ilifornia 
 
 lonal 
 
 ility
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 .,
 
 tp Stuart >ttme. 
 
 ANGELO. A Poem. i8mo, gilt top, $1.00. 
 GIORGIO, AND OTHER POEMS. i8mo, 
 
 full gilt, $1.00. 
 BEYOND THE SHADOW. Poems. i8mo, 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK.
 
 BEYOND THE SHADOW 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 STUART STERNE 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
 
 Copyright, 1888, 
 BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge : 
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co-
 
 II 
 
 To 
 ONE "BEYOND THE SHADOW" 
 
 THROUGH WHOM HAS COME TO MB 
 
 A HERITAGE OF TEARS, BUT ALSO A PURER FAITH IN GOD AND MAN, 
 AND A DEEPER COMPREHENSION OF 
 
 LIFE, DEATH, AND ETERNITY, 
 IN UNFALTERING LOVE ARE INSCRIBED 
 
 QttjtBt $agf5, 
 
 BY 
 S. S. 
 
 304516
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 AFTER DEATH. 
 
 I. A VOICE FROM ABOVE .... 7 
 
 II. A VOICE FROM BELOW 13 
 
 III. THE VOICE FROM ABOVE .... 19 
 
 IV. SECOND VOICE FROM ABOVE . . . .26 
 
 A MAIDEN'S QUESTION 37 
 
 SURRENDER 41 
 
 YEARNING 43 
 
 A FLOWER OF HOPE 45 
 
 INSUFFICIENCY 48 
 
 Two SONNETS 50 
 
 THE FACE OF GOD 52 
 
 A WELL OF SORROW 54 
 
 THROUGH THE MIDNIGHT SKY 57 
 
 GOD'S PEACE 59 
 
 HYMN 61 
 
 INTO THY HANDS 63 
 
 SONNET 66 
 
 THE HERB FORGETFULNESS 67 
 
 THY WILL BE DONE 69 
 
 MY FATHER'S CHILD 70
 
 iv CONTENTS. 
 
 AFTER-YEARS 72 
 
 HOPE 77 
 
 CUPID 78 
 
 YOUNG LOVE 81 
 
 His WILL, NOT MINE 83 
 
 SHIPWRECKED 86 
 
 LOVE HAS DECEIVED ME 88 
 
 MARIANA 90 
 
 THE SILENT HOUSE 92 
 
 SONG 94 
 
 LOVE ME 95 
 
 SORROW 96 
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE 98 
 
 THE STROLLING PLAYER 103 
 
 THE OLD POET'S REST 105 
 
 DESIRE 106 
 
 TRUST ME NOT, LOVE 107 
 
 THY HEART is LIKE THE SUN 109 
 
 WHERE HAST THOU GONE, O MY SOUL . . .no 
 
 SONNET 112 
 
 OH, BAR THY GATES 113 
 
 ROME 115 
 
 SUNDAY 118 
 
 To AN UNKNOWN LOVE 119 
 
 O FLOWER MOST FINE . . . . . .123 
 
 GREECE 125 
 
 LIKE TO A BROOK, O SONG 127 
 
 BE STILL 130 
 
 ALL FUTURE YEARS ALONG 132 
 
 ABOVE AND EARTH AND TIME 135 
 
 IN VAIN 13?
 
 CONTENTS. V 
 
 ETERNAL SPRING 140 
 
 SONNET 142 
 
 TRANSFORMATION 143 
 
 SONNET 144 
 
 Two SONNETS. SOLITUDE AND SILENCE . . 145 
 
 SONNET 147
 
 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 AFTER DEATH. 
 
 A VOICE FROM ABOVE. 
 
 WHERE am I ? Do I live ? When yesternight, 
 Even as the tide went out 'neath paling stars, 
 My fevered eyes closed wearily, I caught 
 In the last gleam of fading consciousness, 
 The whispered words, " 'T is over, he is dead ! " 
 And yet, oh strange ! these eyes are open 
 
 now, 
 
 And painless lift their lids ! I gaze around, 
 I turn my head, I see and feel and touch 
 A hand, an arm, beneath me trunk and limbs 
 More light, more fine, yet not all unlike those 
 That shall be laid away beneath the ground, 
 Which sometimes proved a burden, weighing 
 
 down 
 The spirit with their cumbrance ; yet more days
 
 8 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Filled me with a brave sense of joy and power, 
 When lustily, in full, free swing they sported 
 In the glad earthly sunshine. 
 
 And is this 
 
 That second better world, whereof so much 
 Was said and preached and sung to us below ? 
 This leaden, low-hung, murky sky, but cleft 
 By a dull bar of orange far beyond, 
 This heaving, turbid sea, whose fretful waves 
 Chafe the bleak shore, and this gray, barren rock 
 Whereon I lie ? nude, without hope, alone, 
 Even as ten thousand centuries ago 
 The first created man was helpless cast 
 On that rude nether world, whence but so late 
 I was translated hither. 
 
 Ah, look there ! 
 
 A sight no living eye has ever seen ! 
 In the dim distance, their blurred outlines dark 
 Against that tawny bar across the sky, 
 A cloud of shadowy shapes, adrift, awhirl, 
 Like seething vapors lashed by wind and rain, 
 Thousands on thousands, a vast, countless throng, 
 A shifting, writhing, mighty multitude 
 Of human forms that endless pass and pass!
 
 AFTER DEATH. 9 
 
 Departed spirits like myself, past doubt, 
 And like myself, here, to their own surprise, 
 Clothed in some semblance of their earthly garb, 
 And finer substance. 
 
 Ah, and hark ! there rises, 
 
 Distinct from muttering sea and soughing wind, 
 A sound no living ear has ever heard, 
 A weird, wild, wailing note, a long-drawn chant, 
 That comes in fitful gusts, swells, sinks and dies 
 In broken accents on the heavy air, 
 Waking faint echoes. 
 
 Who, what were they all, 
 Those flitting shades ? how came they to this 
 
 shore, 
 
 That lies like a bleak, desert, fire-swept island, 
 Sunless and starless, in the very midst 
 Of God's great universe of light and joy? 
 God ! oh, tremendous word ! let me not now 
 Give without trembling utterance to the name 
 My heedless tongue was wont to take in vain ! 
 Who, what was I myself, how came I here ? 
 
 Let me remember ! Yes, I was a man, 
 Fair, tall, of powerful frame and lofty brow,
 
 TO BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 With eloquent lips that swayed the souls of men, 
 
 Persuading them to laughter or to tears, 
 
 And with a heart in this broad, deep-voiced 
 
 breast 
 
 Full as the sunny grape of generous sweetness, 
 That should have proved a blessing to my kind. 
 God lavished on me rich, rare, happy gifts, 
 Opened a thousand opportunities 
 For goodness and for greatness ! Oh, but I 
 I, like a foolish boy, a ruthless knave, 
 Who plucks for wanton sport with impious hands 
 The fairest crimson heart of all the summer 
 To scatter its sweet petals to the wind ; 
 I used, spoiled, wasted all, squandered and 
 
 spent, 
 
 Within a few mad years, the garnered wealth 
 That should have served me through a long, 
 
 glad life; 
 Passed the loud nights 'mid laughter, wine, and 
 
 song, 
 
 And kisses from red lips, bought for a price, 
 The days in idle pleasure, nothing, not 
 My children's voices, nor their baby hands, 
 Could win or pluck me from. My children, ay, 
 For God made me a father !
 
 AFTER DEATH. II 
 
 So at last 
 
 The soul that drank too thirstily and deep 
 Of all the bitter sweetness of the world, 
 Forgot all else, and from the fevered brain 
 There faded like poor, pallid smoke, high thought 
 And lofty purpose and immortal aim j 
 Nay, do not smile ; for I, too, knew them once, 
 High thought and lofty purpose, even I, 
 Like some dim gleaming castle in the clouds, 
 A child may feebly reach for. 
 
 So at last 
 
 I shrank to but a shadow of myself, 
 The strength of manhood shriveled in my veins, 
 The very heart itself, grown tainted too, 
 Contracted and turned crabbed, harsh, and sour, 
 Even as the generous juices of the grape 
 May rot through some unsoundness in the vine, 
 For something from the very first beginning 
 Must needs have been amiss, when I was made, 
 Some mortal weakness lurking in the blood, 
 Else, mayhap, had I not gone thus astray, 
 So far, so hopelessly ! And like a tower 
 Sapped at the root from its foundation stone, 
 I crumbled, tottered, then gave way and fell ; 
 I who so gayly rode life's awful sea,
 
 12 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 But like a summer bark with silken sails, 
 Thoughtless of all the storms that sleep below, 
 Was shipwrecked utterly ! perished long ere 
 That brief, last mortal weakness stole upon me, 
 And men said, " He is dead ! " 
 
 And now, what now? 
 
 Even here alone, on this dark, desert shore 
 Of a dim, unknown, strange, and awful world, 
 Cut off from all companionship, all ties 
 Of love and comfort, I must undertake 
 A sore, tremendous, never-ending task, 
 The slow salvation of my soul ! Ay, from 
 Such scant material, such few broken spars 
 As I may find in that abandoned soul, 
 Build me a new, nobler, more worthy life 
 Than ever yet it dreamed. 
 
 Yet where begin, 
 
 How set to work ? Ah, how, save but with Him, 
 Him the beginning and the end of all things 
 Of earth or heaven ! Behold, I move, I rise, 
 I stand erect and firm ! But joyfully 
 Do my repentant knees and humbled brow 
 Sink back again to kiss the barren ground ! 
 All-merciful, Almighty, Infinite God,
 
 AFTER DEATH. 13 
 
 Whom in the world below I never knew, 
 
 Turn not Thy face from me, my first act here 
 
 Is prostrate to adore Thy Blessed Name ! 
 
 II. 
 
 A VOICE FROM BELOW. 
 
