, but Kow was 1 to know? TKe second was tKe silent road, \vKere modest motKers dwell. And Kide from eager, curious minds, tKe trutK tKey ougKt to tell. TKis misnamed road called "Innocence sKould bear tKe sign ' To Hell. WitK song and dance in ignorance I walked tKat road and fell. Virtue fallen one, unKappy one, but wKy not rise and go Back to tKe ways you left beKind, and leave your sins belo\v ; Nor linger in tKis sink of sin, since now you see, and know? Vice TKe tKird road was tKe fair KigKway, trod by tKe good and great. 1 cried aloud to tKat vast crowd, and told my Kapless fate. 40 TKey Kurried all througK door and wall and sKut Con- vention s ^ate. I beat it witK my bleeding bands; tbey must bave beard me knock, Tbey must bave beard wild sob and word, yet no one turned tbe lock. Ob, it is very desolate, on Virtue's patb to stand. And see tbe good folks flocking by, witbbolding look and band. And so witb bungry beart and soul, and weary brain and feet, I left tbat bigbway wbence you came, and sougbt tbe sinful street. i /• 11 1 O prudent one, O spotless one, wben good folks speak of me. . Go, tell tbem of tbe roads I came ; tbe roadways fair, and tbree. SYMPATHY Is tbe way bard and tborny, ob, my brotber? Do tempests beat, and adverse wild winds blow? And are you spent, and broken at eacb nigbtfall. Yet witb eacb morn you rise and onward go? Brotber, I know, I know! I, too, bave journeyed so. Is your beart mad witb longing, ob, my sister? Are all great passions in your breast aglow? Does tbe wbite wonder of your own soul blind you. And are you torn witb rapture and witb woe? Sister, I know, I know! I, too, bave suffered so. Is tbe road filled witb snare and quicksand, pilgrim? Do pitfalls lie wbere roses seem to grow? And bave you sometimes stumbled in tbe darkness. And are you bruised and scarred by many a blow? Pdgrim, I know, 1 know, I, too, bave stumbled so. Do you send out rebellious cry and question. As mocking bours pass silently and slow? Does your insistent "wberefore" bring no answer, Wbile stars wax pale witb watcbing, and droop low? I, too, bave questioned so. But now / k^ou), I know! To toil, to strive, to err, to cry, to grow. To love through all — tbis is tbe way to k^oW. 41 0%d ^uZeQeaCingf ^xJbtgfcCs SUDDENLY and witKout warning tKey came Tke Revealing Angels came. Suddenly and simultaneously, tnrougn city streets TKrougt quiet lanes and country roads tney walked They walked crying: "" God Kas sent us. to rind The vilest sinners or eartn. We are to bring tKem before Kim, terore tne Lord or Life. Tneir voices were like bugles; And tben all war, all strife , And all tbe noises of tbe -world grew still; And no one talked: And no one toiled, but many strove to flee away. Robbers and tbieves, and those sunk in drunken- ness and crime. Men and -women of evil repute. And mothers with fatherless children in their arms, all strove to hide. But the Revealing Angels passed them by. Saying: " Not you, not you. Another day, -w^hen -w^e shall come again Unto the haunts of men. Then -we -will call your names ; But God has asked us first to bring to him Those guilty of greater shames Than lust, or theft, or drunkenness, or vice Yea, greater than murder done in passion. Or self-destruction done m dark despair. Now in his Holy Name -we call: Come one and all; Come forth; reveal your faces. Then through the a-wful silence of the Avorld. xV here noise had ceased, they came The sinful hosts. They came from lovely and from lofty places. Some poorly clad, but many clothed like queens; They came from scenes of revel and from toil. From haunts of sm, from palaces, from homes. From boudoirs, and from churches. They came like ghosts The vast brigades of women who had slain Their helpless, unborn children. With them trailed Lovers and husbands -who had said, " Do this, ' And those -who helped for hire. They stood before the Angels —before the Revealing Angels they stood. And they heard the Angels say. And all the listening -world heard the Angela say : " These are the vilest sinners of all ; For the Lord of Life made sex that birth might come ; Made sex and its keen, compelling desire To fashion bodies -wherein souls might go 42 -^^v^iv^^^-ivjt^v ^v---^^^-:;^*> From lower planes to nigher Until tlie end is readied (wliicK is Beginning.) TKey Kave stolen tke costly pleasures of tke senses And refused to pay God's price. TKey kave come togetker, tkese men and tkese women. As male and female tkey kave come togetker In tke great creative act. Tkey kave invited souls, and tken flung tkem out into space: Tkey kave made a jest of God s design. All otker sins look wkite teside tkis sinning; All otker sins may ke condoned, forgiven ; All otker sinners may ke cleansed and skriven: Not tkese, not tkese. Pass on, and meet God s eyes. Tke vast krigade moved forward, and bekind tkem walked tke Angels. ^^alked tke sorrowful Revealing Angels. 43 ARROW AND BOW IT IS easy to stand in tne pulpit or in tne closet to kneel And say — "God do tKis ; God do that — Make the world better; relieve tne sorrows of man ; for the sake of Thy Son On, forgive all sin. Tnen having planned out God s w^ork, to feel Our duty is done. It IS easy to be religious this \vay. Easy to pray. It IS narder to stand on the Kighvk'ay, or w^alk in tne crow^ded mart; And say "I am He; I am He; Mine the w^orld burden ; mine the sorro^vs of men ; mine is tne Cnrist work To forgive my brother s sin ; and tben to live the Christ part And never to shirk. It IS nard for you and me To be religious tnis w^ay. Day after day. But God is no longer in Heaven ; w^e droveHim out with our prayers ; Drove Him out w^itn our sermons and creeds, and our endless plaints and despairs. He came dow^n over the borders, and Cnrist too came along; They are looking tne wnole world over to see just vi^Kat is >vrong. God has grow^n weary of hearing His praises sung on eartn ; And Jesus is w^eary of hearing the story about His birtn ; And tne ^vay to win Their favor, that is surer tnan any otner. Is to join in a song of Brotherhood and praises of one another. No, God IS no longer in Heaven; He has come doNvn on earth to see That nothing is wrong with the world He made ; THE WRONG IS IN YOU AND ME. He meant the earth for a garden spot, ^vhere mill and factory stand ; Childhood He meant for grow^ing time ; but look at the toiling band ! Woman w^as meant for mother and mate ; now look at the slaves of lust. And the good folks shake their heads and say We must pray to God and trust. God has a billion books of our prayers unopened upon his shelves. For the things w^e are begging of Him to do. He wants us to do ourselves. 44 JeKovali Jesus, and each soul in space Are one, and undividatle. Until We see God sKinin^ in eacK neigKtor s face And find Him in ourselves and Kail Him there. Let us be still. WKat use is prayer? How can we love tKe wKole, and not eacn part? How worship God, and harbor in the heart Hate oi God's members? (for all men are that.) Too long our souls have sat. Like poor blind beggars at the door of God He never made a beggar — We are kings ! Let us rise up, for it is time we trod The mountain tops ; time that we did the things We have so long asked God to do. He waits for you To look deep in your brother's eyes and see The God within; To hear you say "Lo, thou art, thou art He. This is the only way to end all sin. The difficult, one way. A prayer without a deed is an arrow without a bow-string ; A deed without a prayer is a how-string without an arrow. The heart of a man should be like a quiver full of arrows. And the hand of a man should be like a strong bow strung for action. The heart of a man should keep his arrows ever ascending. And the hand and the mind of a man should keep at a work unending. IT MATTERS ONLY Carthage has gone, and Nineveh and Tyre! Yea, thrice has Carthage in the dust been laid. Of other, older, cities. Time has made Dry kindling, for Ambition's funeral pyre. This is the certain end of all desire. Our work must perish and our dreams must fade; Yet do I wake, each morning, undismayed. To dream new dreams, to labor, and aspire. It does not matter that my name must die. My structures fall and nothing leave behind. My best achievements pass away forever; It matters only that immortal I Feel God is in my heart and soul and mind. Urging me on and on to new endeavor. 45 "Jatfii eran dSo n MY grana-aame, vigorous at eignty-onc, Delignts in talking or ner only son, ^y gallant rattier, long since aead and gone. ** Ak, tut lie was tne laa ! She says, and signs, ana looks at me askance. How -well I read tne meaning or tnat glance — *' Poor son or sucn a dad; Poor weakling, dull and sad. I could, but would not, tell ner bitter trutn About my fathers youtn. SKe says: "Your ratber laugbed bis way tnrougb eartb: He laugbed rigbt m tbe doctor s race at birtb — Sucb ]oy or lire be bad, sucb founts of nurtb. Ab, wbat a lad -was be! And tben sbe sigbs. I feel ber silent blame. Because I brougbt ber notbmg but bu name* 46 Because she ooes not see Her •worsnipca son m me. I could, out 'would not. speak m my aerense A.nent tne aitierence. She says: *' He won all prizes m nis time. He over'workea, and aiea betore nis prime. At hign amoition s door, I lay tne crime. AK, -wliat a laa he -was! ' Well, let ner rest in that aeceiving tnougkt. Or wnat avail to say, " His deatn was brought By broken sexual la-ws, Xne ancient siniul cause. I could, out "woula not, tell tne good old dame Xne story oi nis sname. I could say : " I am crippled, weak, and pale, Because my ratner -svas an unleasned male. Because ne ran so fast, I halt and rail. (An, yes, ne -was tne lad!) Because ne drained eacn cup or sense-deligKt I must go tKirsting, thirsting, day and night. Because he was joy-mad, I must he alw^ays sad. Because he learned no law or 5elr-control, I am a hlighted soul.' Or what avail to speak and spoil her jgy. Better to see her disapproving eyes. And, silent, hear her say, between her sighs, "Ah, hut he was the hoy! m w^^ 47 EUROPE L ITTLE lads and grandsires. Women old with care ; But all men are dyin^ men Or dead men over tKere. No one stops to dig graves ; WKo lias time to spare? TKe dead men, tne dead men How tKe dead men stare! Kings are out a-Kunting — OK, tKe sport IS rare ; WitK dying men and dead men Falling everyw^Kere. Life Tor lads and grandsires ; Spoils for kings to sKare ; And dead men, dead men Dead men everywKere. THE SUITORS TKere is a little Bungalow, PercKed on a granite ledge. And at its feet two suitors meet ; (I watcK tKem, and I know) One w^aits outside tKe casement edge; One paces to and fro. TKe Patient Rock speaks not a word ; TKe Sea goes up and down. And sings full oft, in cadence soft; (I listen, and Kave Keard) Again Ke w^ears an angry frow^n By jealous passion stirred. TKis daw^n, tKe Rock was all aglow; Far out tKe mad Sea w^ent. Beyond tKe raft, like one gone daft; (I saw^ tKem, and I know^) WKile radiant and w^ell content Smiled dow^n tKe Bungalow^. TKat was at Dawn ; ere day Kad set, TKe Sea witK pleading voice Came back to woo Kis love anew; (I saw tKem wKen tKey met) And now I kno>v not wKicK Ker cKoice- (TKe Rock's gray face was wet.) fe^' 48 OCCUPATION THERE must in Heaven be many industries And occupations, varieJ, infinite. Or Heaven coula not be Heaven. Wnat gra- cious tasks TKe Mighty Maker of the Universe Can offer souls, that have prepared on earth By holding lovely thoughts and fair desires ! 4 Art thou a poet to ^vhom w^ords come not! A dumb composer of unuttered sounds. Ignored by fame and to the w^orld unknow^n? Thine may be, then, the mission to create Immortal lyrics and immortal strains. For stars to chant together as they swing About the holy centre ^vhere God dwells. Hast thou the artist instinct w^ith no skill To give it form or color? Unto thee It may be given to paint upon the skies Astounding daw^ns and sunsets, framed by seas And mountains ; or to fashion and adorn New faces for sw^eet pansies and new^ dyes To tint their velvet garments. Oftentimes Methinks behind a beauteous flower I see Or in the tender glory of a daw^n. The presence of some spirit -who has gone Into the Place of Mystery, whose call Imperious and compelling, sounds for all Or soon or late. So many have passed on — So many with ambitions, hopes and aims Unrealized, who could not be content As idle Angels, even in paradise. The unknown Michael Angelos, w^ho lived With thoughts on beauty bent w^hile chained to toil That gave them only bread and burial — These must find w^aiting in the World of Space The shining timbers of their splendid dreams Ready for shaping Temples, Shrines and Tow^ers Where radiant hosts may congregate to raise Their glad hosannas to the God Supreme. And w^ill there not be gardens glorious And Mansions all embosomed among blooms. Where heavenly children reach out loving arms To lonely women •who have been denied On earth, the longed for boon of Motherhood? Surely God has provided w^ork to do For souls like these, and for the w^eary, rest 49 OH, POOR SICK WORLD LORD of all the Universe, when I think oj YO U, Flinging stars out into space, moving suns and tides; Then this little mortal mind, gets the larger view; And the carping self of me, runs away and hides. Then I see all shadowed paths, leading out to Light; See the false things fade away, leaving but the True; See the wrong things slay themselves, leaving only Right; When this little mortal mind, gets the larger view. Cavillings at this and that, censure, doubt and fear. Fly, as fly before the dawn, insects of the night; Life and Death are understood; everything seems clear. All the wrong things slay themselves, leaving only Right. TKe World has walked witli lever in its veins For many and many a day. On, poor sick World! Not knowing all its dreams of greed and gain Oi semsh conquest and possession, w^ere Disordered visions of a brain diseased. Now tlie World's malady is at its neignt And there is foul contagion in its breath. It raves of death and slaughter ; and the stars Shake w^ith reverberations of its cries. And the sad seas are troubled and dismerged. So must it rave — this sick and suffering world — Until the old secretions in its blood Are emptied out and purged away by w^ar ; And the deep seated cankers of the mind Begin the healing process. Then a calm Shall come upon the earth ; and that loved w^ord PEACE, shall be understood from shore to shore. Shriek on, mad World. The Great Physician sits Serenely conscious of the coming change. Nor seeks to check the fever; it must run Until its course is finished. He can wait. He feels but pity for His ailing charge — Not blame or anger. And He knows the hour Will surely dawn w^hen that sick child shall ^vake Free from all frenzied fancies, and shall turn Clear-seeing eyes upon the face of Ood. In His vast Solar Systems He has seen So many other Worlds delirious. Lord of all the Universe when I think of YO U, Then this little mortal mind gets the larger view. Then I see all shadowed paths leading into Light, Where the wrong things slay themselves, leaving only Right. Oh, poor sick World ! 50 I WONDER I READ tKe morning news Here in tKis cosy spot. And life seems a thing most sweet. I wonder w^oula 1 meet TKe coming day with as glad a thought Had I toiled all night till the break o( dawn That the world might know what is gomg on. I read, and rest, and dream Beside the glowmg grate. And life seems warm and good. I wonder if it would Had it happened that mine were the fate To dig like a worm in the deep dark mold That the world above me might keep off cold. Out on the deck I sit While the ship speeds on apace ; Oh, life IS a joy at sea. I wonder w^ould it be Had it happened that mine were the place Down in the hot, close hold of the boat To stoke the engine and keep it afloat. On the flying train I speed Off for a holiday ; And life is a lazy dream. I w^onder how it w^ould seem If I sat while the dark night paled to gray Watching the signals with eyes astrain And my whole thought bent on guiding the train. Guardian angels who fill sky spaces. Unseen Helpers and Spirit Friends, Bless all the toilers in humble places On whom the comfort of earth depends. And waken the heart of the world till it heed Their cry of need. THE WINDS OF FATE One ship drives east and another drives west With the self-same winds that blow; 'Tis the set of the sails And not the gales That tells them the way to go. Like the winds of the sea are the winds of fate As we voyage along through life; Tis the set of the soul That decides its goal And not the calm or the strife. 51 A mertca AM tKe refuge of all tKe oppressed, I am tne boast oi tKe free, I am the naroor where ships may rest Safely twixt sea and sea. I hold up a torch to a darkened \vorld, I lighten the path w^ith its ray. Let my hand keep steady And let me oe ready For Avhatever comes my way — Let me be ready. Oh, better than fortresses, better than guns. Better than lance or spear. Are the loyal hearts of my daughters and sons. Faithful and without fear. But my daughters and sons must under- stand That Attila did not die. And they must be ready. Their hands must be steady. If the hosts of hell come nigh — They must be ready. If Jesus were back on the earth w^ith men. He would not preach today Until He had made him a scourge, and again He \vould drive the defilers away. He w^ould throw down the tables of lust and greed And scatter the changers' gold. He would be ready. His hand w^ould be steady. As it was in that temple of old — He would be ready. I am the cradle of God s new world. From me shall the new^ race rise. And my glorious banner must unfurled. Unsullied against the skies. My sons and daughters must be strength. With courage to do and to dare. With hearts that are ready. With hands that are steady. And their slogan must be. Prepare! — They must be ready! float my With a prayer on the lip they must shoulder arms. For after all has been said. We must muster guns. If w^e master Huns — And Attila is not dead — We must be ready! 52 53 SONGS OF LOVE AND THE SEA $ I WHEN first we met (tKe Sea and I), Like one before a King I stood in awe ; nor felt nor saw TKe sun, tKe winds, tKe eartK, the sky Or any otKer tKing. God's Universe to me. Was just tKe Sea. WKen next we met, tKe lordly Main Played but a courtier s part ; Crowned Queen was I ; and eartK and sky. And sun and sea were my domain. Since love was in my Keart. Before, beyond, above. Was only Love. II Love built me on a little rock, A little Kouse of pine ; At first, tKe Sea Beat angrily About tKat Kouse of mine; (TKat dear, dear Kome of mine). But wKen it turned to go away Beyond tKe sandy track, Down o'er its wall TKe Kouse would call. Until tKe Sea came back ; (It always Kurried back). And now tKe two Kave grown so fond, (OK, breatKe no word of tKis), WKen clouds Kang low. And east winds blow, TKey meet and kiss and kiss; (At nigKt, I Kear tKem kiss). Ill No man can understand tKe Sea until He knows all passions of tKe senses, all TKe great emotions of tKe Keart, and eacK Exalted aspiration of tKe soul. TKen may Ke sit beside tKe sea and say: "I, too, Kave flung myself against tKe rocks. And kissed tKeir flinty brows witK no return. And fallen spent upon unfeeling sands. I, too, Kave gone fortK yearning, to far sKores, Seeking tKat sometKing wKicK would bring content. And finding only wKat I took away ; And I Kave looked up tKrougK tKe veil of skies WKen all tKe world was still, and understood TKat I am one with Nature and witK God." 54 IV Tne Da\vn -was nyingf from tKe NigKt ; Sw^iit as tne wind sne sped ; Her hair was like a fleece of ligKt; Her cheeks w^ere >varni and red. All passion pale, the Ni^ht pursued ; Dne ned away, away ; And in ner garments, rainbow^ nued. She gained tKe peak of day. And tnen, all snaken with alarms, Sne leaped dow^n from its crest Into the Sea s uplifted arms. And swooned upon nis treast. THE HEIGHTS I cried. Dear Angel, lead me to tne heights. And spur me to the top. Tne Angel answered. Stop And set thy house in order; make it fair For absent ones w^ho may be speeding there; Then will we talk of heights. I put my house in order Now lead on ! The Angel said, "Not yet; Thy garden is beset By thorns and tares ; go weed it, so all those Who come to gaze may find the unvexed rose ; Then will we journey on. I weeded well my garden. All is done. The Angel shook his head. 'A beggar stands, he said "Outside thy gates; till thou hast given heed And soothed his sorrow^, and supplied his need. Say not that all is done. The beggar left me singing. Now at last — At last the path is clear. 'Nay, there is one draws near Who seeks, like thee, the dimcult highw^ay. He lacks thy courage; cheer him through the day; Then will we cry, 'At last. I helped my w^eaker brother. Now^ the heights ; Oh, guide me. Angel, guide ! The Presence at my side. With radiant face, said, "Look w^here are w^e now^?' And lo ! w^e stood upon the mountain s brow — The heights, the ehining heights! 55 r m&^^m^mi s 'AD man, sad man, tell me, pray, What did you see to-day ? I saw the unloved and unhappy old waiting for slow, delinquent death to come; Pale little children toiling for the rich, in rooms where sunlight is ashamed to go ; The awful almshouse, where the living dead rot slowly in their hideous, open graves. And there were shameful things: Soldiers and forts, and industries of death, and devil-ships, and loud-winged devil-hirds. All bent on slaughter and destruction. These and yet more shame- ful things mine eyes teheld : Old men upon lascivious conquest bent, and young men living with no thought of God. And half-clothed women puffing at a weed, aping the vices of the under^vorld, Engrossed in shallow pleasures, and intent on being barren wives. These things I saw. (Ho^v God must loathe his earth!) 56 Glad man, glad man, tell me, pray. What did you sec to-day? I saw an aged couple in vvKose eyes SKone tKat deep ligKt of mingled love and {aitK WKicK makes the eartK one room of paradise And leaves no sting in death. I saw vast regiments of children pour. Rank after rank, out of the schoolroom door. By Progress mobilized. They seemed to say: "Let ignorance make way. We are the heralds of a better day. I saw the college and the church that stood For all things sane and good. I saw God s helpers in the shop and slum Blazing a path for health and hope to come. And True Religion, from the grave of creeds. Springing tomeet man s needs. I saw great Science reverently stand And listen for a sound from Border-land, No longer arrogant with unbelief. Holding itself aloof. But drawing near and searching high and low For that complete and all convincing proof Which shall permit its voice to comfort grief. Saying, "We know. I saw fair women in their radiance rise And trample old traditions in the dust. Looking in their clear eyes. I seemed to hear these words as from the skies, "He who would father our sweet childrea must Be worthy of the trust. Against the rosy dawn, I saw unfurled The banner of the race we usher in The supermen and -women of the world. Who make no code of sex to cover sin. Before they till the soil of parenthood. They look to it that seed and soil are good. And I saw, too, that old. old sight, and best Pure mothers with dear babies at the breast. These things I saw. (How God must love his earth!) WE MUST SEND THEM OUT TO PLAY NOW mucK tKere is need of doing must not be done in Kaste ; But slowly and witK patience, as a jungle is changed to a town. But listen, my trotKers, listen ; it is not always so : WKen a murderer's Kand is lifted to kill, tKere is no time to w^aste ; And the way to change his purpose is first to knock him dow^n And teach him the law of kindness after you give him the blow^. The acorn you plant in the morning will not give shade at noon ; And the thornless cactus must be bred by year on year of toil. But listen, my brothers, listen ; it is not ever the way. For the roots of the poison ivy plant you cannot pull too soon ; If you would better your garden and make the most of your soil. Hurry and dig up the evil things and cast them out today. The ancient sin of the nations no law can ever efface ; We must wait for the mothers of men to grow, and give clean souls to their sons. But listen, my brothers, listen ; when a child cries out in pain. We must rise from the banquet board and go, though the host is saying grace ; We must rise and find the Herod of Greed, who is killing our little ones. Nor ever go back to the banquet until the monster is slain. The strong man waits for justice, with lifted soul and eyes. As a sturdy oak will face the storm and does not break or bow. But listen, my brothers, listen ; the child is a child for a day ; If a merciless foot treads down each shoot, how can the forest rise? We are robbing the race w^hen w^e rob a child ; w^e must rescue the children NOW ; We must rescue the little slaves of Greed and send them out to play. 58 RECRIMINATION SAID Life to DeatK, "MetKinks if I were you, I would not carry sucK an awesome face To terrify tKe helpless Kuman race. And, if, indeea, tnose w^ondrous tales te true Of happiness beyond, and if I knew About the boasted blessings of that place, I w^ould not hide so miserly all trace Of my vast know^ledge. Death, if I w^ere you ; But like a glorious angel I would lean Above the pathway of each sorrowing soul, Hope in my eyes, and comfort m my breath. And strong conviction in my radiant mien. The w^hile I w^hispered of that beauteous goal; This would do, if I were you, O Death !" II Said Death to Life, "If I were you, my friend, I w^ould not lure confiding souls each day With fair false smiles, to enter on a w^ay So filled w^ith pain and trouble to the end. I w^ould not tempt those w^hom I should defend. Nor stand unmoved and see them go astray. Nor w^ould I force unw^illing souls to stay Who longed for freedom, w^ere I you, my friend. But like a tender mother I >vould take The Aveary w^orld upon my sheltering breast And w^ipe away its tears, and soothe its strife. I would fulfill my promises, and make My children bless me as they sank to rest Where now^ they curse — if I w^ere you, O Life !" Ill Life made no answ^er ; and Death spoke again : T w^ould not w^oo from God s s^veet nothingness A soul to being, if I could not bless And crow^n it >vith all joy. If unto men My face seems aw^esome, tell me. Life, w^hy then Do they pursue me, mad for my caress. Believing m my silence lies redress For your loud falsehoods? (So Death spoke again.) Oh, it IS u'ell for you I am not fair. Well that I hide behind a voiceless tomb The mighty secrets of that other place ; Else w^ould you stand m impotent despair While unfledged souls straight from the mother's w^omb Rushed to my arms, and spat upon your face.' 59 CHRIST CRUCIFIED NOW ere I slept, my prayer had been tnat I migKt see my way To do tne will of Cnrist, our Lord and Master, day by day ; And w^itK this prayer upon my lips, I knew^ not tnat I dreamed. But suddenly tne w^orld of nignt a pandemonium seemed. From forest, and from slaughter house, from bull ring, and from stall. There rose an anguished cry of pain, a loud, appealing call; As man— the dumb beast s next of kin — w^ith gun, and w^hip, and knife. Went pleasure-seeking through the earth, blood-bent on taking life. From trap, and cage, and house, and zoo, and street, that awful strain Of tortured creatures rose and s^velled the orchestra of pain. And then methought the gentle Christ appeared to me, and spoke : "I called ye, but ye answ^ered not — and in my fear I woke. The next I heard the roar of mills ; and moving through the noise. Like phantoms in an underworld, w^ere little girls and boys. Their backs w^ere bent, their bro^vs w^ere pale, their eyes were sad and old. But, by the labor of their hands greed added gold to gold. Again the Presence and the Voice : Behold the crimes I see. As ye have done it unto these, so have ye done to me." Again I slept. I seemed to climb a hard ascending track ; And just behind me labored one w^hose patient face w^as black. I pitied him ; but hour by hour he gained upon the path ; He stood beside me, stood upright — and then I turned m wrath. Go back ! I cried. What right have you to ^valk beside me here? For you are black, and I am w^hite. I paused, struck dumb ^vlth fear. 60 For lo ! the black man was not there, but Cnrist stood m his place ; And on ! tne pain, tne pain, the pain tnat looked from that dear face. Now^ >vhen I woke, tne air w^as rife w^ith tnat sw^eet, rhythmic din Wbicb tells tne w^orld tnat Cnrist bas come to save mankind from sm. And through the open door of churcb and temple passed a throng To w^orship Him w^itb bended knee, w^itb sermon and w^itb song. But over all I beard tbe cry of bunted, mangled tbings ; Tbose creatures w^bicb are part of God, tbougb tbey bave boots and w^mgs. I saw^ in mill, and mine, and sbop, tbe little slaves of greed ; I beard tbe strife of race witb race, all sprung from one God-seed. And tben I bow^ed my bead in sbame, and in contrition cried — "Lo, after nineteen bundred years Cbrist still is Cruci- fied." *^ PROTEST' To sit in silence wben ^ve sbould protest Makes cow^ards of men. Tbe buman race Has climbed on protest. Had no voice been raised Against injustice, ignorance, and lust, Tbe Inquisition yet w^ould serve tbe law^ And guillotines decide our least disputes. Tbe fe^v w^bo dare must speak and speak again. To rigbt tbe wrongs of many. Speall! Tbank God, No vested pow^er in tbis great day and land Can gag and throttle ; press and voice may cry Loud disapproval of existing ills. May criticise oppression, and^ condemn The law^Iessness of wealtb-protecting laws Tbat let tbe cbildren and cbild bearers toil To purchase ease for idle millionaires. Tberefore do I protest against tbe boast Of independence in tbis migbty land. Call no cbam strong w^bicb bolds one rusted link; Call no land free tbat bolds one fettered slave ; Until tbe manacled, slim w^rists of babes Are loosed to toss in cbildisb sport and glee ; Until tbe Motber bears no burden save The precious one beneatb ber beart ; until God s soil is rescued from tbe clutcb of greed And given back to Labor; let no man Call tbis tbe land of Freedom. 