 HAST thou in truth passed to that shore we call 
 The land of darkness and eternal silence? 
 Thou too, whom our fond hearts were wont to 
 
 think 
 
 So panoplied in fairest life and power, 
 That mortal ills could scarce assail thee ? Ay, 
 Gone mutely, with veiled head ? Thou, on whose 
 
 lips 
 
 Sat golden speech like music, and a smile 
 So infinite sweet, that with its fading out 
 Something was taken from the sunlight, never 
 To be restored, and one gray shadow more 
 Added to weary earth. 
 
 Here, in this world, 
 
 While thy gay heart still basked in light and joy, 
 My eager soul was wont to follow thee 
 With love and yearning. It was with thee oft
 
 14 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 At noisy feast and revel, or again 
 
 In those rare lonely hours of silent night, 
 
 When it may be thy nobler nature woke 
 
 To warn and plead aloud. And so even now 
 
 It would go forth, groping its fearless way 
 
 'Mid the dim shadows of that shore of death, 
 
 To pierce the mystery and awful gloom 
 
 That wrap thee round, be with thee still 
 
 through all 
 
 The sore probation that must now be thine, 
 Yes, by the laws of everlasting justice, 
 Thy daily cup ! 
 
 For God had made thee great, 
 As rich in substance and most precious seed, 
 As some proud tree, whose heart shuts in the 
 
 promise 
 
 Of thousand fragrant flowers and golden fruit, 
 And yet thou wast but small, thy barren life 
 In the few sickly blossoms it put forth, 
 But half fulfilling the immortal bond, 
 For thine own heedless hand marred wantonly 
 God's image in thy soul, until at last 
 That very soul itself, long sapped, gave way, 
 Bore down with it, in its tremendous fall, 
 Thy noble frame, still green in years and honors.
 
 AFTER DEATH. 15 
 
 And yet, oh thought of helpless anguish ! yet 
 
 It had not been impossible to save thee, 
 
 Yes, oh sweet stars, save thee for earth and 
 
 heaven ! 
 Love might have saved thee, woman's love, 
 
 a love 
 
 Oh let me dare to utter it ! like mine, 
 The deepest, purest thou hadst ever known! 
 A love God knows, that did not ask for much 
 Save but the highest boon, to serve and cherish 
 All that was best within thee, minister 
 To thy most noble needs and loftiest aims, 
 Fan into life and nourish with its breath 
 The all too feebly flickering, sacred fire 
 Upon thy altar, sunk to ashes now, 
 Where lies the shrine in ruins ! 
 
 Aye, I loved thee, 
 
 And thou hadst guessed it, for I never hid 
 My heart from thee, brave in its innocence, 
 And though thou daredst not wholly take that 
 
 heart, 
 
 Yet couldst thou not reject it utterly, 
 For some fine instinct whispered to thy soul 
 Thy sorest need, thy last undying hope, 
 Was in such love as this. Once, I remember,
 
 1 6 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Hearing of it thy ready tears gushed forth, 
 And oft I know it moved thee to perceive 
 My ceaseless, tender thought of thee, and some- 
 times 
 
 I ween my trembling fingers found and struck 
 The deepest chords thy breast had left, yet oh, 
 Even those so faint they brought my aching heart 
 No more content than one poor drop of water 
 To burning lips long parched with fevered 
 
 thirst ! 
 
 Such were my dearest joys ! Without avail 
 Would my great love have folded round thy life 
 Strong sheltering arms to keep thee from all ill ; 
 Without avail my soul reached out for thine 
 To purify, make new, in vain, in vain, 
 The effort hopeless, yet divine ! What power, 
 What very god transformed a hollow ring 
 To a deep golden goblet, that may hold 
 Unspilled the choicest vintage of our lives, 
 A glistening pebble to a granite rock, 
 On whose eternal basis we may found 
 Our soul's salvation ? 
 
 And long-suffering love, 
 
 That had endured unnumbered, nameless pangs, 
 Been baffled, bruised, struck to the heart of 
 hearts
 
 AFTER DEATH. \J 
 
 A thousand times, and yet a thousand times 
 As by a miracle won back to life, 
 Sickened at last, and died in sorest travail, 
 Forever and past hope ! so utterly, 
 That when I met thy dim, unconscious gaze 
 On the last couch that bore thy weary frame, 
 When all was over, and I knew the lips 
 That mine had kissed, rigid in death, no cry 
 Sprang to these lips, wellnigh as set as thine, 
 No tears to these dry eyes, drained long ago, 
 And in the stony silence of the heart 
 That had so freely spilled its ruddy life, 
 Naught woke or stirred, save but the feeble voice 
 Of a large, general pity ! 
 
 And what now? 
 
 Must I surrender thee, thy stricken soul, 
 To the chill love and prayers and tears of her 
 Who bore thy name, but to thy heart was dead, 
 Or to that other, not thy wife, and yet 
 The mother of thy best beloved child ? 
 To any one, who, in the garish sunlight, 
 E'er quaffed with thee the sparkling draft of joy ? 
 No, by great Heaven, all that is done forever ! 
 Those voiceless shadows of the vanished past 
 Fall back and fade from sight and leave thee 
 free,
 
 1 8 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 All those false ties are snapped, have dropped 
 
 away 
 
 Even with thy earthly frame ! Now, now at last 
 Am I thy sole companion, I, O God, 
 Who never knew but love's most bitter cup ! 
 Now, 'mid dread darkness and unbroken gloom, 
 I claim the place beside thee, that I won 
 In untold anguish, claim it now in joy ! 
 For something still, despite this double death 
 Of life in thee, of love in me, something 
 That cannot perish while my soul survives, 
 Knits me to thee ! 
 
 Yet stay, what do I dream, - 
 It may not be ! E'en I must stand aside, 
 Thyself alone must work thine own salvation, 
 Thou under God's dear mercy! Ay, to His 
 Relentless justice, yet unfailing love, 
 Into His chastening, yet most tender Hands, 
 Do I commit thy soul, and am content, 
 What though from out these barren eyes once 
 
 more 
 The blinding tears gush forth, my friend, my 
 
 lover !
 
 AFTER DEATH. 19 
 
 III. 
 THE VOICE FROM ABOVE. 
 
 How long I have been here, what months, what 
 
 years, 
 
 Or can it be but many nights and days ? 
 What time has passed, since I first woke from 
 
 death 
 
 And wondering found myself on this bleak shore, 
 I may not say, or if they count it time, 
 Or if they call it day or night at all, 
 This endless interchange of pallid dawn 
 And dusky twilight, and dim shifting dark 
 That never broadens into noon nor deepens 
 To golden sunset or a star-filled night. 
 Methinks a hundred thousand days like this* 
 Have risen, died, come again, slow, weary, hope- 
 less, 
 
 Amid my solitude, crept by at last, 
 Though how, I know not. Only this I know, 
 That even as in the ground shut far away 
 From sun and star, there lies some quickening 
 
 seed 
 
 Which hourly swells and throbs with fuller life, 
 Puts forth a delicate root a tender germ
 
 20 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 The promise of a leaf, till round about 
 The very earth that held it captive long, 
 Thrills as with joy and parts to set it free, 
 So do I bear in this dark breast of mine 
 Unfolding more and more from day to day 
 The consciousness, the thought, the love of God, 
 Thrice blessed be His Name! 
 
 And now and then 
 
 There slowly filters through this dusk a whiteness 
 Not day, but like a broken gleam of day 
 Before its fading, and around me steals 
 A breath of faint, sweet perfume, passing grateful 
 Even as the voiceless presence of a friend, 
 Even as the prayers and tears and loving thought 
 Of some most tender, faithful heart ! Yet whose ? 
 None lives that here would follow such as me ! 
 A subtle essence, strange and yet familiar, 
 That sometime, somewhere on the earth below 
 Methinks my grosser senses must have known 
 And yet but half received. But when and how ? 
 Surely amid no feast and revel, surely 
 From none of those, oh memories forlorn ! 
 Who in a wanton hour of mad delight 
 These arms have clasped, these lips, yet no, 
 thank God !
 
 AFTER DEATH. 21 
 
 Not these : I was made new ! Stay, let me think, 
 Strive to remember, was there no one else ? 
 One who perchance, yes, yes, ah, Heaven, 
 
 't is that 
 
 I know thee now, sweet spirit ! It is thou, 
 My dearest, best of friends, my little woman, 
 Who send'st this message of brave cheer and hope, 
 Whose soul would seek and follow me even here, 
 Amid the shades of death ! oh joy supreme, 
 I never dared to dream myself so blest, 
 Thy heart, I feared, had cast me off forever! 
 
 She was not passing fair, mayhap, nor yet 
 In the first flush of youth, a fleeting glance 
 Might not have turned to gaze at her again, 
 But mine soon learned to dwell with secret joy 
 Upon that noble face. Her brow was thoughtful, 
 And from the quiet, dark brown eyes looked 
 
 forth 
 
 A soul most honest, earnest, deep and tender, 
 A virgin soul as pure as childhood's self, 
 Untouched by all the evils of the world, 
 A soul God blessed with power to read the truth, 
 Simple in all her ways, of gentle speech, 
 Ay, from the serious lips there ever came 
 A low sweet voice and sometimes pleasant laugh- 
 ter,
 
 22 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Brave, patient, generous, she revealed herself 
 A spirit rare and high, of such fine mould, 
 So far above all other creatures made 
 In woman's image, that had crossed my path, 
 So far, alas ! above my wretched self, 
 That all too long my dull, corrupted sense 
 Scarce marked her from the crowd. 
 
 How first, and when, 
 She came still as a star, into my life, 
 I do not well remember, but methinks 
 'Twas for some noble purpose of my art, 
 Wherein her heart was bound, like mine. And 
 
 after 
 
 Many a long hour, oh golden memories, 
 Of those glad, unforgotten days of earth ! 
 We spent in earnest talk, I smiling sometimes, 
 In my sad earthly wisdom wont to call 
 Her aim too lofty and her flight too high, 
 Though now I know, sweet Saint, that by those 
 
 laws 
 
 Thy deeper insight strove to teach me then, 
 The world, God's world, is ruled, must stand or 
 
 fall! 
 
 That her great soul was ever drawn to mine, 
 A rushlight glimmering feebly through the dark,
 
 AFTER DEATH. 2$ 
 
 Beside her own, no more, was passing strange, 
 But that she gave me too, let me dare speak, 
 What she was not unwilling I should guess ! 
 That stainless gem above all price, her heart, 
 Me, a poor creature smirched with many sins, 
 Seemed God's own miracle ! I wept hot tears 
 When first I learned it, tears of wondering 
 
 pity, 
 
 Of fear, of joy, for her, for me, us both, 
 
 And once, twice, thrice, yes, at three different 
 
 times, 
 
 She put her modest arms about my neck, 
 And her sweet lips to mine. She knew most well 
 I could not claim her, though not all dark ties 
 That held me bound, and yet God's purest angels, 
 While the dim earth has stood with Heaven 
 
 above, 
 
 Recorded not a holier kiss than that 
 On our sad wedded lips ! The heavy heart 
 To which I clasped thee, little woman, thrilled 
 With sudden, unknown hope, for one brief hour 
 It seemed that touch had purged me from all 
 
 taint, 
 
 Sin dropped away, I walked a new-made man, 
 Redeemed, blest, sanctified ! But, oh, God help 
 
 me !
 
 24 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Even then I sank again : the thought of thee, 
 Thy voice, thy face, drowned in wild pleasure's 
 
 tide, 
 
 Forgot the benediction of thy lips 
 Amid accursed kisses! Ay, past doubt, 
 A thousand times some coarser strain in me 
 Jarred rudely on thy soul, yes, now and then, 
 I caught a troubled shadow in thine eyes ! 
 Until thy delicate spirit must have turned 
 In loathing from the bitter cup whereof 
 It drained so deep a draught ! 
 
 And yet for all, 
 
 She never wholly knew, nor I confessed, 
 How dear, how precious, what a blessed part 
 Of all my deepest life, she grew to be, 
 How all my nobler nature clave to her 
 With strong and stronger tendrils. 'Mid the 
 
 throng 
 
 Of eager, upturned faces wont to greet me 
 Night after night, for I was one of those 
 Who on the stage which mimics life, show forth 
 The passions and the pains and joys of men, 
 It was her eyes I sought and loved to find 
 With their still, earnest gaze, that marked, I 
 
 knew,
 
 AFTER DEATH. 2$ 
 
 Each lofty effort and each finer touch, 
 Her praise and very blame I loved to hear 
 Better than hollow thunders of applause 
 Too easily won. In lonely hours, her face 
 Oft rose before me, sweet yet sorrowful, 
 And sometimes suddenly rilled me with a strange 
 Unutterable yearning, sharp as death, 
 And when I broke, and to my puzzled brain 
 The strands of life grew tangled hopelessly, 
 All the bleak world transformed to shifting chaos, 
 Where my dim vision strained to grasp and hold 
 Some distinct form, some gleam of steady light, 
 It was her image that stood clearly out, 
 Pure, radiant, beautiful, from all that maze 
 Of never-lifting cloud. 
 
 And now, and now, 
 What though I trembling thought that all was 
 
 ended 
 
 Forever, yet she comes to me again, 
 Oh, Heaven, what may I hope, what glean there- 
 from ? 
 That still, that she even now 
 
 My God, my Father ! 
 If in Thy infinite mercy Thou wilt deign
 
 26 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 To hearken to the humblest of Thy children, 
 
 Receive a prayer wrung from the deepest heart 
 
 Of him whom now no earthly passion moves, 
 
 Upon my bended knees I here implore Thee, 
 
 If it be possible somehow, sometime, 
 
 In the long course of all eternity, 
 
 That I grow less unworthy, I will wait 
 
 And hope and serve with never-failing patience, 
 
 Oh, mayhap in a thousand, thousand years, 
 
 My God, my Father, give her then to me ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 SECOND VOICE FROM ABOVE. 
 
 AY, let us pause here for a while, Sweet Soul, 
 Upon this gentle hill 'neath spreading trees, 
 Where towards the left lie the wide happy 
 
 fields, 
 
 Flushed with the mellow light of evening now, 
 Skirting the wood, o'er whose dim golden path 
 Our Loves shall come to us, and on the right 
 We may look upward, downward, everywhere 
 Into immeasurable crystal space ! 
 Yes, this is well ; sit here with thy dear hand 
 Close clasped in mine !
 
 AFTER DEATH. 2 7 
 
 See where, far, far below, 
 Floats like a tiny, troubled cloud the earth, 
 The poor, bleak earth, our former home ! Oh, 
 
 sometimes 
 
 Even here, in all this infinite content, 
 A nameless pity seizes on my heart 
 For those who still 'mid doubt and fear and 
 
 darkness 
 Grope their blind pathway through that vale of 
 
 tears ! 
 
 And yet God lives to them, even as He lived 
 To thee, to me, the same Immortal Hope 
 He ever proved since earth came from His hands, 
 To all who, rising over death triumphant, 
 Have entered here at last ! 
 \ 
 
 Friend, thou hast prayed me 
 Sometime to tell thee of myself, of how 
 I lost and won my Love him who next God 
 Makes Heaven to me, and everlasting life ! 
 I will so now, the memories of earth 
 Are strong upon me, tell thee all, but yet 
 Briefly as may be ! - 'T is a sad, dark tale, 
 Oh, infinite darker, sadder than thine own, 
 Indeed, indeed, though thou look'st up at me 
 With gentle wonder in thy happy eyes !
 
 28 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 When thy dear Love died for his country's weal, 
 Struck by a shot that slew two lives in one, 
 Thou as thy heart broke, gazing on the face 
 That smiled no more, hadst yet one drop of joy, 
 Exceeding joy, in thy most bitter cup, 
 Your mutual, holy, pure and single love, 
 The thought his stainless soul went straight to 
 
 God, 
 
 Thy image there undimmed, the parting breath 
 Upon his lips, thy name ! But I, but I 
 Lived and loved on, knowing that he I loved 
 Was all unworthy of my love, as men 
 Had blindly said, though God judged otherwise, 
 That stifling nobler promptings, he had fallen 
 From honor and high virtue countless times, 
 That having wife and child his arms had clasped 
 God wot how oft ! fair other forms, his lips 
 Kissed other lips than theirs, in wanton hours 
 Of idle pleasure ! Oh, yet let me pause, 
 Enough, enough ! Spare me from telling fur- 
 ther 
 What but to think on hurts ! 
 
 I knew all this, 
 And shrank from him, scorned, pitied, judged, 
 
 condemned, 
 Yet loved him still ! This was my sin, perchance,
 
 AFTER DEATH. 39 
 
 And if it was, O God, I paid its price 
 In tears of blood ! 
 
 Nay, Friend, let not thy heart 
 Be over-troubled, nor thy brow grow dark ! 
 Pray clearly understand it was not thus 
 When first I saw him ! then I knew of naught, 
 Not even he was wed. Ay, poor, pale Shade 
 Who bore his name, yet to his heart was dead 
 Long years before he looked upon my face, 
 Thou know'st I never wronged thee, J t was not I 
 Who won his soul from thee ! I loved not him, 
 
 Or so I thought at first, who loved not me, 
 
 Nay, I am sure, nor then nor till long after ! 
 But his great art, I fancied, drew my heart 
 With power resistless, and too boldly brave, 
 
 I blindly followed till it was too late, 
 
 Till I had drained again and yet again 
 
 The poisoned cup that proved so deadly sweet, 
 
 Till my poor soul was hopeless knit with his 
 
 For all eternity ! 
 
 Long, long, I tell thee, 
 I never knew but all was well with him, 
 Fondly believing that it must be so. 
 For something in his voice and eye and smile,
 
 30 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 The grave and yet most gracious presence, full 
 Of generous sweetness and mild warmth and 
 
 light, 
 
 For these alone I ever found in him, 
 Even as an autumn day of golden sunshine, 
 Though sometimes dashed, to eyes as keen as 
 
 mine, 
 
 With sudden sadness. Ay, all, all, I say, 
 Seemed to make answer to a secret question : 
 Whatever pangs and bitterness life brought, 
 His heart is stainless, and his mind attuned 
 To lofty purpose, into his dear keeping 
 Would I entrust my own immortal soul ! 
 Nor did I wholly err ! For oh, in truth, 
 He was most nobly, richly, greatly planned, 
 Full of the seeds of all divinest things, 
 His deepest wrong to be too easily won 
 From the fair heights he clearly saw above, 
 To low and lower levels, till, methinks 
 His better angel must have wept beholding 
 The radiant image of the Lord he knew 
 And yet denied, trailed through the common 
 
 dust! 
 
 But late I say, and by most slow degrees, 
 The knowledge and conviction that in him,
 
 AFTER DEATH. 31 
 
 Him too, there dwelled a taint of odious sin, 
 Broke on my doubting spirit, which believed 
 And hoped in him, past evidence and proof. 
 But when they came, and I could doubt no 
 
 longer, 
 
 Oh Godf, what tempests and wild bursts of tears, 
 What hours of anguish and heart-broken prayer, 
 What travail of the spirit, gasping, stifling 
 For light and air, amid unbroken night, 
 Till reason like a feebly flickering torch 
 Wind - blown and rain - drenched, seemed nigh 
 
 spent, sometimes ! 
 
 If it be true we must to Hell descend 
 Ere we may after find the path to Heaven, 
 I drank its bitter, maddening waters then, 
 If once within the lives of all there comes 
 A Passion, in some humble way recalling 
 The pangs of Him who suffered on the Cross, 
 That was my Calvary ! 
 
 Nay, nay, Sweet Soul, 
 
 Thou say'st I 'm white and tremble, and I feel 
 Thy loving arms steal round me tenderly! 
 'Tis strange mayhap, these memories of old 
 Should have such power to shake me thus even 
 now !
 