61 Tl^cuetyin fkeSfatioffM^use LAST nigKt I walked along the city street - And smiled at men; tkey saw tiie ancient sm In my young eyes, and one said. Come witn me. I went witK Kim, believing my poor purse Would fatten witK Kis gold. He brought me here And turned the key upon me. In an nour, I shall be called before the judge and fined. Because I have solicited. How^ strange And inexplicable a thing is law — How curious its w^hys, and why-nots ! I Was young and innocent of evil thought A few brief years ago. My brother's friend, A social favorite to w^hom all doors Were open (and a church communicant). Sought me, soliciting my faith and trust, - And brushed the dew^ of virtue from my lips ; Then left me to my solitary thoughts. Death and misfortune entered on the scene; I \vas thrown out to battle with the ^vorld, And hide the anguish of a maid deflowered. I left my first employer, — left because He, too, solicited those favors that No contract mentions, but which seem to be Expected duties by unwritten law In many business-houses. Soon I learned That virtue is, indeed, its own reward. And often finds no other. My poor wage For honest labor and a decent life Scarce kept me fed and sheltered. Everywhere In ornce, boarding-house, and m church aisles I met the eyes of men soliciting. They sup-plemented pleading looks by w^ords. And laughed at all my scruples. Finally, 1 he one compelling lover had his way. And when he w^earied of me I began The dreary treadmill of the city streets. Soliciting whoever crossed my path To take my favors and to give me gold. Somehow, I cannot seem to understand Why there is law to punish me for that. And none to punish any o sn/O) 63 PAIN'S PURPOSE HOW tlind IS he wno prays that God will send All pain from eartn. Pain has its use and place ; Its ministry of holiness and grace. TKe darker tones upon the canvas blend With light and color; and their shadows lend The painting half its dignity. Enace The sombre background, and you lose all trace Of that perfection which is true art s trend. Life IS an artist seeking to reveal God s majesty and beauty in each soul. If from the palette mortal man could steal The precious pigment pair, w^hy then the scroll Would glare w^ith colors meaningless and bright. Or show^ an empty canvas, blurred with light. LAWNS The roads that from my childhood s home led out. As seasons changed -were paved w^ith dust or snow^ ; And in the summer, bordered all about With unkempt grasses, and wild w^eeds ablow^. I can recall the early ride to to^vn. One soft spring morning in the month of May. (The promised purchase of my Sunday gow^n Lent mystery and glory to the day.) And I recall the feeling even yet. Which stole upon me as w^e neared the place Where country roads Nvith city pavements met. For there life seemed to show^ a fairer face. The gala windows of the tempting store — The throngs of people moving on and on — I loved the sight of these ; but loved still more The vernal splendor of each close cut lawn. Down to the very street from each abode They stretched their lovely lengths, block after block; A comely contrast to the dusty road And w^eedy w^ilds where I was w^ont to w^alk. They lay like velvet carpets soft and bright. Spread for the feet of Beauty and Repose. My unformed mind w^as moved by pure delight. And something sweet and tender in me rose. A vision nebulous and indistinct Lifted my fancy to a world ideal Where earth and fairyland w^ere interlinked And all the might be s of this life Avere real. 64 And ■where the country places all were towns. With gala windows filled with What-we-Seek ; Where little children wore their Sunday gowns And danced on emerald lawns throughout the week. bo in her •wonderhouse oi beauteous wares Which Life has shown to me, a green lawn seems Like tapestries thrown over flights of stairs On which I mounted to my world of dreams. I AM RUNNING FORTH TO MEET YOU I am running forth to meet you, O my Master, For they tell me you are surely on the w^ay ; Yes, they tell me you are coming back again (While I run, while I run). And I wish my feet were winged to speed on faster. And I wish I might behold you here today. Lord of men. I am running, yet 1 ■walk beside my neighbor. And I take the duties given me to do ; Yes, I take the daily duties as they fall (While I run, while I run). And my heart runs with my hand and helps the labor. For I think this is the way that leads to you. Lord of all. I am running, yet 1 turn from toil and duty. Oftentimes to just the art of being glad ; Yes, to just the joys that make the earth-world bright (While I run, while I run). For the soul that •worships God must worship beauty. And the heart that thinks of You can not be sad. Lord of Light. I am running, yet I pause to greet my brother. And I lean to nd my garden of its weed ; Yes. I lean, although I lift my thoughts above (While I run, ^vhlle I run). And 1 think of that command. Love one another. As I hear discordant sounds of creed w^ith creed. Lord of Love. I am running, and the road is lit w^ith splendor. And it brightens and shines fairer with each span Yes, it brightens like the highway in a dream (While I run, w^hile I run). And my heart to all the w^orld grow^s very tender. For I seem to see the Christ in every man. Lord supreme. 65 \ ^^^. .^. HIS LAST LETTER WELL, you are tree ; The longed-for, lied-for, waited-for decree Is yours to-day. I made no protest — and you nad your say. And left me witK no vestige of repute. "Neglect, aouse. and cruelty" you cKarge, Witn broken marnage-vows. TKe list was large. But not to be denied. So I was mute. Now you sball listen to a few plain facts Before you go out wholly from my life As some man s wife. Read carefully this statement of your acts Which changed the luster of my honeymoon To somber gloom. And wrenched the cover from Pandora s box. In those first talks 'Twixt bride and groom, I sho\ved you my whole neart,- Showed you how deep my love Nvas and how^ true ^ With all a strong man s feeling I loved ^OU. (God, how I loved you, my own chosen mate!) But I learned this (So poorly did you play your little part) : You married marriage — to avoid the fate Of having "Miss" Carved on your tombstone. Love you did not know; But you were greedy for the show^y things That money brings. Such weak affection as you could besto^v Was given the provider, not the lover. The knowledge hurt. Keen pain like that is dumb s: 66 \ f And masks itself in smiles, lest men discover. But I was lonely, and the feeling grew The more I studied you. Into your shallow heart love could not come; But yet you loved my love, because it gave The prowess of a mistress o'er a slave. You show^ed your power In petty tyranny, hour after hour. Day after day, year after lengthening year; My tasks, my pleasures, my pursuits were not Held near or dear. Or made to seem important in your thought. My friends were not your friends; you goaded me By foolish and ignoble jealousy. Till, through suggestion's laws, I gave you cause. The beauteous ideal love had hung In my soul's shrine. And worshiped as a something all divine. With wanton hand you flung Into the dust. And then you wondered why My love should die. My sins and derelictions cry aloud To all the world. My head is bowed Under its merited reproaches. Yours Is lifted to receive The sympathy the court's decree insures. 1 he world loves to believe In Man s depravity and Woman's worth; ijut I am one of many men on earth Whose loud, resounding fall Is like the crashing of some well-built wall. Which those who seek can trace To the slow work of insects at its base. Be not afraid ; The alimony will be promptly paid. HUSKS SHE looked at Ker neigKbor's house in tlie light of tKe waning day — ■ A sKower of rice on the steps and tne snreds oi a bride s bouquet. And tben she drew tbe sKade, to sKut out tke growing gloom. But she shut it into her heart instead. (Was that a voice in the room?) " "My neighbor is sad," she sighed, "like the mother bird ■who sees The last of her brood fly out of the nest to make its home in the trees — And then in a passion of tears — "But, oh, to be sad like her ; Sad for a joy that has come and gone ! (Did some one speak, or stir?) She looked at her faded hands, all burdened with costly rings ; She looked on her widowed home, all burdened with priceless things. She thought of the dead years gone, of the empty years ahead — (Yes, something stirred and something spake, and this was ^vhat it said :) " The voice of the Might Have Been speaks here through the lonely dusk; Life offered the fruits of love; you gathered only the husk- There are jewels ablaze on your breast where never a child has slept." She covered her face with her ringed old hands, and wept, and wept, and wept. NEUTRAL That pale word "Neutral" sits becomingly On lips of weaklings. But the men whose brains Find fuel in their blood, the men whose minds Hold sympathetic converse with their hearts. Such men are never neutral. That word stands Unsexed and impotent in Realms of Speech When mighty problems face a startled world No virile man is neutral. Right or wrong His thoughts go forth, assertive, unafraid To stand by his convictions, and to do Their part in shaping issues to an end. Silence may guard the door of useless >vords. At dictate of Discretion ; but to stand Without opinions in a w^orld w^hich needs Constructive thinking, is a cow^ard a part. 68 PEACE SHOULD NOT COME thii foul eartn w^e Cleanse the PEACE snould not come alon< way. Peace snould not come, until eartn. (joa waited for us ; now^ in a\vful ^vratK lie pours tne blooa of men out day by day To purify the highroad for her feet. Why, what would Peace do, in a world where hearts. Are filled with thoughts like poison-pointed darts? It \vere not meet, surely it ^vere not meet For Peace to come, and with her white robes hide These industries of death — these guns and swords, — These uniformed, hate-iilled, destructive hordes. — These hideous things, that are each nation's pride. So long as men believe in armed might Let arms be brandished. Let not Peace be sought Until the race-heart empties out all thought Of blows and blood, as arguments for Right. The world has never had enough of war. Else war were not. Now let the monster stand Until he slays himself with his own hand ; Though no man knows what he is fighting for. Then in the place where wicked cannons stood Let Peace erect her shrine of Brotherhood. THE TRAVELER Bristling with steeples, high against the hill. Like some great thistle in the rosy dawn It stood ; the To\vn-of-Christian-Churches, stood. The Traveler surveyed it with a smile. Surely, He said, "here is the home of peace ; xlere neighbor lives with neighbor in accord, (jod in the heart of all; else why these spires? ' (Christmas season, and every bell ringing.) 1 he sudden shriek of whistles changed the sound From mellow^ music into jarring noise. 1 hen down the street pale hurrying children came. And vanished in the ya\vning factory door. He called to them: "Come back, come unto Me. ' The foreman cursed, and caned Him from the place. (Christmas season, and every bell ringing.) Forth from two churches came two men, and met. Disputing loudly over boundary lines. Hate in their eyes, and murder in their hearts. A haughty woman drew her skirts aside Because her fallen sister passed that way. The Traveler rebuked them all. Amazed, They asked in indignation, "Who are you. Daring to interfere in private lives?" The Traveler replied, "My name is CHRIST." (Christmas season, and every bell ringing.) 'h 69 DIVORCED THINKING of one tiling all day long, at nigKt I fall asleep, brain >veary and neart sore ; But only for a little wKile. At three. Sometimes at t>vo o clock, I wake and lie. Staring out into darkness ; ■while my thoughts Begin the w^eary tread-mill toil again. From that w^hite marriage morning of our youth Dow^n to this dreadful hour. I see your face Lit with the lovelight of the honeymoon ; I hear your voice, that lingered on my name As if it loved each letter ; and I feel The clinging of your arms about my form. Your kisses on my cheek — and long to break The anguish of such memories with tears. But cannot weep ; the fountain has run dry. We were so young, so happy, and so full Of keen, sw^eet joy of life. I had no w^ish Outside your pleasure ; and you loved me so That when I sometimes felt a woman s need For more serene expression of man s love (The need to rest in calm artection s bay And not sail ever on the stormy main). Yet w^ould I rouse myself to your desire ; Meet ardent kisses with kisses just as w^arm ; So nothing I could give should be denied. And then our children came. Deep in my soul. From the first hour of conscious motherhood, I knew^ I should conserve myself for this Most holy oince ; knew God meant it so. Yet even then, I held your wishes first; And by my double duties lost the bloom And freshness of my beauty; and beheld A look of disapproval in your eyes. But w^ith the coming of our precious child. The lover s smile, tinged w^ith the father s pride. Returned again ; and helped to make me strong ; And life w^as very sweet for both of us. Another, and another birth, and twice The little w^hite hearse paused beside our door And took away some portion of my youth With my sweet babies. At the first you seemed 70 To suffer w^ith me, standing very near; But >vnen I >vept too long, you turnea aw^ay. And I -was nurt, not realizing tnen My grief ^vas semsh I could see tne cnange WKich motnernood and sorrow made in me ; And wKen I saw tKe change that came to you, Saw^ now^ your eyes looked past me w^nen you talked. And w^Ken I missed the love tone from your voice, I did that foolish thing w^eak w^omen do. Complained, and cried, accused you of neglect. And made myself oonoxious in your sight. And often, after you had left my side. Alone I stood before my mirror, mad With anger at my pallid cheeks, my dull Unlighted eyes, my shrunken mother-breasts. And w^ept, and w^ept, and faded more and more. How could I hope to win back wandering love. And make new flames in dying embers leap By such ungracious means? And then She came. Firm-bosomed, round of cheek, with such young eyes. And all the ways of youth. I who had died A thousand deaths in waiting the return Of that old love-look to your face once more. Died yet again and went straight into hell When I beheld it come at her approach. My God ! My God ! How have I borne it all ! Yet since she had the power to wake that look — The power to sweep the ashes from your heart Of burned-out love of me, and light new nres. One thing remained for me — to let you go. I had no wish to keep the empty frame From which the priceless picture had been wrenched. Nor do I blame you ; it was not your fault : You gave me all that most men can give — love Of youth, of beauty, and of passion ; and I gave you full return ; my w^omanhood Matched well your manhood. Yet had you grown ill. Or old, and unattractive from some cause (Less close than was my service unto you), I should have clung the tighter to you, dear; And loved you, loved you, loved you more and more. I grow^ so weary thinking of these things ; Day in, day out, and half the awful nights. 