 32 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 But think upon some gentle fawn, hedged in 
 By forest fires, whose cruel tongues of flame 
 Do merciless scorch and gnaw its tender vitals, 
 Till blinded, breathless, mad with writhing pangs, 
 It turns and turns again to find escape, 
 
 And meets but blazing death on every hand ! 
 
 Or on a new-fledged bird, his delicate breast 
 Transfixed by some fierce thorn, that as in vain 
 He fluttering, bleeding, strives to break away, 
 Pierces but deeper through the quivering flesh, 
 And thou may'st guess, perchance Yet no, no, 
 
 no! 
 
 All these have but the sting of outward pain, 
 No sense of subtler and more awful anguish, 
 No image but itself can serve to show 
 The aching, bleeding, bursting heart, the tortures 
 Of the despairing soul wellnigh undone, 
 Struck in its deepest and most sacred life, 
 By touching evil ! Of a soul born white 
 By Heaven's dear grace, and loathing unclean 
 
 things, 
 Yet sickening 'neath the thought, mayhap I, 
 
 too, 
 
 Shall perish now, shall be attainted, smirched, 
 Till God Himself shall turn His Face from me, 
 Through love of him who turned from God ! 
 
 And yet,
 
 AFTER DEATH. 33 
 
 For all and all, through hell and death and dark- 
 ness, 
 
 Distracted, shuddering, shrinking, still compelled 
 To follow and to love ! Oh, Sweetest Soul, 
 Believe me, oh believe me, who through him 
 Wellnigh myself have known its mortal pangs, 
 There is no ill, no loss, no death, save sin ! 
 
 Yet is 't not written, Love shall conquer Death, 
 Ay, even the death of deaths ? So love lived on, 
 Dwelled with me still, an hourly agony, 
 As Saints of old 't is said were wont to wear 
 A belt of chafing nettles next their heart, 
 Lived on despite of thousand wounds it suffered, 
 Though at each fierce, unworthy stab I thought 
 This is the end ! Now, now it bleeds to death, 
 And so most well ! Or it or I must perish ! 
 A hundred times I deemed the victory mine, 
 Believed that all indeed for aye was over, 
 Oh but to find myself a hundred times 
 Deceived in that most hopeless, vain conceit ! 
 Again and yet again with twofold force, 
 With new-found life, triumphantly it rose, 
 Even like a spring long flowing underground 
 Bursts forth at last past human power to stay, 
 Like that charmed tree from whose immortal 
 trunk
 
 34 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 For one poor twig lopped off, sprang twenty 
 
 branches 
 In richest leaf and flower. 
 
 And thus indeed, 
 
 The end drew nigh, nay, not of love to me, 
 But life to him, still green in years and honors. 
 The end yet the beginning; for from death, 
 What has been called so with most ill a title, 
 Sprang new, immortal life to both of us. 
 To him redemption came ; to me, when earth 
 Had closed above his head, deep, infinite peace 
 In the blest thought Whatever now betide, 
 ,He is with God ! no longer tossed and fretted 
 'Mid the fierce heats of the tumultuous world 
 That all too easily lured and conquered him ! 
 And then with nameless joy broke on my heart, 
 Like a slow, radiant dawn, the consciousness, 
 He lives, I love him, oh and under God, 
 My love may help him in the sore probation, 
 That by all laws of everlasting justice 
 Must now be his ! Help him I know not how, 
 Yet God's dear mercy does, He will dispose ! 
 
 Thus patiently, at peace, and full of hope, 
 I lingered on the earth, whose sun had fled, 
 For ten years more. To him he says they were
 
 AFTER DEATH. 
 
 35 
 
 As twenty thousand, while in gloomy twilight, 
 'Mid pangs unspeakable, he toiled alone 
 At that tremendous, never-ending task, 
 The saving of his soul, but faint of heart, 
 And nigh despairing sometimes, yet sustained 
 To feel how slowly, surely, day by day, 
 God's image ever grew within that soul, 
 And by my love that followed, sought him out, 
 On strange, mysterious, dim and awful paths, 
 And dwelled beside him, never seen nor heard, 
 Yet ever by some swift, unerring sense 
 Made known to him. 
 
 And thus there came at last 
 The happy day wherein I too was called, 
 When from me too there dropped away forever 
 The poor, worn raiments of mortality. 
 On a green bank, beside a gentle stream, 
 I first awoke again from that brief sleep 
 They call eternal there below, awoke 
 To find a loved, lost, unforgotten form 
 Kneeling beside me, bending over me, 
 To meet an eye radiant with infinite love, 
 His form, his face, his eye ! His, his, oh God, 
 Saved, purified, redeemed, made whole and new 
 By Thy deep miracle of Grace, surpassing,
 
 36 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Incomprehensible ! Oh Friend, Sweet Soul, 
 What need to say aught more, or strive to paint 
 The tearful storm of blinding ecstasy, 
 Wherewith we rushed into each other's arms, 
 Speechless, yet knowing all ! 
 
 My tale is told, 
 And those dark memories fade and flee behind 
 
 me, 
 Never, mayhap, to be called up again ! 
 
 Look thou, the golden flush of evening deepens 
 O'er hill and vale and stream, and see, ah see, 
 There from the lengthening shadows of the wood, 
 Come our dear Loves ! Mine with the stately 
 
 step, 
 
 And royal mien, and selfsame sunny smile, 
 That won me first ! Oh, I beseech thee, Friend, 
 Call me not foolish, nor yet smile in turn, 
 But to this hour I cannot always look 
 Without glad tears on that most noble form, 
 That now indeed but visibly shows forth 
 A soul divine as God has ever made ! 
 
 Ah, they perceive us now, and beckon to us, 
 Hastening their steps ! Oh come, Sweet Soul, 
 
 arise, 
 And let us go to meet them ! Love, my Love !
 
 A MAIDEN'S QUESTION. 
 
 O STRANGE love! if this be loving such as 
 
 bards have sung for aye, 
 Since the world their songs have gladdened, 
 
 sprang from darkness into day ! 
 
 Naught in all that world more grateful music 
 
 to my thirsting ear 
 
 Than his name and fame and praises loudly 
 echoed far and near ; 
 
 Naught in all the world more joyful tiding to 
 
 my waiting soul 
 Than to know him nigh who wanders like a 
 
 star from pole to pole. 
 
 Yet when satisfied my yearning, face to face 
 
 with him I stand, 
 
 See his sunny smile of welcome, feel the pres- 
 sure of his hand,
 
 38 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Then my steady eye unfaltering his clear glance 
 
 can rise to meet, 
 No swift flutter stirs my pulses, my still heart 
 
 no quickened beat. 
 
 No fine sense of heightened being, no deep 
 
 thrill of ecstasy, 
 No unutterable rapture, with his nearness comes 
 
 to me. 
 
 Only peace, a calm assurance, whence or how 
 
 I cannot tell, 
 Through his power of noble manhood all things 
 
 must be passing well. 
 
 All the currents flow harmonious in the world I 
 
 half forget, 
 Grown so brave I go unflinching even from him 
 
 without regret. 
 
 Yet when I have turned and left him, and his 
 
 form is lost to sight, 
 Oh, how fade from all about me, brightness, color, 
 
 life, and light!
 
 A MAIDEN'S QUESTION. 39 
 
 As when dies a strain of music on a sad, gray 
 
 evening shore, 
 Heaven and earth grow blank and dreary with 
 
 his presence seen no more ; 
 
 Till from out the dimness slowly gathering shape 
 
 and living hue, 
 His dear image, clear as morning, rises on my 
 
 inward view. 
 
 Steals from night the sleep I gladly offer up as 
 
 I retrace 
 Every look and tone, each fleeting light or 
 
 shadow on his face ; 
 
 Fills the day to overflowing with unspeakable 
 
 content, 
 Lets the hours seem rich that idly dreaming but 
 
 of him were spent ; 
 
 Gives all life a patient courage no dark power 
 
 shall now destroy, 
 For the thought of him has made me strong in 
 
 everlasting joy.
 
 40 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 So the year rolls round fulfilling my fond hope, 
 
 we meet once more, 
 And the peace, the sadness, gladness, steal upon 
 
 me as before. 
 
 O dear bards who sing of loving, or your- 
 selves, great gods above, 
 
 Solve unto my soul this riddle, help me, 
 tell me, is this love ?
 
 SURRENDER. 
 
 AWAY, heart-breaking struggle, vain control ! 
 
 Wholly, without reserve, resistlessly, 
 
 I yield for all eternity my soul, 
 
 Oh deathless current of my love, to thee ! 
 
 Whose throbbing waves about me swell and roll 
 
 Like the dark waters of a fretful sea, 
 
 Never, 'neath sun's glow, nor the stars' cold light, 
 
 Sleeping or resting, day or dawn or night ! 
 
 Yet oh, dear miracle ! what once most sore 
 And deadly conflict made me, such fierce fray, 
 That broken, breathless, bleeding at each pore, 
 I through its sullen fury scarce .my way 
 Clove to some shelter on the barren shore, 
 Now bears me in a gently rocking sway, 
 And laps me with soft ripples, that my breast 
 Play round about, with grateful sense of rest.
 
 42 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Oh blest surrender ! Passing sweet release 
 From aching toil, but thou abandonment 
 Couldst bring the storm-tossed soul, to whom 
 
 surcease 
 
 Of pain is joy ! Whereto thy course is bent, 
 I care not ! Bear me to despair or peace, 
 Life, death, or infinite bliss, I am content 
 To drift forever thus, wide heaven above, 
 On thy deep current, oh my deathless love !
 
 YEARNING. 
 