71 HAPPINES S rHERE arc so many little things which make life beautiful. I can recall a day m early youth when I ^\'as long- ing for happiness. Toward the western hills I gazed, watcning for its ap- proach. The hills lay between me and the setting sun, and over them led a highNvay. When some traveler crossed the hill, always a nne gray dust rose cloudlilce against the sky. The traveler I could not distinguish, but the dust-cloud I could see. And the dust-cloud seemed formed of hopes and possi- bilities — each speck an embryo event. At sunset, w^hen the skies ^vere fair, the dust-cloud grew^ radiant and shone with visions. Ihe happiness for which I waited came not to me adown that Avestern slope. But now I can recall the cloud of golden dust, the sunset, and the highway leading over the hill, J. he wonderful hope and expectancy of my Keart, tbe visions of youth in my eyes ; and I know this was happiness. There are so many little things which make life beautiful. 1 can recall another day when I rebelled at life's monotony. Everywhere about me was the commonplace ; and nothing seemed to happen. Each day was like its yesterday, and to-morrow gave no promise of change. My young heart rose rebellious in my breast, and I ran aimlessly into the sunlight — the glowing sunlight of June I sent out a dumb cry to Fate, demanding larger joys and more delignt. I ran blindly into a field of blooming clover. It was breast-nign, and billowed about me like rose-red w^aves oi a fragrant sea. The bees were singing above it; and tneir little brow^n bodies were loaded \vitn noney-dew^, extracted from. tne clover blossoms. Xne sun reeled in tne heavens, dizzy witn its ow^n splendor. The day went into nignt, witnout bringing any new event to cnange my life. But now I recall tne field of blooming clover and tKe honey-laden bees, tne glorious June sunlight and the passion of youth in my heart ; and 1 know that \vas happiness. There are so many liltle things which make life beautiful. Yesterday a failure stared me in the face, where I had thought to welcome proud success. There ^vas no radiant cloud of dust against the western sky, and no clover field lying fragrant under mid-June suns ; Neither was youth with me any more. But under the vines that clung against my walls, a fiock of birds sought shelter just at twilight; And, standing at my casement, I could hear the twitter of their voices and the soft, sweet flutter of their ^vlngs. Then over me there fell a sense of peace and calm, and love for all created things, and trust illimitable. And that, I knew, was happiness. There are so many little things which make life beautiful. V -^ THE GULF STREAM SKILLED manner, and counted sane and wise, TKat Avas a curious thing Avnich chanced to me. So good a sailor on so fair a sea. WitK favoring winds and blue unsnadowed skies. Led by tbe faithful beacon of Love s eyes Past reef and sKoal, my life-boat bounded free And fearless of all dangers that might be Under calm waves, where many a sunk rock lies. A golden dawn ; yet suddenly my barque Strained at the sails, as m a cyclone s blast. And battled with an unseen current's force. For we had entered when the night was dark That old tempestuous Gulf Stream of the Past. But for Love's eyes, I had not kept the course. THAT DAY O heart of mine, through all these perfect days. Whether of white Decembers or green Mays, There runs a dark thought like a creeping snake. Or like a black thread which by some mistake Life has strung through the pearls of happy years, A thought which borders all my joy with tears. Some day, some day, or you, or L alone. Must look upon the scenes w^e two have known. Must tread the self-same path we two have trod. And cry in vain to one who is with God To lean down from the Silent Realms and say: "I love you" in the old familiar way. Some day — and each day, beauteous though it be. Brings closer that dread hour for you or me. Fleet-footed joy, who hurries time along. Is yet a secret foe w^ho does us w^rong; Speeding us gaily, though he well doth know Of yonder pathway where but one may go. Ay, one will go. To go is sweet, I wis — Yet God must needs invent some special buss To make His Paradise seem very dear To one who goes and leaves the other here. To sever souls so bound by love and time. For any one but God, w^ould be a crime. Yet death will entertain his own, I think. To one who stays life gives the gall to drink; To one w^ho stays, or be it you or me. There waits the Garden of Gethsemane. O dark, inevitable, and aw^ful day. When one of us must go and one must stay! 74 THE CALL /N the banquet hall of Progress God has bidden to a feast All the women in the East. Some nave said. We are not ready — We must Avait anotner day." Some, Avitn voices clear and steady Lord, Ave near, and we obey." Otners, timid and uncertain. Step fortK trembling in the light. Many hide behind the curtain With their faces hid from sight. In the banquet hall of Progress All must gather soon or late. And the patient Host will wait. It today or ii tomorrow. If m gladness, or in w^oe. If with pleasure, or with sorrow. All must ansAver, all must go. They must go with unveiled faces. Clothed in virtue and in pride. For the Host has set their places. And He w^iU not be denied. JUST YOU All the selfish joys of earth I am getting through. That which used to lure and lead Now^ I pass and give no heed ; Only one thing seems of w^orth — Just you. Not for me the lonely height. And the larger view^ ; Low^lier w^ays seems fair and w^ide. While we w^ander side by side. One thing makes the whole w^orld bright- Just you. Not for distant goals I run. No great aim pursue ; Most of earth s ambitions seem Like the shadow of a dream. All the world to me means one — Just you. 75 NSATISFIED J^ ■i''t.^i :'.1 1::^^ m ^^ 'T^HE bird flies home to its youn§; 1 he flower folds its leaves about an opening bud. And in my neighbor's house there is the cry of a child. I close my window that I need not hear. One IS mine, and she is very beautiiul ; And m ner heart there is no evil thought. There is even love in lier heart — • Love of life, love of joy, love of this fair ^vorla, And love of me (or love of my love for her) ; Yet she ^vlll never consent to bear me a child. Ana \vhen I speak of it she weeps. Always she ^veeps, saying: Do 1 not bring joy enough into your life? Are you not satisned with me and my love. As I am satisfied witb you? Never would I urge you to some great peril 1 o please my w^him ; yet ever so you urge me ; Urge me to risk my happiness — yea, life itself — Do lightly do you hold me. And then she weeps. Always she weeps until I kiss a\vay her tears. And soothe her Avith sweet lies, saying I am content. Then she goes singing through the house like some bright bird Preening her w^ings, making nerself all beautiful. Perching upon my knee, and pecking at my lips With little kisses. So again love s ship Goes sailing forth upon a portless sea. From now^here unto nowhere ; and it takes Or brings no cargoes to enricK the world. The years Are passing by us. We will yet be old Who now^ are young. And all the man in me Cries for the reproduction of myself Through her I love. Why, love and youth like ours Could populate with gods and goddesses This great, green earth, and give the race new types Were it made fruitful! Often I can see. As in a vision, desolate old age And loneliness descending on us two. And no-where in the world, nowhere beyond the earth. Fruit of my loins and of her womb to feed Our hungry hearts. To me it seems More sorrowful than sitting by small graves And wetting sad-eyed pansies w^ith our tears. The bird flies home to its young; The flower folds its leaves about an opening bud. And in my neighbor's house there is the cry of a child. I close my window that I need not hear. 76 77 ALL IN A COACH AND FOUR THE quality folk went riding by All in a coach and four. And pretty Annette, in a calico gown, (Bringing her marketing things from town). Stopped sKort w^ith Ker Sunday store. And Avondered it ever it snould betide Tbat sKe in a long plumed nat w^ould ride Away in a coacn and four. A lord tnere ^vas, on a lonely soul. There in the coach and four; His years were young but his heart ^vas old. And he hated his coaches and hated his gold (Those things w^hich v^^e all adore). And he thought how^ sw^eet it Avould be to trudge Along with the fair little country drudge. And av^'ay from his coach and four. So back he rode the very next day All in his coach and four. And he went each day w^hether dry or w^et. Until he married the sweet Annette (In spite of her lack of lore). But they didn't trudge off on foot together. For he bought her a hat with a long, long feather. And they rode in the coach and four. Now a thing like this could happen ^ve know^. All in a coach and four ; But the fact of it is, twixt me and you. There isn t a word of the story true, (Pardon I do implore). It is only a foolish and fanciful song. That came to me as I rode along. All in a coach and four. A MINOR CHORD I heard a strain of music in the street — A wandering waif of sound. And then straightway A nameless desolation filled the day. The great green earth that had been fair and sweet Seemed but a tomb; the life I thought replete With joy, grew^ lonely for a vanished May. Forgotten sorrow^s resurrected lay Like bleaching skeletons about my feet. Above me stretched the silent, suffering sky Dumb w^ith vast anguish for departed suns That brutal time to nothingness has hurled. The daylight was as sad as smiles that lie Upon the wistful unkissed mouths of nuns. And I stood prisoned in an aw^ful w^orld. 78 THE SQUANDERER G OD gave him passions, splendid as the sun. Meant for the lordhest purposes; a part Of Nature's full and fertile mother heart. From which new systems and 'new worlds are spun. And now behold, behold, what he has done; In Folly's Court and Carnal Pleasure's Mart He flung the wealth life gave him at the start; This of all mortal sins, the deadliest one. At dawn he stood, potential, opulent With virile manhood and emotions keen. And wonderful with God's creative fire. At noon he stands, all love's large fortune spent In petty traffic, unproductive — mean — A pauper, cursed w^ith impotent desire. THE LAND OF THE GONE- AWAY SOULS Oh ! that is a beautiful land I wis. The land of the Gone-Away Souls. Yes, a lovelier region by far than this (Though this is a world most fair.) The goodliest goal of all good goals. Else why do our friends stay there? I walk in a world that is sweet with friends. And earth I have ever held dear; Yes, love with duty and beauty blends To render the earth place bright. But faster and faster, year on year My comrades hurry from sight. They hurry away to the Over-There, And few of them say farewell Yes, they go away with a secret air As if on a secret quest. And they come not back to the earth to tell Why that land seems the best. Messages come from the mystic sphere. But few know the code of that land. Yes, many the message but few who hear. In the din of the world below. Or hearing the message, can understand Those truths which we long to know. But it must be the goal of all good goals. And I think of it more and more. Yes, think of that land of the Gone-Away Souls And its growing hosts of friends Who will hail my bark when it touches snore Where the last brief journey ends. 79 SIRIUS S INCE Sinus crossed tKe Milky Way Full sixty tnousand years nave gone ; Yet hour by hour, and day by day. This tireless star speeds on and on. Methinks he must be moved to mirth By that droll tale of Genesis, Which says creation had its birth For such a puny ^vorld as this. To hear how One w^ho fashioned all Those Solar systems, tier on tierc. Expressed in little Adam s fall The purpose of a million spheres. And, witness of the endless plan. To splendid vv^rath he must be ^vrought By pigmy creeds presumptuous man Sends forth as God s primeval thought. Perchance from half a hundred stars He hears as many curious things ; From Venus, Jupiter, and Mars, And Saturn Avith the beauteous rings. There may be students of the Cause Who send their revelations out. And formulate their codes of laws. With heavens for faith and hells for doubt. On planets old ere form or place Was lent to earth, may dw^ell — w^ho know^s — • A God-like and perfected race That hails great Sinus as he goes. In Zones that circle moon and sun, 'Twixt w^orld and vk'orld, he may see souls Whose span of earthly life is done. Still journeying up to higher goals. And on dead planets grey and cold Grim spectral souls, that harbored hate Life after life, he may behold Descending to a darker fate. And on his grand majestic course He may have caught one glorious sight Of that vast shining central Source From which proceeds all Life, all Light. 80 Since Sirius crossed tKe Milky Way rull sixty thousand years liave gone No mortal man may bid liim stay. No mortal man may speed Kim on. No mortal mind may comprehend What is beyond, what was before; To God be glory without end. Let man be humble and adore. MY FAITH My faith is rooted in no written creed ; And there are those, who call me heretic; Yet year on year, though I be well, or sick. Or opulent, or in the slough of need. If, light of foot, fair Life trips by me pleasuring. Or, by the rule of pain, old Time stands measuring The dull drab moments — still ascends my cry God reigns on high ; He doeth all things well." Not much I prize, or one, or any brand Of theologic lore ; nor think too well Of generally accepted heaven and hell. But faith and knowledge build at Love's command A beauteous heaven ; a heaven of thought all clarified Of hate, and fear, and doubt; a heaven of rarified And perfect trust; and from that heaven I cry God reigns on high. Whatever is, is best." My faith refuses to accept the "fall," It sees man ever as a child of God Growing in wisdom as new realms are trod Until the Christ in him is One with All. From this full consciousness my faith is borrowing Light to illuminate Life's darkest sorrowing. Whatever woes assail me still I cry God reigns on high ; He doeth all things well " \l/L •^L**^-^"'^^ P^'^y^'" t^e language of the heart Which gives us converse with the hosts unseen ; And those who linger in the vales between The Here and Yonder in these prayers take part. My dead come near, and say, "Death means not perishing ; Cherish us in your thoughts; for by that cherishing bhall severed links be welded bye and bye." God reigns on high; Whatever is, is best. 81 toMoihers In tKe old times oi peace we went our ways, TKrougK proper days Of little joys and tasks. Lonely at times, WKen irom tne steeple sounded Nvedding-cKimes, Telling to all tne \vorld some maid was wife; But taking patiently our part in life As it was portioned us by ChurcK and State, Believing it our fate. Our thoughts all cnaste Held yet a secret wisn to love and mate Ere youtK and virtue snould go quite to waste. But men we criticized for lack of strength. And kept them at arm's length. Then the war came The world was all aflame! The men we had thought dull and void of power Were heroes in an hour. He who had seemed a slave to petty greed Showed masterful in that great time of need. He who had plotted for his neighbor s pelf. Now for his fellows offered up himself. And we were only women, forced by >var To sacrifice the things worth living for. Something within us broke; Something within us woke; The wild cave-woman spoke. When We heard the sound of drumming, As our soldiers went to camp. Heard them tramp, tramp, tramp; As We watched to see them coming, A nd they looked at us and smiled ( Yes, looked back ot us and smiled) As they filed along by hillock ond by holloW, Then our hearts were so beguiled That, for many and many a day, IVe dreamed we heard them say, "Oh, follow, follow, follow!" And the distant, rolling drum Called us, "Come, come, come!" Till our virtue seemed a thing to give away. HTHERE is something in the sound of drum and fife ■* That wakes all the savage instincts into life. War had swept ten thousand years away from earth. We were primal once again. 82 These were males, not modern men: We were females meant to bring their sons to birth. And we could not wait for any formal rite. We could hear them calling to us. 'Come to-night ; For to-morrow, at the dawn. We move on ! And the drum Bellowed. Come, come, come! And the fife Whistled. "Life, life, life!" So they moved on and fought and bled and died ; Honored and mourned, they are the nation s pride. We fought our battles, too; but with the tide Of our red blood we gave the world new lives. Because we were not wives We are dishonored. Is it noble, then. To break God s laws only by killing men To save one s country from destruction.' w< Took no man s life but gave our chastity. And sinned the ancient sin To plant young trees and fill felled forests in. O clergy of the land, Bible in hand. All reverently you stand. On holy thoughts intent. While barren wives receive the sacrament! Had you the open vision yovi could see Phantoms of infants murdered in the womb Who never knew^ a cradle or a tomb Hovering about these wives accusingly. Bestow the sacrament! Their sins are not well knovv-n — Ours to the four winds of the earth are blown. 83 THE TRIP TO MARS O rl ! by and by we snail near the cry, Tnis IS the way to Mars. Come take a trip, on tne morning Snip ; It sails by tne Isle oi Stars. A gflorious view^ of planets ne^v We promise by ni^Kt and day. Past dying suns our good snip runs. And w^e pause at tbe Milky Way. I am almost sure we w^ill take tnat tour Together, my dear, my dear. For, ever nave we, by land and sea, (jone journeying far and near. Out over the deep — o er mountain steep. We nave traveled mile on mile ; And to sail aw^ay to the Martian Bay, On ! tnat w^ere a trip w^ortn while. Our snip will race tnrougn seas of space Up into tne Realms of Lignt, Till the w^nirling ball of the earth grow^s small. And is utterly lost to sight. Through the nebulous spaw^n w^here planets are born We shall pass w^ith sails ^vell furled. And with eager eyes w^e will scan the skies. For the sights of a new^-made ^vorld. From the derelict barque of a sun gone dark. Adrift on our fair ship s path, A beacon star shall guide us afar. And far from the comet s w^rath. Oh! many a start of pulse and heart We have felt at the sights of land. But \vhat w^ould we do if the dream came true. And ^ve sighted the Martian strand? So, if some day you come and say. "They are sailing to Mars, I hear. I ^vant you to know, I am ready to go, — All ready, my dear, my dear. 84 EARTH BOUND NEW Paradise and groom and tride ; The World was all tKeir own; Her heart swelled full of love and pride ; Yet were they quite alone? Now now IS it, oh how is it, and why is it," (in fear All silent to herself she spake) "that something strange seems here? Along the garden paths they walked; 1 he moon was at its height. And lover-wise they strolled and talked; But something was not right. And Who IS that, now who is that, oh who is that" quoth she (All silent to her heart she spake), "that seems to folic .7'* He drew her closer to his side ; She felt his lingering kiss ; And yet a shadow seemed to glide Between her heart and his. And What is that, now what is that, oh what is that," she said (All silent to herself she spake), "that minds me of the dead?" They wandered back ty beds oi bloom ; They climbed a winding stair; They crossed the threshold of their room ; But Something waited there. Now who is this, and what is this, and where is this," she cried (All silent was the cry she made), "that comes to haunt and hide? Wide-eyed she lay, the while he slept; She could not name her fear. But Something from her bedside crept Just as the daw^n drew^ near. (She did not know, she could not know, how could she know^ •who came To haunt the home of one whose hand, had dug her grave of shame.) 85 IV /T OTHER, sit do\vn. for I have much to say ■^' -*■ Anent this wide-spread, ever-growing theme Of Woman and her virtues and her rights. I left you for the large, loud world of men. When I had lived one little score of years. I judged all w^omen by you, and my heart Was filled w^ith high esteem and reverence For your angelic sex; and for the w^ives. The sisters, daughters, mothers of my friends I held but holy thoughts. To fallen stars (Of w^hom you told me in our last sw^eet talk. Warning me of the dangers in my path) 1 gave Avide pity as you bade me to. Saying their sins harked back to my base sex. Now, listen, mother mine: Ten years have passed Since that clean-minded and pure-bodied youth. Thinking to write his name upon the stars. Went from your presence. He returns to you Fallen from his high altitude of thought. Hiding deep scars of sins upon his soul. His fair illusions shattered and destroyed. And would you know the story of nis fall? 86 ihe boyisn admiration of Kis glance Was white as April sunlight when it falls Upon a Dlooming tree, until she leaned So close her rounded body sent quick thrills Along his nerves. He thought it accident And moved a little; soon she leaned again. The hali-hid beauties of her heaving breast Rising and lalling under scented lace ; The teasing tendrils oi her fragrant hair. With intermittent touches on his cheek. Changed the boy s interest to the man s desire. She saw that first young madness in his eyes. Smiled, and fanned the flame. That was his fall; And as some mangled fly may crawl away And leave his wings behind him xn the web. So were his wings of faith in womanhood Left in the meshes of her sensuous net. The youth, forced into sudden manhood, went Seeking the lost ideal of his dreams. He met, in churches and in draw^ing-rooms. Women who wore the mask of innocence And basked in public favor, yet ^vho seemed To rind their pleasure playing with men s hearts, As children play with loaded guns. He heard (Until the tale fell dull upon his ears) The unsolicited complauits of wives And mothers all unsatisfied with life While crow^ned with every blessing earth can give, Longing for God knows what to bring content; And openly or \vith appealing look Asking for sympathy. (The first blind step That leads from wifely honor down to shame Is ofttimes hid with flowers of sympathy.) He saw proud w^omen who \vould flush and pale With sense of outraged modesty if one Spoke of the ancient sin before them, bare To all men s sight, or nimsily conceal By veils that bid adventurous eyes proceed. Charms meant alone for lover and for child. He saw chaste virgins tempt and tantalize. Lure and deny, invite — and then refuse. And drive men forth, half crazed, to %vantons arms Mother, you taught me there were but two kinds Of women in the w^orld — the good and bad. But you have been too sheltered in the safe. Old-fashioned sweetness of your quiet life To know how women of these modern days Make license of their new-found liberty. Why] 1 have been more tempted and more shocked By belles and beauties in the social whirl. By trusted w^ives and mothers in their homes. Than by the women of the underworld Who sell their favors. Do you think me mad?- No, mother; I am sane, but very sad. I miss my boyhood s faith in Woman s w^orth — Torn from my heart by "good folks" of the earth. 87 THE WELL-BORN SO many, many people — people in tKe world ; So few great souls, love ordered, well begun. In answer to tKe fertile mother need. So few^ w^no seem TKe image of tKe Maker's mortal dream; So many born of mere propinquity — Of lustful Kabit, or of accident. TKeir motKers felt No migKty all-compelling wisK to see TKeir bosoms garden-places Abloom witK flower faces ; No tidal wave swept o er tKem w^itK its flood ; No tKrill of flesK or Keart ; no leap of blood ; No glowing fire, flaming to wKite desire For mating and for motKerhood ; Yet tKey bore children. God, Kow^ mankind misuses tKy command. To populate tKe eartK. How low is brougKt KigK birtK. How low tKe w^oman ; w^Ken, inert as spawn Left on tKe sands to fertilise, SKe is tKe means tKrougK wKicK tKe race goes on. Not so tKe first intent. BirtK, as tKe Supreme Mind conceived it, meant TKe clear, imperious call of mate to mate And tKe clear answer. Only tKus and tKen Are fine, well-ordered and potential lives BrougKt into being. Not by CKurcK or State Can birtK be made legitimate. Unless Love m its fulness bless Creation so ordains its lofty law^s TKat man, wKile greater in all otKer tKmgs Is lesser, in tKe generative cause. TKe fatKer may be merely man, tKe male ; Yet more tKan female must tKe motKer be. TKe w^oman avKo w^ould fasKion Souls, for tKe use of eartK and angels meet. Must entertain a KigK and Koly passion. Not rank, or w^ealtK, or influence of kings Can give a soul its dower Of majesty and power. Unless tKe motKer brings Great love to tKat great Kour. 68 KIM KIM. in tnat tender canine Keart of yours What faithfulness endures. What sterling qualities of loyal friend And fearless comrade blend. Making you strong to rescue and defend. In you we find The quick perception of a thinking mind. Keen understanding, cheerfulness and tact. And love so vast it permeates each act. Often we cannot think of you as dumb. But feel that speech must come From that too silent lip. Adding the last touch to companionship. Lifting your shaggy locks and looking down Into your eyes of brow^n, bomethmg I see that makes me more and more Doubt that religious lore. That orthodox, unyielding lore, which gives No spark of soul to anything that lives Save biped man. Why Kim in your dear eyes There lies The chief foundation of man's Paradise — - Unquestioning, undoubting love, and faith That would walk bravely through the gates of death. If so your Master or your Mistress led. When all is said It IS of love and faith we build our Heaven — Dear Kim I cannot question that you will be given Your green celestial lawn, your astral sea. And life w^ith him and me Yea, life w^ith him and me. Since we to you are what God is to us. And oh! to love God thus! With such supreme devotion to obey And ask no reason why; by night or day To have no w^ill or choice. But just to follow the Beloved Voice. To trust implicitly — to feel no fear Or discontent or doubt since He is near. Let me look deeper, Kim, in your dear heart; Impart To me that fulness of unquestioning love That I may give my God thereof. 89 THE PLOW OF GOD IF you listen you will Kear, from east to w^est. Growing sounds of discontent and deep unrest. It is just tKe progress-driven Plow of God, Tearing up tne w^ell-w^orn, custom-Dounded sod, SKaping out eacK old tradition-trodden track Into furrows — fertile furrows, ncn and black. OK, wKat harvests tKey will yield WKen tKey widen to a field ! TKey will widen, tKey will broaden, day by day. As tKe progress-driven plow keeps on its way. It will riddle all tKe ancient roads tKat lead Into places of selfisKness and greed. It w^ill tear aw^ay tKe almsKouse and tKe slum, TKat tKe little Komes and garden-plots may come. Yes, tKe gardens green and sweet SKall replace tKe stony street. Let tKe w^ise men Kear tKe menace tKat is blent In tKis ever-grow^ing sound of discontent. Let Kim Kear tKe rising clamor of tKe race TKat tKe few sKall yield tKe many larger space ; For tKe crucial Kour is coming w^Ken tKe soil Must be given to, or taken back, by Toil. OK, tKat migKty Plow of God — Hear it breaking tKrougK tKe sod ! THE BED A KarsK and Komely monosyllable. Abrupt and musicless, and at its best An inartistic object to tKe eye. Yet in tKis brief and troubled life of man How full of majesty tKe part it plays! It is tKe cradle wKicK receives tKe soul. Naked and wailing, from tKe Maker's Kand. It IS tKe tKrone of Love s enligKtenment ; And wKen deatK offers back to God again TKe borrowed spirit, tKis tKe Koly sKrine From wKicK tKe Kills delectable are seen. TKrougK all tKe anxious journey to tKat goal It is man's friend, pKysician, comforter. WKen labor wearies, and wKen pleasure palls. And tKe tired Keart lets faitK slip from its grasp, Tis Kere new^ courage and new strengtK are found, WKile doubt and darkness cKange to Kope and ligKt. It is tKe common ground between two spKeres WKere men and angels meet and converse Kold. It IS tKe confidant of Kidden woe Masked from tKe world beneatK a smiling brow. Into its silent breast young w^akeful joy WKispers its secret tKrougK tKe starlit Kours, And, like a wKite-robed priestess, oft it bears TKe wild confession of a crime-stained soul TKat looks unflincKing in tKe eyes of men. A common w^ord, a tKing unbeautiful. Yet in tKis brief, eventful life of man How large and varied is tKe part it plays! 90 WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? WHAT have you done, and wKat are you doing witK life, O Man? O Average Man of tKe world — Average Man of tKe Christian world we call civilized? What Have you done to pay for tKe labor pains of tKe motKer w^Ko bore you? On eartK you occupy space ; you consume oxygen from tKe air; And wKat do you give in return for tKese tKings? WKo IS better tKat you live, and strive, and toil? Or tKat you live tKrougK tKe toiling and striving of otK- ers? As you pass down tKe street does any one look on you and say, TKere goes a good son, a true Kusband, a wise fatKer, a fine citizen? A man wKose strong Kand is ready to Kelp a neigKbor, A man to trust? And wKat do women say of you? Unto tKeir own souls v^'Kat do w^omen say? Do tKey say: "He Kelped to make tKe road easier for tired feet? To broaden tKe narrow Korizon for acKing eyes? He Kelped us to KigKer ideals of w^omanKood?" Look into your own Keart and answer, O Average Man of tKe world. Of tKe CKristian ^vorld we call civilized. II WKat do men tKink of you, wKat do tKey tKink and say of you, O Average Woman of tKe w^orld? Do tKey say : TKere is a woman witK a great Keart, Loyal to Ker sex, and above envy and evil speaking; TKere is a daugKter, wife, motKer, witK a purpose in life; SKe can be trusted to mould tKe minds of little cKildren ; SKe knows Kow to be good witKout being dull ; How to be glad and to make otKers glad witKout de- scending to folly ; SKe IS one wKo illuminates tKe patK wKerein sKe walks ; One wKo awakens tKe best in every Kuman being sKe meets ? Look into your Keart, O Woman ! and answer tKis WKat are you doing witK tKe beautiful years? Is your today a better tKing tKan was your yesterday? Have you grown in knowledge, grace, and usefulness? Or are you ravelling out tKe wonderful fabric knit by Time, And tKrow^ing aw^ay tKe tKreads? Make answer, O Woman! Average Woman of tKe Christian world. 