 I LAID my ear close to the cold, bare ground, 
 Where grow the sturdy oak and branching vine, 
 Listening if at their roots might not be found 
 A feeble stir, though in the air the fine 
 Sharp breath of winter lingered still. And ay, 
 Methought that deep, deep down, faint, far away 
 Even as the warble of a bird, so high 
 Lost in the stainless blue of dewy day 
 That eye may never follow it, I caught 
 A fluttering throb of new, sweet life set free 
 And soon to quicken swelling buds. Oh 
 
 thought 
 
 Of rapture and divinest ecstasy, 
 Oh blest, unfailing promise, that must bring 
 The light and lays and fragrant blossoming, 
 All nameless joys of golden, white-starred Spring ! 
 
 Oh could I thus upon thy great, warm heart, 
 Rich in the noblest pith of manhood's flower, 
 Where strength and tenderness have equal part,
 
 44 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Lay down my yearning head for one brief hour ! 
 And catch each faintest sound that upward 
 
 stole 
 
 With eager ear, and find if there below, 
 In the most secret pulses of thy soul, 
 Where the deep founts of life and being flow, 
 There stirs, mayhap, faint, dim, and far away 
 Even as the distant Spring's sweet ecstasy, 
 'Mid the chill breath of some dark winter-day, 
 A quickening thrill of answering love for me ! 
 Oh bliss unspeakable, undream ed, untold ! 
 I have no answer but the gushing tear, 
 To what in one sweet whisper would unfold 
 The blossomed wealth of all the rolling year, 
 Oh thou who by a breath transfiguring 
 All heaven and earth, my thirsting soul couldst 
 
 bring, 
 The deathless joys of everlasting Spring !
 
 A FLOWER OF HOPE. 
 
 SITTING that day before the ruddy fire, 
 
 He read what to my eager soul was sweet 
 
 As honey to the lips, and melody 
 
 To the charmed ear, praise of his noble art 
 
 And high achievements. For a little time 
 
 The deep, rich cadences rolled smooth and strong, 
 
 Like a broad river gentle in its power; 
 
 But suddenly the even, steadfast voice 
 
 Faltered and fell and ceased, and looking up, 
 
 I in mute, startled wonderment beheld 
 
 The clear eyes dim with overbrimming tears ! 
 
 Oh friend, dear friend, forgive the yearning soul, 
 That reaches out towards thine 
 With every fibre thrilling and aglow, 
 And yet could not divine 
 
 What in that sad, sweet hour stirred secretly, 
 The well-springs of thy heart !
 
 46 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Was it the coming hour when we must speak 
 A brief farewell and part ? 
 
 Or the dim consciousness that thou and I 
 Could never meet again 
 
 Giving the same frank clasp of hands wherewith 
 We met and parted then ? 
 
 Never again, while the mute lips of both 
 Must hold in silence sealed, 
 Untold, unbreathed, all that the braver eye 
 Had mayhap half revealed ? 
 
 Ah, who shall guess ? I only know that from 
 Those dear, dark tears of thine 
 Sprang a pale, tender, trembling flower of hope, 
 So frail and over-fine, 
 
 And yet so fragrant, that though one rude blast 
 
 Smote it with sudden death, 
 
 I dare not let the intoxicated sense 
 
 Drink in its full, sweet breath ; 
 
 I dare not tend, nor yet can let it fade 
 In rain or drought or sun,
 
 A FLOWER OF HOPE. 47 
 
 Lest as it drooped and died, my own poor soul 
 Were utterly undone ! 
 
 For through thy tears, oh friend, were in that 
 
 soul 
 
 The secret streams set free 
 
 Of all that deepest life which sets towards thine 
 Through all eternity !
 
 INSUFFICIENCY. 
 
 LIKE a harp where the Great Master set rich 
 
 chords both deep and strong, 
 That give forth heroic measures, kingly chant 
 
 and solemn song, 
 
 But some finer strings are missing, never set, or 
 it may be 
 
 Snapped in early days and tender, by some tem- 
 pest ruthlessly, 
 
 Is thy soul, oh my Beloved ! ever rendering 
 
 back to mine, 
 But a strange, harsh tune I know not, from those 
 
 chords more strong than fine. 
 
 Yet beloved still ! ay better, than if all were 
 
 well with thee, 
 Fonder, truer, oh my darling, for the need thou 
 
 hast of me !
 
 INSUFFICIENCY. 49 
 
 For thou need'st me, "thirstest for me, oh my 
 harp with missing strings, 
 
 As we thirst for cooling waters from Life's Ever- 
 lasting Springs! 
 
 Those deep chords thrill with a yearning, haply 
 
 to themselves unknown, 
 To respond in rarest music, to the sweetness of 
 
 my own. 
 
 Oh, and sometime when dim earth -life fades 
 
 from out our gladdened view, 
 The great Master Hand shall gently fashion thee, 
 
 dear harp, anew! 
 
 To my faithful hand committing that fair, per- 
 fect instrument, 
 
 Till our strings together chiming, in one raptu- 
 rous song are blent, 
 
 And thus blending, oh Beloved, make such heav- 
 enly harmony, 
 
 Chanting angel-choirs shall, pausing, joyful list 
 to thee and me !
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 i. 
 
 I CANNOT lose thee ! Though we dwelled apart 
 Leagues upon leagues of endless sea and shore, 
 Though through long years no message came that 
 
 bore 
 
 Of thee glad tidings, telling where thou art, 
 Still thy dumb absence could not bring a smart 
 To my brave soul, for from its inmost core 
 Springs the fine band that knits us evermore. 
 A hopeful patience, foreign to the heart 
 Wont to rush forward all too eagerly, 
 Goes with me day and night, a faith sublime 
 As deep as life, more strong than death or time, 
 Till what divides us now, the sky and sea 
 
 Themselves, seem to repeat the blest refrain, 
 So sure as God lives, we shall meet again !
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 I cannot lose thee ! Though between thy heart 
 And mine a legion of black phantoms lay, 
 Like a grim host of foes in war's array, 
 In vain the bristling lance or swift-winged dart, 
 To strike my dauntless soul a bleeding smart. 
 No earthly power my eagerness could stay 
 From cutting through ten thousand foes a way 
 That should unerring lead me where thou art, 
 Armed by the faith sublime that thou and I 
 Are knit by bands that time and death defy, 
 Invincible, as to my ear grows plain 
 What must ere long roll forth a loud refrain, 
 Swelling to heaven from joyous sea and shore, 
 So sure as God lives, we shall part no more !
 
 THE FACE OF GOD. 
 
 TO . 
 
 Lo ! from the deep of the fair, cloudless sky, 
 Where thy proud sun of fame 
 In undimmed noonday splendor blazed on high, 
 Close to the stars, there came 
 
 A swift-winged dart that pierced thy panoply, 
 And bade thee kiss the ground, 
 And brought a cloud whose shadow suddenly 
 Quenched all the brightness round. 
 
 Till rising on one knee with blinded sight, 
 Thou an imploring hand 
 
 Throw'st out, as if to stay the smarting night 
 Thou canst not understand. 
 
 And yet rejoice, my stricken King, as I 
 With all my soul rejoice,
 
 THE FACE OF GOD. 53 
 
 For in that shadow draws a Presence nigh 
 And sounds an awful Voice, 
 
 That we may not perceive, Beloved One, 
 When fair are sky and sod, 
 When all too dazzling shines the noonday sun 
 That hides the Face of God!
 
 A WELL OF SORROW. 
 
 AH, the memory of thy living and thy dying, dear 
 my friend, 
 
 Of thy manhood warped and broken, of the bit- 
 ter, hopeless end, 
 
 Is like some black well, one instant flashing in 
 
 the sun's glad light 
 'Neath a shower of golden sparkles, soon gone 
 
 out in gloomier night! 
 
 Like a well of sorrow, quenchless, never yet run 
 
 low or dry, 
 Where our thoughts like doves, though wheeling 
 
 with white wings against the sky 
 
 Fair with blue and warm with sunshine, still 
 
 drawn hither evermore, 
 Come to drink of grief like water, from that 
 
 deep, exhaustless store.
 
 A WELL OF SORROW. 55 
 
 Ay, so deep and dark and bitter, one small drop 
 
 shall have the power, 
 Even when tides of life run highest, in some 
 
 maddest, merriest hour, 
 
 Swift as death to wilt the roses twined about the 
 
 goblet's brim, 
 Hush the jest, the song, the laughter, make the 
 
 lustrous eye grow dim, 
 
 Send the chill of disenchantment to the sudden 
 
 sobered heart, 
 Fill it with a secret hunger, but to sit and weep 
 
 apart, 
 
 Weep while life endures and memory, tears wrung 
 
 from our souls like blood. 
 And yet, lo ! thus gazing downward far into 
 
 that troubled flood, 
 
 We behold with joyful wonder, that where shad- 
 ows thickest press, 
 
 There our love and grief and yearning, and the 
 infinite tenderness
 
 56 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Of the God of passing Mercy, on that fount's 
 
 black bosom shine, 
 Clearly mirrored, never shaken, radiant like sweet 
 
 stars divine I
 
 THROUGH THE MIDNIGHT SKY. 
 
 THROUGH the faint-gleaming midnight sky, 
 Deep beyond deep above, 
 My yearning soul soars up on high, 
 To seek thy soul, O Love ! 
 
 Thy soul to joy or sorrow bound, 
 Which dwells I know not where, 
 Only that it is folded round 
 By God's eternal care. 
 
 And that this hour He sets thee free, 
 Even from the furthest star 
 Through boundless space to come to me 
 Who wait thee, from afar. 
 
 And by the sudden touch of fire 
 That on my heart is laid, 
 Till with the strength of its desire 
 It trembles, half afraid,
 
 58 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 I know while swiftly draw more nigh, 
 The gleaming deeps above, 
 Our souls beneath the silent sky 
 Have met and kissed, O Love!
 
 GOD'S PEACE. 
 
 DEAD ! A great hope is dead 
 From whose fair eyes o'er all the years to come, 
 A starry light was shed ; 
 The smile forever fled, 
 The soft voice hushed, the lips grown white and 
 
 dumb, 
 Cold the warm hands that wove bright, fragrant 
 
 flowers, 
 
 Even through the thorns of day's most weary 
 hours ! 
 