91 THE GHOSTS :^ ■;^ iv^r"""^ *" I 'HERE was no winci, and yet tKe air Seemed suddenly astir: TKere were no forms, and yet all space Seemed thronged ■witK growing hosts. Tliey came Irom WKere and from Nowhere, Like phantoms as they were. They came from many a land and place — The ghosts, the ghosts, the ghosts. And some were white and some were gray And some were red as blood — Those ghosts of men who met their death Upon the field of war. Against the skies of fading day. Like tanks of clouds they stood; And each wraith asked another wraith. *' What were we fighting for? One said. * I was my mother s all; And she was old and blind. Another, " Back on earth, my wife And week-old baby lie. Another. "At the bugle's call, I left my bride behind; Love made so beautiful my life, 1 could not bear to die. In voices like the winds that moan Amorrg pine tree* at night. They whispered long, the newly dead. While listening stars came out. '* We wonder if the cause is known. And if the war was right. That killed us in our prime, ' they said. And what it was about. They came in throngs that filled all space- Those whispering phantom hosts. They came from many a land and place — The ghosts, the ghosts, the ghosts. '';^^lS^.yi' THE UNWED MOTHER TO THE WIFE I HAD been almost Kappy for an hour. Lost to tKe world that knew me in tKe park Among strange faces ; wKile my little girl Leaped w^itK tKe squirrels, cnirruped w^ith the birds. And witb the sunligKt glowed. She was so dear. So beautiful, so sweet ; and for the time The rose of love, shorn of its thorn of shame. Bloomed in my heart. Then suddenly you passed. I sat alone upon the public bench ; You, w^ith your law^ful husband, rode in state : And when your eyes fell on me and my child. They were not eyes, but daggers, poison tipped. God ! how^ good w^omen slaughter with a look ! And, like cold steel, your glance cut through my heart Struck every petal from the rose of love And left the ragged stalk alive with thorns. My little one came running to my side And called me Mother. It was like a blow Between the eyes ; and made me sick w^ith pain. And then it seemed as if each bird and breeze Took up the word, and changed its syllables From Mother into Magdalene ; and cried My shame to all the w^orld. It w^as your eyes Which did all this. But listen now to me (Not you alone, but all the barren wives Who, like you, flaunt their virtue in the face Of fallen women) : I Ao chance to know The crimes you think are hidden from all men — (Save one w^ho took your gold and sold his skill And jeopardized his name for your base ends.) il I know how you have sunk your soui in sense Like any wanton ; and refused to bear The harvest of your pleasure-planted seed ; I know^ how you have crushed the tender bud Which held a soul ; how you have blighted it ; And made the holy miracle of birth A w^icked travesty of God s design. Yea, many buds, which might be blossoms now And beautify your selfish, and life. Have been destroyed, because you chose to keep The aimless freedom and the purposeless Self-seeking liberty of childless wives. I was an untaught girl. By nature led. By love and passion blinded, I became An unwed mother. You, an honored wife. Refuse the crow^n of motherhood, defy The laws of nature, and fling baby souls 94 Back in tKe face of God. And yet you dare Call me a sinner, and yourself a saint; And all the \vorld smiles on you, and its doors Swing >vide at your approach. I stand outside. Surely there must be higher courts than earth. Where you and I will some day meet and be Weighed by a larger justice. HERESY Nothing within me responds to the story of Adam and Eve ; And Genesis seems like a tale not meant for the w^orld to believe : Yet w^hen I wake in the dawn, if the skies are gray or gold. The love, the love in the heart of me, for God, can never be told. Jesus to me is a man who lived the life divine ; And I think of his birth as a human birth, just like yours and mine ! But the love down deep in my heart, that is sweeter than any other. Is the great uplifting, tender love I give to Christ, my brother. I know at times I have erred, as all who are mortal will ; By doing the wrong thing well, or doing the right thing ill: But nobody else can atone for the paths my feet have trod; And I know, I know^ by the love in my heart, I can make it right with God. The world has a thousand creeds, and never a one have I ; Nor church of my own, though a million spires are point- ing the way on high. But 1 float on the bosom of faith that bears me along like a river ; And the lamp of my soul is alight >vith love, for life, and the world, and the Giver. I know^ how brief is my span, and I know how^ certain is death ; And 1 send out a prayer of love and trust with the breathing of every breath ; And heretic though I am outside of the pale of creeds, I have love in my heart for God and man — and I think it is all one needs. 95 ^eace MUSING upon tKe tragedies of eartn. Of eacK new horror whicK each Kour ^fives birth Of sins that scar and cruelties that bhght Life's little season, meant for man s delight, Methought those monstrous and repellent crimes Which hate engenders m war-heated times. To God's great heart bring not so much despair As other sins which flourish everywhere And in all times — bold sins, bare-faced and proua. Unchecked by college, and by Church allowed. Lifting their lusty heads like ugly weeds Above wise precepts and religious creeds. And growing rank in prosperous days of peace Think you the evils of this world would cease With war's cessation? If God s eyes know tears, Methinks he weeps more for the wasted years And the lost meaning of this earthly life — This big, brief life — than over bloody strife. Yea; there are mean, lean sins God must abhor More than the fatted, blood-drunk monster. War Looking from his place, looking from his high place among the stars. God saw a peaceful land — A land of fertile fields and golden harvests — and great cities whose innumerable spires pierced the vault of heaven, like bay.onets of an invading army. And God said, speaking unto himself aloud. God said: Peace and power and plenty have I given unto this land ; and those tall steeples are monuments to me. Now let my people reveal themselves, that I may see their works, done in my name in a fertile land of peace. I will withdraw mine eyes from other worlds that I may be- hold them, that I may behold these people to whom I sent Christ — ^they -whose innumerable spires pierce my blue vault like bayonets. God saw the restless, idle rich in club and cabaret. Meat-gorged, -wine-filled, they played and preened and danced till dawn o day ; They played at sports; they played at love; they played at being gay. ' They w^ere but empty, silk-clad shells; their souls had leaked away. He saw the sweat-shop and the mill where little children toiled. The sunless rooms where mothers slaved and unborn souls were spoiled ; While those whose greedy, selfish lives had thrust the toilers there. He saw whirled down broad avenues, clothed all witK.raiment fair. 96 *»- He saw m Komes made beautiful with all that ^old can givs Unhappy souls at odds witK life, not knowing Kow to live, ne saw lair, pampered women turn from motherhood's sweet joy. Obsessed with methods to prevent or mania to destroy. rte saw men sell the.r souls to vice and avarice and greed; ne heard race quarreling with race and creed decrying creed. And shamefu wealth and waste he saw, and shameful want and need. He saw bold little children come from church and school- room, bhnd To suffering of lesser things, unfeeling and unkind ; ne heard theni taunt the poor, and tease their furred and leathered kin; And no voice spake from home or church, to tell them this was sin. He heard the cry of wounded things, the wasteful gun's ff ., J| report ; ^ He saw the morbid craze to kill, which Christian men called sport. And then God hid his grieving face behind a wall of cloud. Un earth they said, "A thunder-storm"- but God had wept aloud. INTERLUDE THE days grow shorter, tKe nigKts grow longer , TKe headstones thicken along the way; And life grows sadder but love grows stronger For those who walk with us, day by day. The tear comes quicker, the laugh comes slower. The courage is lesser to do and dare : And the tide of joy in the heart runs lower And seldom covers the reefs of care. But all true things in the world seem truer. And the better things of the earth seem best; And friends are dearer as friends are fewer. And love is all as our sun dips west. Then let us clasp hands as we walk together. And let us speak softly, in love's sweet tone; For no man knows, on the morrow, whether We two pass by, or but one alone. A SONG OF FAITH My glass of life with its brew of Being, I lift, with a toast, to the Universe. Though black guns bellow and mad men curse And a sick w^orld hurries from bad to worse I trust in the might of the One All Seeing — The One All Knowing, to set things right. Though hate in the heart of the race may thunder. In rifle and cannon and bursting shell. And the sea and the air their tales may tell. Of the minds of mortals that seethe with hell, — Yet in God's vast plan there can be no blunder — - He is blazing the trail for the Super-man. The creeds of ages may totter and tumble. And fall in ruins, but out of the dust. And out of the wreckage of old things, must Rise better religion, and stronger trust. And faith that knows, and knowing is humble. (Humility ever with knowledge goes.) This speck in space on its orbit spinning. Swings safely along without aid from me, A Mind that can order, an Eye that can see. Back of, and over it all must be — And w^ill be — and w^as from the first beginning. Not mine to question or doubt the Cause. 98 But mine to worsKip the MigKty Master And Maker of all tKings ; mine to raise Ever an antnem oi love and praise In tKe li^ht OI tKe sun or in shadow^ed ways, — ■ ^ In tKe world s bright hour, or in w^orld disaster. To see His glory and sing His power. So my glass oi life w^ith its orew^ of Being I lift, w^ith a song of the One All Seeing — Of the One All Know^ing ; though earth seems hurled Out into chaos, I see it lying In God's great palm — and my faith undying Cries, Lo ! He is moulding a better w^orld. THE SPUR I asked a rock beside the road What joy existence lent. It answ^ered. For a million years My heart has been content. I asked the truifle-seeking sw^ine, as rooting by he w^ent. What is the keynote of your life?" He grunted out, Ljontent. I asked a slave, w^ho toiled and sang, just w^hat his singing meant. He plodded on his changeless way, and said, 1 am content. I asked a plutocrat of greed, on w^hat his thoughts w^ere bent. He chinked the silver in his purse, and said I am content. I asked the mighty forest tree from w^hence its force w^as sent. Its thousand branches spoke as one, and said, "From discontent. I asked the message speeding on, by what great law^ ^vas rent God s secret from the w^aves of space. It said. From discontent. I asked the marble, w^here the w^orks of God and man were blent. What brought the statue from the block. It answered. Discontent. I asked an Angel, looking down on earth w^ith gaze intent, How^ man should rise to larger growth. Quoth he. Through discontent. 99 MEDITATIONS His. I WAS so proud of you last nignt, dear ^irl. While man witn man was striving for your smile. You never lost your neaa, nor once aroppea down From your nign place As queen m that gay w^nirl. (It takes more poise to w^ear a little crow^n WitK modesty and grace Tkan to adorn tKe lordlier thrones of eartn.) You seem so free from artifice and wile ; And in your eyes I read Encouragement to my unspoken tnougnt. My heart is eloquent with w^ords to plead Its cause of passion ; but my questioning mind, Know^mg how^ love is blind. Dwells on the pros and cons, and God know^s what. My heart cries w^ith each beat. She IS so beautiful, so pure, so sweet. So more than dear. And then I hear The voice of Reason, asking: Would she meet Life s common duties ^vlth good common sense? Could she bear quiet evenings at your hearth And not be sighing for gay scenes of mirth? If, some great day, love s mighty recompense For chastity surrendered came to her. If she felt stir Beneath her heart a little pulse of life. Would she rejoice with holy pride and w^onder And rind new glory in the name of wife? Or w^ould she plot w^ith hell, and seek to plunder Love s sanctuary, and cast aw^ay its treasure. That she might keep her freedom and her pleasure; Could she be loyal mate and mother dutiful? Or IS she only some bright hothouse bloom. Seedless and beautiful. Meant just for decoration, and for show^? Alone here in my room, I hear this voice of Reason. My poor heart Has ever but one answer to impart, I love her so. Hers. After the ball last night, when I came home I stood before my mirror, and took note Of all that men call beautiful. Delight, Keen, sweet delight, possessed me, w^hen I saw 100 My own reflection smiling on me there. Because your eyes, througn all the swirling hours. And in your slow good-night, had made a fact Of what before I fancied might he so; Yet know^ing ho\v men lie by look and act, I still had doubted But I doubt no more, 1 know you love me, love me. And I feel Your satisfaction in my comeliness. Beauty and youth, good health and >villing mind, A spotless reputation, and a heart Longing for mating and for motherhood. And lips unsullied by another s kiss — These are the riches I can bring to you. But as I sit here, thinking of it all In the clear light of morning, sudden fear Has seized upon me. What has been your past; From out the jungle of old reckless years. May serpents craw^l across our path some day And pierce us w^ith their fangs? Oh, I am not A prude or bigot; but I have not lived A score and three full years in ignorance Of human nature. Much I can condone ; For w^ell I know^ our kinship to the earth And all created things. Why, even I Have felt the burden of virginity. When flow^ers and birds and golden butterflies In early spring w^ere mating; and I know^ How^ loud that call of sex must sound to man Above the feeble protest of the w^orld. But I can hear from depths within my soul The voices of my unborn children cry For rightful heritage. (May God attune The souls of men, that they may hear and heed That plaintive voice above the call of sex ; And may the world's weak protest swell into A thunderous diapason — a demand For cleaner fatherhood ) Oh, love, come near; Look in my eyes, and say I need not fear. TRUE CHARITY I gave a beggar from my little store Of well earned gold. He spent the shining ore And came again, and yet again, still cold And hungry as before. I have a thought, and through that thought of mine He found himself, the man, supreme, divine! Fed, clothed, and crowned with blessings manifold And now he begs no more 101 A GOOD SPOR^T I WAS a little lad, and tne older boys called to me from tne pier. Tney called to me: "Be a sport; be a sport! Leap in and swim ! I leaped in and s\vam, tnougb I had never been taugnt a stroke. Then I \vas made a hero, and they all shouted : 'Well done ! Well done. Brave boy; you are a sport, a good sport'" And I was very glad. But now I wish I had learned to sw^im the right way. Or had never learned at all. Now I regret that day. For it led me to my fall. I was a youth, and I heard the older men talking of the road to wealth. They talked of bulls and bears, of buying on margins. And they said: Be a sport, my boy; plunge in and win, or lose it all ! It IS the only w^ay to fortune." bo 1 plunged in and won ; and the older men patted me on the ba^k. And they said. You are a sport, my boy, a good sport! And I was very glad 102 But now I wisK I Kad lost all I ventured on tKat day — Yes, ■wxsk 1 kad lost it all: For it was tke wrong way. And pusned me to my fall. I was a young man, and tke gay world called me to come. Gay women and gay men called to me, crying: "Be a sport: be a good sport ! Fill our glasses and let us fill yours. We are young but once; let us dance and smg. And drive tke dull kours of nigkt until tkey stand at bay Against tke skining bayonets of day." So I filled my glass, and I filled tkeir glasses over and over again. An4 I sang and danced and drank, and drank and danced and sang. And I keard tkem cry, "He is a sport, a good sport!" As tkey keld tkeir glasses out to be filled again. And I was very glad. Oh, the madness of youth and song and dance and wine, Of tooman's eyes and lips, tchen the night dies in the arms of darvnl And now I wisk I kad not gone tkat way. Now I wisk 1 kad not keard tkem say. 