 Oh heart, how desolate ! 
 
 Where the tear-blinded, helpless eye may turn, 
 Earth, sea and sky, so late 
 In all the royal state 
 Of Springtime's full-flushed splendors wont to 
 
 burn, 
 
 Sunk to gray ashes, now that beauteous head, 
 Strewed with dim dust, lies in its narrow bed!
 
 60 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 But, oh sweet marvel ! low 
 About the grave, 'mid blighting frost and rime 
 Still brave with purple glow, 
 Courage and patience grow; 
 And, green through Winter and through Summer 
 
 time, 
 
 Faith high, immortal stands, 
 With upward pointing hands, 
 A noble tree, through whose broad-spreading 
 
 crown 
 God's Peace, like golden sunshine, filters down.
 
 HYMN. 
 
 I THINK Thou lovest me, Lord, 
 
 For thy dear mercy all my pains hath cured, 
 Nay, granted me exceeding great reward 
 
 For .the sharp ills endured. 
 
 I think it by the joy 
 
 That fills my soul on this dark winter day, 
 The golden peace no grief shall now destroy, 
 
 No tempest blow away. 
 
 The thorns that pricked me sore 
 
 Turned in my hands to blossoms white and 
 
 sweet, 
 The flinty stones my pathway led me o'er, 
 
 Soft turf beneath my feet. 
 
 The cup of gall has grown 
 
 Oh, passing miracle ! to honeyed wine,
 
 62 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 And on my trembling lips the bitter moan, 
 Into a song divine. 
 
 I know Thou lovest me, Lord, 
 
 Yea, though these eyes wept tears of blood 
 
 awhile, 
 For I can look upon the cruel sword 
 
 That smote my heart, and smile.
 
 INTO THY HANDS. 
 
 INTO Thy Hands, my Father, I commit 
 All, all my spirit's care, 
 The sorest burden this dim life can bear, 
 The sweetest hope wherewith its paths are lit! 
 Into Thy Hands, that hold so closely knit 
 
 What our blind, aching heart 
 
 Calls joy or grief, we know them not apart! 
 Into the Hands whence leap 
 
 The hurling tempest, and the gentle breath 
 Kissing the babe to sleep, 
 
 The flaming bolt that smites with instant death 
 The giant oak, and the refreshing shower 
 Whose balmy drops make glad the tender flower. 
 
 What though, even as lent jewels passing bright, 
 
 That crowned me happy king 
 
 For one sweet revel of one night in spring, 
 I must surrender in the morning light,
 
 64 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 That cold and gray breaks on my tearful sight, 
 
 Youth, hope, and joy, and love, 
 
 And oh, all other gems, all price, above ! 
 The deathless certainty 
 
 Of the deep life beyond this pallid sun, 
 That golden shore and sea 
 
 Which to my youthful feet seemed wellnigh 
 
 won, 
 
 So fair, so close, so clear, methought I heard 
 The trees' soft whisper and faint song of bird. 
 
 What though this fair dream, too, fled long ago 
 
 And on my straining eyes 
 
 There break no more visions of mellow skies 
 'Neath which dear friends, called dead, move on 
 
 in low 
 Sweet converse, through wide, happy fields aglow 
 
 With heavenly flower and star, 
 
 What though, like some poor pilgrim who from 
 
 far 
 Sees, through a slender rift 
 
 In the dark rocks that hem his toilsome way, 
 The clouds an instant lift 
 
 From countries bathed in everlasting day, 
 I stand and stretch my yearning arms in vain 
 Toward the blest light, too swiftly lost again ?
 
 INTO THY HANDS. 6$ 
 
 Into Thy Hands, my Father, I commit 
 
 This dearest, last hope too, 
 
 Old as the world, and yet forever new, 
 The hope wherewith our dimmest paths are lit, 
 With life itself indissolubly knit! 
 
 That too is well, I know, 
 
 In Thy eternal keeping. Ah! and so 
 Let my poor soul dismiss 
 
 Each fear and doubt, hush every anxious cry, 
 Forget all thought save this, 
 
 Some time, oh, dream of joy that cannot 
 
 die! 
 
 In those beloved Hands, a priceless store, 
 All our lost jewels shall be found once more!
 
 SONNET. 
 
 APOLLO, Jupiter, Jehovah, God ! 
 
 What matter by what name we call on Thee, 
 
 Incomprehensible Divinity, 
 
 Unfathomed by us children of the clod 
 
 Now, as when man the first fair meadows trod, 
 
 Fresh from Thy hand ! Deeper than sea on sea, 
 
 Far off as heaven, vast as eternity, 
 
 Yet present in the grasses of the sod, 
 
 So we but worship something more sublime 
 
 Than our poor selves, give the too haughty soul 
 
 To something that outreaches earth and time, 
 
 And what sharp ills our fleeting lives control, 
 
 Endure in patience 'neath thy thorny rod, 
 
 Apollo, Jupiter, Jehovah, God !
 
 THE HERB FORGETFULNESS. 
 
 "Wo -wdchst das Kraut Vergessenheit ? " 
 
 "WHERE grows the herb Forgetfulness, 
 
 O Mother, dost thou know ? 
 On sun-scorched soil no foot may press, 
 Or 'mid eternal snow? 
 
 " In some still nook the tempests shun, 
 
 Or on the wind-swept plain ? 
 Lit by what pallid midnight sun, 
 Fed by what dew or rain, 
 
 " Springs the white flower from whose deep heart 
 
 A wondrous draught distilled, 
 Has power to soothe each throbbing smart, 
 Each yearning unfulfilled ; 
 
 " All tears to dry, all wounds make whole, 
 
 All founts of sorrow seal ; 
 The bitterest anguish of the soul, 
 Love's hopeless pangs to heal ?
 
 68 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 " O'er all the world I 'd wander round, 
 
 Through day and night as well, 
 To learn where that sweet balm be found. 
 O Mother, canst thou tell ? " 
 
 "Ay, child. The path is steep and slow, 
 
 Yet brave and patient feet 
 Will carry thee where thou may'st know 
 That blossom bitter-sweet. 
 
 "The herb that brings forgetfulness, 
 
 And makes all wounds grow whole, 
 And sends God's Peace to soothe and bless 
 The hopeless travailing soul, 
 
 "And has immortal power to still 
 
 The fiercest wind and tide, 
 Springs at the foot of that dark Hill 
 Where Christ was crucified."
 
 THY WILL BE DONE. 
 
 BLOW on, fierce tempest, blow ! 
 Pour down thy drenching rain, 
 Flash thy red lightning's glow 
 O'er trembling land and main, 
 I, but an humble lily of the field, 
 Resistless to thy swinging furies yield, 
 Let without pause or stay 
 All bonds and fetters burst, 
 Wild winds and torrents sway, 
 Wreak on my head their worst ! 
 
 What though they snap and drown 
 
 Blossom and branch and root, 
 
 Wither and blast far down 
 
 Fair bud and tender shoot, 
 
 From my crushed, broken heart may still rise up, 
 
 Like incense from a shivered golden cup, 
 
 A last faint breath to Heaven. 
 
 Left without star or sun, 
 
 He took what He had given, 
 
 Thy will, my God, be done !
 
 MY FATHER'S CHILD. 
 
 Though ye do no wonderful deeds and accomplish no great sacri- 
 fices, it shall be sufficient unto you, to have worshipped the Lord 
 with your whole heart and strength. 
 
 ABOUT her head or floating feet 
 
 No halo's starry gleam, 
 Still dark and swift uprising, like 
 
 A bubble in a stream, 
 
 A soul from whose rejoicing heart 
 The bonds of earth were riven, 
 
 Sped upward through the silent night 
 To the closed Gates of Heaven. 
 
 And waiting heard a voice " Who comes 
 
 To claim Eternity? 
 Hero or saint that bled and died 
 
 Mankind to save and free ? " 
 
 She bent her head. The voice once more 
 " Didst thou then toil and live
 
 MY FATHER'S CHILD. 71 
 
 For home and children to thy Love 
 Last breath and heart's-blood give ? " 
 
 Her head sank lower still, she clasped 
 
 Her hands upon her breast 
 " Oh, no ! " she whispered, " my dim life 
 Has never been so blest! 
 
 " I trod a lonely, barren path, 
 
 And neither great nor good, 
 Gained not a hero's palm, nor won 
 The crown of motherhood! 
 
 " Oh, I was naught ! " Yet suddenly 
 The white lips faintly smiled 
 
 " Save, oh, methinks I was mayhap 
 My Heavenly Father's Child ! " 
 
 A flash of light, a cry of joy, 
 
 And with uplifted eyes 
 The soul through gates rolled open wide. 
 
 Passed into Paradise.
 
 AFTER YEARS. 
 
 " For what is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and 
 yet lose his own soul ? ST. MATTHEW. 
 
 BE thine, thy wife ? Forever bound to thee 
 In that most awful, closest bond, where blend 
 Soul, body, heart, and spirit, called to be 
 One flesh, one life ? Impossible ! Oh, friend, 
 Forgive me, but I cannot, must not now ! 
 Not now accept what once with ecstasy 
 Unspeakable had thrilled me, made the brow 
 Whereon thy touch left some sweet majesty 
 Prouder than any queen's ! 
 
 And dost thou say 
 
 I love thee not, and never loved thee ? Nay, 
 God knows 'tis not well said, thou dost me 
 
 wrong ! 
 