'He IS a sport, a good sport!" For I am old ^vko skould be young. Tke splendid vigor of my youtk I flung Under tke feet of a mad, untkinking tkrong. My strengtk went out witk wine and dance and song: Unto tke winds of eartk I tossed like ckaff, Witk idle jest and laugk, Tke pride of splendid mankood, all its wealtk Of unused po^ve^ and kealtk; Its dream of looking in some pure girls eyes And finding tkere its eartkly paradise; Its kope of virile ckildren free from bligkt: Its tkougkts of climbing to some noble keigkt Of great ackievement — all tkese gifts divine I cast a^vay for song and dance and wine. Ok, I kave been a sport, a good sport; But I am very sad. 103 •A BACHELOR TO A MARRIED FLIRT ALL tKat a man can say of ^voman s cnarms. Mine eyes Have spoken and my lips nave told To you a thousand times. Your perfect arms, (A replica from tliat lost Melos mould) TKe fair, firm crescents of your bosom (snown Witk full intent to make tKeir splendors know^n.) ith tKeir guile). Your eyes (that mask with innocence The (artful) artlessness of all your ways. Your kiss-provoking mouth, its lure, its smile. All these have had my fond and frequent praise. And something more than praise to you I gave — - Something which made you know^ me as your slave. Yet slaves at times grow^ mutinous, and rebel. Here in this morning hour from you apart The mood is on me to be frank and tell The thoughts long hidden deep down in my heart: These thoughts are bitter thorny plants, that grew Below the flowers of praise I plucked for you. Those flowery praises, led you to suppose You were my benefactor. Well, in truth When lovely woman on dull man bestows Sw^eet favors of her beauty and her youth. He IS her debtor. I am yours ; and yet You robbed me while you placed me thus in debt. I owe you for keen moments w^hen you stirred My senses with your beauty ; when your eyes, (Your wanton eyes) belied the prudent word Your curled lips uttered. You are worldly wise And while you like to set men's hearts on flame You take no risks in that old passion game. The carnal, common self of dual me. Found pleasure in this danger play of yours. (An egotist man always thinks to be The victor if his patience but endures. And holds in leash the bounds of fierce desire. Until the silly woman's heart takes fire.) But now it is the Higher Self who speaks : The Me of me — the inner man — the real — Who ever dreams his dream and ever seeks To bring to earth his beautiful ideal. That life-long dream with all its promised joy Your soft bedevilments have helped destroy. 104 I spoke a little, and he listened mucn ; Tnere was attention in his eyes, and such A note of comradesnip in nis low tone, I lelt no more alone. Tnere w^as a kindly interest in his air ; He spoke about the w^ay I dressed my hair. And praised the go\vn I ^vore. It seemed a thousand, thousand years and more Since 1 had been so noticed. Had mine ear Been used to compliments year after year. If I had heard you speak As tnis man spoke, I had not been so w^eak. Tne innocent beginning Of all my sinning Was just tne w^oman s craving to be brought Into the inner shrine of some man s thought. You held me there, as sweetheart and as bride ; And then as vi^ife, you left me far outside. So far, so far, you could not hear me call ; You might, you should, have saved me from my fall. I w^as not bad, just lonely, that w^as all. A man should offer something to replace The sweet adventure of the lover s chase Which ends \vith marriage. Love s neglected la\vs Pave pathways for the Statutory Cause. THE MEN-MADE GODS Said the Kaiser s god to the god of the Czar: Hark, hark, how^ my people pray. Their faith, methinks, is greater by far Than all the faiths of the others are ; They know^ I w^ill help them slay. Said the god of the Czar : My people call In a medley of tongues ; they know^ I w^iU lend my strength to them one and all. Wherever they fight their foes shall fall Like grass w^here the mow^ers go. Then the god of the Gauls spoke out of a cloud To the god of the king nearby ; Our people pray, tho they pray not loud ; They ask for courage to slaughter a crowd. And to laugh, tho themselves may die. And far out into the heart of space Where a lonely pathw^ay crept Up over the stars, to a secret place. Where no light shone but the light of His face, Christ covered his eyes and wept. 109 THE BIRTH OF JEALOUSY WITH brooding mien and sultry eyes. Outside the gates of Paradise Eve sat, and fed tKe faggot flame TKat lit tKe path whence Adam came. (Strange are the workings of a w^oman s mind.) His giant shade preceded him. Along the pathw^ay green, and dim ; She heard his sw^ift approaching tread. But still she sat w^ith drooping head. (Dark are the jungles of unhappy thought.) He kissed her mouth, and gazed within Her troubled eyes ; for since their sin. His love had grow^n a thousand fold. But Eve drew^ back; her face w^as cold. (Oh, who can read the cipher of a soul!) Now^ art thou mourning still, sw^eet w^ife. Spake Adam tenderly, the life Of our lost Eden? Why, in thee All Paradise remains for me. (Deep, deep the currents in a strong man s heart.) Thus Eve : "Nay, not lost Eden s bliss I mourn • for heavier w^oe than this Wears on me w^ith one thought accursed. In Adam s life I am not nrst. (O, woman's mind ! what hells are fashioned there.) The serpent w^hispered Lilith s name : ( Tw^as thus he drove me to my shame) Pluck yonder fruit, he said, and know^, How^ Adam loved her, long ago. (Fools, fools, who w^ander searching after pain.) I ate, and like an ancient scroll, I saw^ that other life unroll ; I saw thee, Adam, far from here With Lilith on a ^vondrous sphere. (Bold, bold, the daring of a jealous heart.) Nay, tell me not I dreamed it all ; Last night m sleep thou didst let fall Her name in tenderness ; I bow^ed My stricken head and cried aloud. (Vast, vast the torment of a self-made woe.) And it was then, and not before. That Eden shut and barred its door. Alone m God s great world I seemed. Whilst thou of thy lost Lilith dreamed. (Oh, who can measure such wide loneliness.) no Now every little breeze tKat sin^s, Si^ns Lilitn, like tKy whisperings. On, w^nere can sorrow^ Kide its face, WKen LilitK, LilitK, fills all space?" (And Adam in the darkness spake no word.) THE GRADUATES I saw^ tnem beautiful, in fair array upon Commence- ment Day ; Lissome and lovely, radiant and sweet As cultured roses, brought to tbeir estate By careful training. Finisbed and complete (As teacbers calculate.) Tbey passed m maiden grace along tbe aisle. Leaving tbe cbaste w^bite sunligbt of a smile Upon tbe gazing tbrong. Musing I tbougbt upon tbeir place as motbers of tb< race. Ob tbere are many actors wbo can play Greatly, great parts ; but rare indeed tbe soul Wbo can be great w^ben cast for some small role ; Yet tbat is w^bat tbe w^orld most needs ; big hearts That w^ill shine forth and glorify poor parts In this strange drama. Life ! Do tbey. Who in full dress-rehearsal pass today Before admiring eyes, hold in their store Those fine high principles w^hich keep old Earth From being only earth ; and make men more Than just mere men? How w^iU tbey prove their w^orth Of years of study? Will they walk abroad Decked w^itb tbe plumage of dead bards of God, The glorious birds? And shall tbe lamb unborn Be si e slain on altars of tb eir vanity] To some frail sister w^ho has missed tbe w^ay Will they give Christ s compassion, or man's scorn? And w^ill clean manhood linked w^itb honest love. The victor prove. When riches, gained by greed dispute tbe claim? Will they guard w^ell a husband s home and name. Or lean down from their altitudes to bear Tbe voice of flattery speak in the ear Those lying platitudes which men repeat To listening Self-Conceit? Musing I thought upon their place as motbers of tbe race. As beautiful they passed in maiden grace. Ill R E- 112 LIES mmJ^^m4^ ^^^g^^=g^^ 4jy:^L5iy^"j^^ FOU have lived long and learned the secret of life, O Seer I Tell me what are the best three things to see^ The best three things for a man to see^ on earth? TKe test tKree things for a man to seek, O Son! are tliese Reverence for tKat great source from whence he came ; Work for tKe world wKerein Ke finds Kimself, And knowledge of tlie realm toward wKicK Ke goes. ^hat are the best three things to lotie on earth, O Seer! — What are the best three things for a man to love? The best three tKmgs for a man io love, O Son ! are tKese : Labor wKicK keeps kis forces all in action; A home wKerem no evil thing may enter. And a loving woman with God in her heart. IVhat are the three great sins to shun, O Seer! — IVhat are the three great sins for a man to shun? The three great sins for a man to shun, O Son ! are these : A thought which soils the heart from whence it goes; An action which can harm a living thing. And undeveloped energies of mind. IVhat are the worst three things to fear, O Seer!— What are the worst three things for a man to fear? The worst three things for a man to fear, O Son! are these: Uoubt and suspicion in a young child's eyes; Accusing shame upon a woman's face. And m himself no consciousness of God. p^".-:^ MY FLOWER ROOM MY FloAver Room is such a little place ; Scarce tw^enty feet by nine ; yet in tnat space I nave met Goa, yea, many a radiant nour Have talked with Him, the All-EmDracing- Cause, About his laAvs. And He has shoAvn me in each vine and flower Such miracles of pow^er That day ty day this Flow^er Room of mine Has come to be a shrine. Fed by the self-same soil and atmosphere Pale, tender shoots appear Rising to greet the light in that sw^eet room. One speeds to crimson bloom. One slowly creeps to unassuming grace ; One climbs, one trails ; One drinks the light and moisture. One exhales. Up through the earth together, stem by stem Tw^o plants push swiftly m a floral race. Till one sends forth a blossom like a gem. And one gives only fragrance. In a seed So small it scarce is felt w^ithin the hand. Lie hidden such delights Of scents and sights. When by the elements of Nature freed. As Paradise must have at its command. From shapeless roots and ugly bulbous things What gorgeous beauty springs ! Such innnite variety appears A hundred artists in a hundred years Could never copy from the floral w^orld The marvels that in leaf and bud lie curled. Nor could the most colossal mind of man Create one little seed oi plant or vine Without assistance from the First Great Plan ; Without the aid divine. Who but a God Could draw from light and moisture, heat and cold. And fashion in earth s mold A multitude of blooms to deck one sod? Who but a God! Not one man kno^vs Just why the bloom and fragrance of the rose. Or how its tints w^ere blent; Or w^hy the 'white Camelia w^ithout scent Up through the same sou grows ; 114 Or how tne daisy and tKe violet Ana olaaes of grass nrst on w^ild meadows met; Not one, not one man know^s. TKe wisest tut SUPPOSE. Tnis Flow^er Room or mine rias come to be a snrine ; And I go hence Each day with larger faith and reverence. WAR SONNETS War IS destruction, w^asteiul, brutal, yet The energies of men are brought to play. And hidden valor by occasion met Leaps to the light, as precious jew^els may When earthquakes rend the rock. The stress and strain Of w^ar stir men to do their w^orst and best. Heroes are forged on anvils hot with pain And splendid courage comes but w^ith the test. Some natures ripen and some virtues bloom Only in blood-red soil ; some souls prove great Only in moments dark w^ith death or doom. This is the sad historic jest >vhich fate Flings to the w^orld, recurring time on time. Many must fall that one may seem sublime. II Above the chaos oi impending ills. Through all the clamor of insistent strife, Now^ w^hile the noise of w^arring nations fills Each throbbing hour >vith menaces to life, I hear the Voice of Progress ! Strange indeed The shadow^ed pathw^ays that lead up to light. But as a runner sometimes w^iU recede That he may so accumulate his might. Then with a will that needs must be obeyed Rushes resistless to the goal w^ith ease. So the w^hole w^orld seems now to retrograde. Slips back to Avar, that it may speed to peace. And m that backw^ard step it gathers force For the triumphant finish of its course. P" 115 e FROM tKe Queen Bee motKer, tKe motKer Beast, and tke motker Fowl in the fen, A call went up to tke human world, to Woman, the mother oi men. The call said. "Come ; iot we, the dumb, are given speech for a day. And the things we have thought for a thousand years we are going, at last, to say. Much they marveled, these women of earth, at the strange and curious call. And some of them laughed and some of them sneered. but they answered it one and all. For they wanted .to hear what never before was heard since the world began The spoken word of Beast and Bird, and the message it held for Man. "A plea for shelter." the women said, "or food in the wintry w^eathers. Or a foolish request that we be dressed without their furs or feathers. We will do what we can for the poor dumb things,, but they must be sensible.' Then The meeting was called, and a she bear stood and voiced the thought of the fen. •«;,«j^ 'k: \ V I'W^ ,-M ^ -Xy Now this IS tne message Ave give to you" (it was thus the she bear spake) "You. the creatures of homes and shrines, and we of the wold and hrake. We have no churches; we have no schools, and our minds you question and doubt. But we follow the laws which some Great Cause, alike for us all, laid out. "We eat and we drink to live; we shun the things that poison and kill; And we settle the problems of sex and birth by the law of the female will. For never was one of us known by A male, or made to mother its kind. Unless there went from our minds consent (or from what we call the mind). But you, the highest of all she things, you gorge your- selves at your feasts. And you smoke and drink in a way we think would lower the standard of beasts,- For a ring and a roof and a rag you are bought by your males, to have and to hold; And you mate and you breed without nature's need,, while your hearts and your bodies are cold. All unwanted your offspring come, or you slay them before they are born. And now we wild she things of the earth have spoken and told our scorn. We have no minds and we have no souls, maybe as you think — and still. Never one of us ate or drank the things that poison and kill. And never was one of us known by a male except by our wish and will." ■..