 Knows how I lavishly poured at thy feet 
 The richest blood wherewith my heart was 
 
 strong 
 Because I called it thine ! With what complete,
 
 AFTER YEARS. 73 
 
 Undoubting, patient, hopeful constancy 
 
 I clung to thee, how fondly and how long, 
 
 Until that fondness seemed to sap and drain 
 
 All life itself within me, and I fain 
 
 Had cried for truce and mercy. They have come, 
 
 The peace and rest I craved ! It is too late, 
 
 All voices pleading for thee once are dumb, 
 
 Voices whose sweetest music scarce could sate 
 
 The heart so deeply thirsting. The fair rose 
 
 That only once in full-flushed glory blows, 
 
 Has blown and withered, blasted past restore, 
 
 The God who smites and heals, or call it fate, 
 
 Dark destiny that vainly we deplore, 
 
 Has parted us forever! 
 
 And wherefore 
 Too late, thou ask'st ? (Nay, but I will not 
 
 pause, 
 
 I must push on even to the harshest end, 
 And thou, I think, wilt pardon me !) Because 
 I see too clearly now ! And oh, my friend, 
 God, God knows, too, at what uncounted cost 
 Of buried hopes, and faith forever lost, 
 That dear-bought clearness came ! What floods 
 
 of tears 
 Washed these poor eyes, too long and fondly 
 
 blind,
 
 74 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Ere they had such sharp vision, but to find 
 
 The light of truth, slow-breaking after years, 
 
 Even then smote with intolerable sting 
 
 The aching sight. God is my judge for aye, 
 
 (I cannot even yet, remembering, 
 
 Speak calmly of it all ! Pardon, I pray, 
 
 The husky voice, and this quick, broken breath !) 
 
 How I hung back and wavered ere I took, 
 
 With parched and fevered lips, and hands that 
 
 shook, 
 
 Took, broke and tasted, finding that it burned 
 More fiercely bitter than the pang of death, 
 That fruit with ashes filled, which yet I learned 
 To eat at last even as my daily bread, 
 The fruit of the conviction too long spurned, 
 That we, that thou and I, could never wed, 
 Because (God ! had I never lived to see !) 
 My heart has finer fibres than thy own ! 
 (The word is uttered now that falls on me, 
 And oh, I sadly fear, on me alone, 
 Like a sharp, smarting blow !) So much more 
 
 fine, 
 That thy poor heart has frayed and wounded 
 
 mine 
 
 A thousand times, and never guessed nor known 
 How often bruised and bleeding mine forgave,
 
 AFTER YEARS. 75 
 
 So much more fine (oh let me still be brave !) 
 I may speak this which makes my spirit groan, 
 And never touch thee to the quick ! 
 
 Most true, 
 
 Christ did not thus ! He never walked apart 
 From those who had most need of him, and 
 
 drew 
 
 His white robes close about his life-warm heart, 
 Crying, " Nay, friend, I am too good for thee ! " 
 But Christ was Christ, and his humanity 
 Wrought of such subtlest essence past compare, 
 That through it knit to God insolubly, 
 Men not unjustly call him the divine. 
 And Christ was never wed, not thus would 
 
 share 
 
 And mingle in the lot of those he gave 
 His priceless blood, but not his soul, to save ! 
 I am but made of common clay, and mine 
 Is but a woman's heart, though now set free, 
 How should I venture that which even he 
 Dared not attempt ! 
 
 And hast thou lost me then ? 
 No, as I live, friend, no ! Oh thou wast planned 
 Nobler than one in twenty thousand men ! 
 Thou hast not lost me, pray thee take my 
 
 hand,
 
 76 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 (Ah, thank thee for that strong warm clasp of 
 
 thine !) 
 
 Most nobly planned, but God's supreme design 
 Was sadly blurred and twisted, wrenched away 
 From His grand primal purpose ; how and why 
 Let us not question ! Yet for all and all 
 Thou canst not lose what must beyond recall 
 Through chance and change and storms be thine 
 
 for aye, 
 
 The fond and faithful love that cannot die ! 
 For I do love thee still, though may not give 
 What thou would'st ask in answer to thine own, 
 Whose barren blossoms now, too late, have 
 
 blown, 
 
 Thy love, that once I thought I could not live 
 Unless I won ! I love thee still, O friend, 
 But dare not yield thee that which God to me 
 Granted a sacred trust, eternally 
 Held dear as heaven itself, which in the end 
 I must surrender back to his control 
 Flawless and stainless, my immortal soul !
 
 HOPE. 
 
 HOPE fluttered for an instant at my door, 
 
 Like some blithe bird from sunny Southern shore, 
 
 For one brief moment perched upon my sill, 
 With many a warble and soft, joyous trill ; 
 
 But yet, ere I could ope, and bid him stay, 
 He spread his shining wings and soared away 
 
 Into the golden skies far out of sight, 
 
 Where eye may follow not his boundless flight.
 
 CUPID. 
 
 "WHAT stranger comes so late with timid tap- 
 ping, 
 
 To knock upon my door ? 
 How, is it love ? Surely I had not fancied 
 
 To ever see him more ! 
 
 "Nay, but my pretty, rosy, smiling cherub, 
 
 Who now dost slyly stand, 
 To thy arch lips pressing one chubby finger, 
 
 The other dimpled hand 
 
 " Holding thy cunning bow, while o'er thy shoulder 
 
 The painted quiver peeps, 
 
 Whose wicked darts many a poor heart shall 
 startle 
 
 That now securely sleeps. 
 
 "From dancing curls and eyes with laughter 
 
 brimming 
 Down to the twinkling feet,
 
 CUPID. 79 
 
 The sunlight bathing thee in golden glory, 
 I pray thee hence, my sweet! 
 
 " Believe me, here can be for thee no dwelling ; 
 
 I conjure thee, away ! 
 The chambers of my house are dark and silent, 
 
 'T is many a long, chill day 
 
 "Since they were thrown wide open with glad 
 
 welcome 
 
 To such a guest as thee ! " 
 So cried the maid. But he nor heard nor 
 
 heeded, 
 But more impatiently 
 
 Knocked ever loud and louder, frowned and 
 
 pouted, 
 
 And, full of wrath at last, 
 Burst through the bolts and bars that, I much 
 
 fear me, 
 Were none too well made fast! 
 
 And now it seemed, grown to a very giant, 
 Strode through both court and hall, 
 
 With steps that made the silent chambers echo, 
 And tremble every wall.
 
 8O BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 And now seized a swift torch and suddenly 
 
 Kindled the timbers dry 
 
 With a great flame that crackling, roaring, blaz- 
 ing, 
 
 Flared upward to the sky. 
 
 Then sped away ere he could singe his winglets, 
 
 And turning back to see 
 
 What mischief he had wrought, laughed long and 
 loudly, 
 
 Clapping his hands with glee.
 
 YOUNG LOVE. 
 
 O WHAT a loss is here, past all repair, 
 
 Though thousand years of sunshine were mine 
 
 own, 
 Ne'er to have known young love when life was 
 
 fair, 
 In the first flush of morn that long has flown ! 
 
 What though his hands heaped high with gems, 
 he yet 
 
 Should come to me in fullness of his powers, 
 Could all their lustre make my soul forget 
 
 The dewy freshness of those early flowers ? 
 
 The fragrance fine that from his garment streams, 
 The passing sweetness in those blossoms 
 
 found ? 
 His noble brow whereon a fillet gleams, 
 
 The youthful god with simple garlands 
 crowned ?
 
 82 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 O never, never ! Thirst for aye unstilled 
 Through all eternity ! For e'en the wide 
 
 Rich heavens, were all their promises fulfilled, 
 Could never grant the boon that earth denied !
 
 HIS WILL, NOT MINE. 
 
 " The love of all 
 Is but a small thing to the love of one ! " 
 
 MRS. BROWNING. 
 
 O FOND glad dream of brighter, bygone days, 
 
 Too often dreamed of yore, 
 That sometime mayhap all these idle lays 
 
 Were hushed, and heard no more ! 
 
 Sometime this fever of unrest might cease, 
 
 That goads my weary soul 
 Forever on without or pause or peace, 
 
 To an immortal goal. 
 
 That sometime merged in thine, O Love, and 
 lost 
 
 As brooks with streams are blent, 
 Might find at last my spirit, tempest-tossed, 
 
 Unspeakable content ! 
 
 That dwelling close to thy immortal heart, 
 Should surely prove to be
 
 84 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Grown of its deeper life a slender part 
 Greatness enough for me. 
 
 Yet God's dear mercy did not thus ordain, 
 
 But bid the poor, frail vine, 
 That stretched its yearning tendrils out in vain 
 
 Round the strong stem to twine, 
 
 Itself to harden to a tree, and bide 
 
 All the fierce storms He sent, 
 The brooklet with the noble river's tide 
 
 Forevermore unblent, 
 
 Its waters widening, deepening as they passed, 
 
 Itself a stream to flow, 
 Bid that my being should itself at last 
 
 To feeble greatness grow. 
 
 And so these lays sound on till with their strain 
 
 A thousand homes are filled, 
 While I, a wandering bird, have sought in vain 
 
 My own bright nest to build. 
 
 How may from thirst the parching lips be saved, 
 
 But slowly gathering up, 
 In scanty drops, the draught of life they craved 
 
 In one o'erbrimming cup !
 
 HIS WILL, NOT MINE. 85 
 
 The wide world's praises, O what bitter bliss, 
 
 To the great love of one, 
 And oh, God knows, God knows that in all this, 
 
 His will, not mine, was done!
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 I TOO have hoped and dared ! My heart throbbed 
 
 high 
 
 When once at dewy morn I took my place 
 Among the youths who to the rose-flushed sky 
 Smiling above, lifted such radiant face 
 It seemed Jove's darkest thunders to defy. 
 But all have far outstripped me in the race, 
 Left me with aching feet and weary soul, 
 To reach as best I might the fading goal. 
 
 I too have toiled and striven ! With patient 
 
 hand 
 
 Guided the laboring plow, that drew its slow, 
 Deep furrows in the earth, tilled all my land, 
 Scattered good seed, watered and watched it 
 
 grow, 
 
 The barns of hundred others bursting stand 
 With their rich harvests' golden overflow, 
 While I scarce glean toil's scant and mournful 
 
 meed, 
 The few poor grains sufficient for my need !
 
 SHIPWRECKED. 87 
 
 I too have loved and sung ! A lay may be, 
 As sweet and strong, as tender, deep, and fair 
 As aught the world to-day hears eagerly, 
 Yet the light songs of others everywhere, 
 Are joyful echoed over land and sea, 
 While mine die vainly on the empty air, 
 I, a lone nightingale in some dark glade, 
 Suffer and sing and perish in the shade ! 
 
 Fame, fortune, love, and love's dear joys, all, all 
 A barren hope, a shivered dream, no more ! 
 Dead as the heavy leaves that withered fall 
 When from gray skies the rains of autumn pour, 
 Whose poor, spent life no spring-tide shall re- 
 call, 
 
 Shipwrecked the bark that bravely left the shore. 
 All lost at sea, far from the vanished goal, 
 Save only God, and my immortal soul!
 
 LOVE HAS DECEIVED ME. 
 
 LOVE has deceived me ! With a strange, sweet 
 
 smile, 
 
 He took from out my yielding hand the oar 
 Wherewith I thought to guide for many a mile 
 My bark through sunlit waters close to 
 
 shore. 
 
 " Come, I will speed thee to the Blessed Isle ! " 
 He said, and smiled again, but spoke no 
 
 more, 
 
 And suddenly I found me far from land, 
 Aground upon a bank of barren sand ! 
 
 And yet he came again, and charmed from me 
 The sword wherewith through rugged rocks I 
 
 thought 
 To carve a path to some high destiny, 
 
 The deathless goal that long my soul had sought. 
 41 Come," said he gently, " come, and thou shalt 
 
 see 
 Beside my joys all others sink to naught ! "
 
 LOVE HAS DECEIVED ME. 89 
 
 And, blindly following, suddenly I stood 
 Forsaken in a dark, entangled wood! 
 
 Then he stole on me like a thief at night, 
 And seized the shuttle from my clinging hold, 
 
 Wherewith I wove a cloth perchance not bright. 
 Yet strong and fine. "I '11 make a woof with 
 gold 
 
 And purple shot," he said, and in my sight 
 Charmed forth what seemed rich fabrics, fold 
 on fold, 
 
 Till I perceived he spun with cunning care 
 
 A glittering nothing of the empty air. 
 
 Love has undone me ! Oh, how should I meet 
 Tempests and foes with pride and strength 
 laid low 
 
 And arms all shivered ? And, oh, worst defeat, 
 Sum of all ills the stricken heart may know, 
 
 The secret sense that naught is half so sweet 
 As his soft voice who is my deadliest foe, 
 
 Naught half so beauteous 'neath the sun to see 
 
 As his fair eyes, all traitors though they be 1
 
 MARIANA. 
 
 " ' He cometh not ! ' she said." 
 
 HE never came whose step and loving call 
 
 I waited long to hear, 
 But thou hast come, last Messenger of all, 
 
 A friend wellnigh as dear ! 
 
 Peace if not joy ! yet peace itself were gain, 
 
 That must supremely bless 
 The soul sore travailed, that in vain, in vain 
 
 Hungered for happiness ! 
 
 Draw closer, oh thou voiceless Guest and pale, 
 Whose drooping torch burns low : 
 
 Thy face is hid, but through the sombre veil 
 Thine eyes' dark light I know ! 
 
 Nay, closer still ! I yearn on brow and heart 
 Thy cool, strong hand to feel ;
 
 MARIANA. QI 
 
 Fevered with wounds, and throbbing with a 
 
 smart 
 Thy touch alone can heal. 
 
 I go with joy ! Lead me to him at last, 
 
 How dim the path and lone 
 Him, whose far footsteps, echoing through the 
 past, 
 
 Have never met mine own.
 
 THE SILENT HOUSE. 
 
 IT all was over, and the house was still. 
 The hearse had rolled away, the friends were 
 
 gone, 
 Their vacant seats looked blank and desolate. 
 
 The muffled mirror hung against the wall, 
 The spot was empty where the bier had stood 
 Whereon he lay with mute and smiling lips. 
 
 And naught remained of him who once had 
 
 been 
 
 The light of soul, the staff of life to me, 
 Naught but the cross, that had been left behind, 
 Of odorless, white flowers, so dead, so dead. 
 And nothing now remained but I alone, 
 Alone to live the long, long, joyless days. 
 And so with weary feet I climbed the stair, 
 Up to the room where he was wont to sit. 
 
 The silent books upon their long-rowed shelves, 
 The fair, white marbles in their quiet niche, 
 Beside his pen, a bunch of withered flowers,
 
 THE SILENT HOUSE. 93 
 
 The ivy twining round the window frame, 
 
 The noiseless floor where oft his feet had trod, 
 
 The motes of dust that danced within the 
 
 light, 
 
 All was so dead, so dead ; and nothing stirred 
 Save at the pane an idly buzzing fly, 
 And in his cage the blithe canary-bird, 
 That hopped and pecked, and wondering looked 
 
 at me. 
 
 The golden flecks of sunset on the wall 
 Moved high and higher till they touched his 
 
 cage 
 
 With purple light, the little bird burst forth 
 In loud, rejoicing song, and I in tears. 
 
 The morning sun was in the room, I woke, 
 I knew it was a dream, I knew my life , 
 Was heavier than the burden of my dream, 
 
 I had not won, I had not loved nor lost.
 
 SONG. 
 
 OH, does my love love thee, great Queen, 
 
 Upon thy lofty throne, 
 Where shine, more bright than sunset clouds, 
 
 Red gold and ruby stone? 
 Did he fold thee in his strong arms 
 
 Close to his brave, warm heart, 
 And whisper words more sweet than life? 
 
 Ah God, how poor thou art ! 
 
 Me, me he chose, the lowly one, 
 
 From all the glittering train 
 That caught the sunshine of his smile, 
 
 But sought his soul in vain ! 
 Oh, though thy empire were the world, 
 
 All earth and sea and sky, 
 Poor Queen, my heart would bleed for thee, 
 
 So rich, ah God, am I !
 
 LOVE ME. 
 
 LOVE me as thou may'st love the silvery light 
 Of some far, shimmering moonbeam faint and 
 
 small, 
 That glides across thy foot on summer night, 
 
 O love, but do not love me not at all ! 
 
 Love me as thou didst love, a little child, 
 The grasses on the meadow high and tall, 
 Or blossoms in the forest, sweet and wild, 
 O love, but do not love me not at all ! 
 
 Love me as some faint music far away, 
 That pleasantly upon thy ear may fall, 
 At stilly eve of some long, weary day, 
 
 O love, but do not love me not at all! 
 
 Love me as the swift shadow of the feet 
 Of her who should have been thy all in all, 
 As she some other loved one flew to meet, 
 
 O love, but do not love me not at all!
 
 SORROW. 
 
 SORROW, my brave companion true and tried, 
 My earliest, latest, and most constant friend, 
 
 My childhood's playmate, and my youth's stern 
 
 guide, 
 Who wilt not part till day is at an end 
 
 t)o I again so close to me behold 
 
 Thy rugged brow, not young yet never old? 
 
 Joy, love, and hope were left behind us long, 
 Too frail, they drooped upon the sun-scorched 
 way, 
 
 Or perished in the storm ; but thou art strong : 
 Tempest, nor cloud, nor thirst, nor heat of day 
 
 Wearies thy patience ; morn and eventide, 
 
 Steadfast and faithful, found thee at my side. 
 
 If for an hour sometimes I missed thy face, 
 And hastening forward climbed a sunlit height,
 
 SORROW. 97 
 
 Where my glad soul enraptured would embrace 
 The fair, sweet world, grown wide with new 
 
 delight, 
 
 Thy touch upon my heart quenched suddenly 
 The golden splendors of the earth and sea. 
 
 And yet I thank thee, messenger of God ! 
 
 For thou shalt ease, when day is at an end, 
 That last dim path that must by all be trod, 
 
 Blind, mute, alone, without a single friend, 
 Where e'en thy feet must pause, thy service done, 
 
 Oh my brave comrade, thou most faithful one ! 
 Close to the Gates that shut from thy grave eyes 
 The Land beyond with its unclouded skies!
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " O, YES ! " the throng of eager listeners cried, 
 And gathered close the gray, old Bard beside. 
 
 " Come tell us some good tale ! " "A tale," said 
 
 he, 
 And sadly smiled. " A tale you ask of me ! 
 
 "But, friends, I fear me I have none to tell 
 That when you hear shall please you over-well. 
 
 " But as you will ! A noble Prince one day 
 Awoke in a strange country, far away 
 
 " From his dear native land : what stern decree 
 To these rude shores exiled him suddenly 
 
 " He knew not, nor on what fair star had been 
 That first bright home his happy eyes had seen ;
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 99 
 
 " But dimly, like a half-remembered dream, 
 Its tufted palms and golden waters' gleam 
 
 " Came back upon his yearning soul, that here 
 Found earth and sea and sky but chill and 
 drear. 
 
 "And all that now recalled to him the great 
 Forgotten splendors of his royal state, 
 
 " Was a wide flask of rarest, precious wine, 
 Clear as the sun, deep as the ruby's shine, 
 
 " And a gemmed cup, fashioned with curious art. 
 Yet strong in vigorous youth and brave of heart, 
 
 " Bearing his sole possessions in his hand, 
 He wandered through the world, o'er sea and , 
 land, 
 
 "Unknown of all, simple in garb and glance 
 Like those he walked among, save that per- 
 chance 
 
 "A silent majesty upon his brow, 
 
 That wore the shadow of a crown e'en now,
 
 IOO BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 "Marked him the scion of a kingly race. 
 
 And where in town or wood or field, what place 
 
 " He came on men, he lavishly held up 
 And filled with his gold wine the o'er-brimming 
 cup, 
 
 "And pledged them all and bid them joyfully 
 ' Bring out your best, e'en as I give to ye ! ' 
 
 " They drank to him in turn, swift