>w. 117 WE TWO ^^ WE two make home of any place we go ; We tw^o nna joy in any kind of >veatner; Or if tKe eartK is clotKed in bloom or snow^. If Summer days mvite or bleak w^mds blow^. What matters it if we two are together? We two, we two, w^e make our world, our w^eather. We two make banquets of the plainest fare ; In every cup w^e fina the thrill of pleasure ; We hide w^ith w^reaths the furrowed brow^ of care And w^in to smiles the set lips of despair. For us life always moves w^ith lilting measure ; We tw^o, we tw^o, we make our world, our pleasure. We tw^o find youth renewed with every daw^n ; Each day holds something of an unknow^n glory. We w^aste no thought on grief or pleasure gone ; Tricked out like Hope, Time leads us on and on. And thrums upon his harp new^ song or story. We two w^e tw^o, w^e find the paths of glory. We tw^o make heaven here on this little earth ; We do not need to w^ait for realms eternal. We know^ the use of tears, know^ sorrow^ s w^orth. And pain for us is always love s rebirth. Our paths lead closely by the paths supernal ; We tw^o, w^e two, w^e live in love eternal. ON AVON'S BREAST I SAW A STATELY SWAN One day w^hen England s June w^as at its best, I saw^ a stately and imperious swan Floating on Avon s fair untroubled breast. Sudden, it seemed as if all strife had gone Out of the world ; all discord, all unrest. The sorrow^s and the sinnings of the race Faded aw^ay like nightmares in the dawn. All heaven w^as one blue background for the grace Of Avon s beautiful, slow^-moving sw^an ; And earth held nothing mean or commonplace. Life seemed no longer to be hurrying on With unbecoming haste ; but softly trod. As one vi'ho reads in emerald leaf, or lawn. Or crimson rose a message straight from God. On Avon s breast I saw a stately swan. 118 THE TECHNIQUE OF IMMORTALITY THERE hangs a picture on my wall; Three leafless trees ; dead woods beyond ; Brown grasses and a marshy pond ; And over all An amber sunset oi late fall. Too frail the artist heart to cope With all the stern demands of fame. He passed before he w^on a name. Or gained his hope. To realms w^here dreams have larger scope. Yet in the modest little square Of canvas, that I daily see. He left a legacy to me Of something rare ; Far more than what is painted there. For tree and grass and sunset sky Hold subtler qualities than art. It IS the painter s pulsing heart That seems to cry, I loved these things — they' cannot die." And so they live ; to stir and move Each gazer s soul ; because they speak Of something mightier than technique. They live to prove The immortality of love. They speak this message day by day ; Love, love your work, or small or great ; Love, love, and leave the rest to fate. For love will stay When all things else have passed aw^ay." THE BIRTH OF THE ORCHID Wrapped in her robe of amethyst Rose the young Da\vn. Pallid w^ith passion came the Mist, And follow^ed on Fleet as a fawn. Dow^n by the sea they clasped and kissed ; Sw^ooned the young Dawn. Out of that kiss of dew and flame The orchid came. 119 THE SPINSTER I HERE are the orcnard trees all large witK fruit ; And yonder fields are golden witK young grain. In little journeys, brancnward irom tKe nest, A motKer bird, w^itli sAveet, insistent cries. Urges Ker young to use their untried Avings. A purring Tabby, stretched upon the SAvard, Sliuts and expands her velvet paws in joy, Wbile sturdy kittens nuzzle at her breast. migbty Maker of tKe Universe, Am I not part and parcel of TKy World? And one with Nature? Wherefore, then, in me Must this great reproductive impulse lie Hidden, ashamed, unnourished, and denied. Until it starves to slow^ and tortuous death? 1 knew the hope of springtime ; like the tree Now^ ripe w^ith fruit, I budded, and then bloomed; We laughed together through the young May morns ; We dreamed together through the summer moons ; Till all Thy purposes within the tree Were to fruition brought. Lord, Thou hast heard The Woman in me crying for the Man ; The Mother in me crying for the Child ; And made no answer. Am I less to Thee Than lower forms of Nature, or in truth Dost Thou hold somew^here in another Realm Full compensation and large recompense For lonely virtue forced by fate to live A life unnatural, in a natural world? II Thou who hast made for such sure purposes The mightiest and the meanest thing that is — Planned out the lives of insects of the air With fine precision and consummate care ; Thou who hast taught the bee the secret power Of carrying on love's law^s tw^ixt flo>ver and flow^er ; Why didst Thou shape this mortal frame of mine. If Heavenly joys alone were Thy design? Wherefore the wonder of my woman s breast. By lips of lover and of babe unpressed. If spirit children only shall reply Unto my ever urgent mother cry? Why should the rose be guided to its own. And my love-craving heart beat on alone? Ill Yet do I understand ; for Thou hast made Something more subtle than this heart of me; A finer part of me To be obeyed. 120 Albeit I am a sister to tne earth, Tnis nature self is not tne w^nole of me ; Tne deathless soul of me Has nobler birtn. The primal ^voman nungers for tne man ; My better self demands the mate of me; Tne spirit fate of me. Part of Tby plan. Nature is instinct Avith tne motner-need ; So IS my neart ; but an, the cnild of me Snould, undefilea of me. Spring from love s seed. Ana if, in barren cnastity, I must Know but in areams that perfect choice of me. Still will tbe voice of me Proclaim God just. STAIRWAYS AND GARDENS Gardens and Stairways ; tKose are w^ords tbat tKrill me AWays w^itn vague suggestions of deligbt. Stairw^ays and Gardens. Mystery and grace Seem part of their environment ; tney fill me With memories of tnings veiled from my sigKt In some far place. Gardens. The w^ord is overcharged w^ith meaning; It speaks of moonlignt and a closing door; Of birds at daw^n — of sultry afternoons. Gardens. I seem to see low^ brandies screening A vine-roofed arbor w^itn a leaf-tiled floor Where sunlight swoons. St Th< airw^ays. 1 ne w^ord w^inds upward to a landing. Then curves and vanishes in space above. Ligbts fall, ligKts rise ; soft ligbts tbat meet and blend. Stairw^ays ; and some one at tbe bottom standing Expectantly w^itn lifted looks of love. Tnen steps descend. Gardens and Stairways. TKey belong w^itb song — Witn subtle scents of perfume, myrrk and musk — With dawn and dusk — with youth, romance, and mys- tery. And times that were and times that are to be. StairAvays and gardens. 121 THE ASPHEMY HERE must be lonely moments wKen God feels — TKe need of prayer ■ I Such lonely moments, knowing not any where. "^ In any spot or place. In all the far recesses of vast space. Dwells anyone to whom His prayers may riae* And then, methinks — so urgent is His need — God bids His prayers descend. He that has ears to hear, let him take heed. For much God s prayers portend. 122 ^GUNS God flings His solar system fortK to he FinisKed by beings wbo befit eacK sphere. Not ours to pry tbe secrets out of Mars; Our ^vork lies nere. To star-folU, leave the stars. There must be many worlds that give God care; Young \^orlds that glow and burn. Old \vorlds that freeze and fade. r r^ * ^W " t f ^-^rH CA ^^'^ world is man's concern. ^^^^I^^^P] Methinks God must be very much dismayed. Seeing the use we make of earth to-dj While loud we pray. lay. Last nighl, in sleep, beyond the earth's small zone, yidventurouslv my spirit went alone, Past lesser hells and heavens, where souls may pause To learn the meaning of death's larger laws, Past astral shapes and bodies of desire, Past angels and archangels, high and higher, Until the pinnacles of space it trod. Then, awestruck,, paused, hearing the voice of God. Mortals of earth, for whom I shaped a sphere (So spake the Voice), there rises to mine ear Eternal praises and eternal pleas. Now, after centuries, I tire of these. Have ye no knowledge of the Maker s needs. Ye who ask favors and who praise by creeds^ Why has it not sufficed That unto this small earth I sent great Christ- Divine expression of the mortal man To aid my plan? Why ask for more when all has been refused? Why praise my name who hourly am abused^ Why seek for Me or heaven, when in you dwells Hate's lurid hells? Persistent praises and persuasive pleas — - I tire, I tire of these But I, the Maker of a billion suns, ^^ Ask men to stop the blasphemy of guns. This is God's prayer. {There must be many worlds that give God care) [23 THE FAITH WE NEED TOO tall our structures and too SAvift our pace ; Not SO \ve mount, not so we ^ain tKe race. Too loud the voice of commerce in tne land ; Not so truth speaks, not so we understand. Too vast our conquests, and too large our gains ; Not so comes peace, not so the soul attains. But the need of the w^orld is a faith that will live any- where ; In the still, dark depths of the ^voods,or out in the sun s full glare. A faith that can hear God s voice, alike in the quiet glen. Or in the roar of the street, and over the noises of men. And the need of the w^orld is a creed that is founded on joy; A creed >vith turrets of hope and trust, no ^vlnds can destroy ; A creed w^here the soul finds rest, w^hatever this life bestow^s. And dw^ells undoubting and unafraid, because it knows, it kno^vs. And the need of the world is love that burns in the heart like flame ; A love for the Giver of life, in sorrow^ or joy the same ; A love that blazes a trail to God through the dark and the cold. Or keeps the pathw^ay that leads to Him clean, through glory and gold. For the laith that can only thrive or grow^ in the solitude. And droops and dies m the marts of men, w^here sights and sounds are rude ; That is not a faith at all, but a dream of a mystic s heart. Our faith should point as the compass points, >vhatever be the chart. Our faith must find its centre of peace in a babel of noise ; In the changing w^ays of the ■world of men it must keep its poise ; And over the sorrowing sounds of earth it must hear God s call ; And the faith that cannot do all this, that is not faith at all. 124 REINCARNATION HE slept as weary toilers do, Sne gazed up at the moon. He stirred and said, "Wife, come to ted"; Sne answered, "Soon, full soon." (OK! that strange mystery of tKe dead moon's face.) Her cKeek was wan, Ker wistful mouth Was lifted like a cup: The moonful night dripped liquid light: She seemed to quaff it up. (Oh ! that unhuried corpse that lies in space.) Her life had held but drudgery — She spelled her Bihle through ; Of books and lore she knew no more Than little children do. (Oh ! the weird wonder of that pallid sphere.) Her youth had been a loveless waste. Starred by no holiday. And she had wed for roof, and bread ; She gave her work in pay. (Oh ! the moon-memories, vague and strange and dear.) She drank the night's insidious wine. And saw^ another scene ; A stately room — rare flowers in bloom. Herself in silken sheen. (Oh ! vast the chambers of the moon, and wide.) A step drew near, a curtain stirred ; She shook with great alarms. Oh ! splendid face ; oh ! manly grace ; Oh ! strong impassioned arms. (Oh ! silent moon, what secrets do you hide !) The warm red lips of thirsting love On cheek and brow were pressed ; As the bees know where honeys grow. They sought her mouth, her breast. (Oh ! the dead moon holds many a dead delight.) The sleeper stirred and gruffly spake. ^ ave yo u b< .7" Come, w^ife, where h She whispered low, "Dear God, I go — But 'tis the seventh sin." (Oh, the sad secrets of that orb of white.) 125 A RAINY NIGHT WHEN tKe nngers of rain on tne window pane Tap, tap, tap. And tKe feet of tKe rain run over the roof In the dark of a summer nignt, TKen out of tKeir graves old memories creep And they steal up into tKe nouse of sleep And tKey rap, rap, rap On the door of the heart till it sets a lignt And opens the portal and spreads tne ooard For the w^aitmg horde. Then the great wide world seems all astir With the ghostly shapes of the things that were. A Pleasure that perished, a dead Despair, An old Delight and a vanished Care, A Passion that builded its funeral pyre. From the worthless timber of brief desire, A Hope that w^andered and lost its w^ay In the dazzling beams of its own bright ray. With long gone Worries and long lost Joys Come stealthily creeping with never a noise (For the things that have gone on the road to God, When they turn back earthward are silence-shod) ; And they enter the heart s great living room When the ram beats dow^n from a sky of gloom In the dark of a summer night. And they tell old tales and they sing old songs That are sw^eet, sw^eet, sw^eet ; While the fingers oi rain on the w^indow^ pane Beat, beat, beat. And they feast on the past and drink its w^ine And call it a brew^ divme. But when m the east the darkness pales And the edge of the clouds show^ light. The ghosts go back w^ith a silent tread And only the heart knows what they said In the dark of the summer night. REWARD Fate used me meanly; but I looked at her and laughed. That none might know^ hoAv bitter w^as the cup I quaffed. Along came Joy, and paused beside me w^here I sat. Saying, I came to see what you were laughing at." 126 RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT IQwmm^ 202 Main Library LOAN PERIOD 1 ~ HOME USE 2 : 3 4 5 ( b ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS Renewals and Recharges may be made 4 days prior to the due date. Books may be Renewed by calling 642-3405. DUE AS STAMPED BELOW t '-rr\ r\\^i^ AUTO. uSvjo. JUN 1 i-^^ (-.;pO\jlATtnM UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY FORM NO. DD6 BERKELEY, CA 94720 1 ®s "C. BEBKElEniBMmEs II <^00b0t^l0S 3 580 J, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY '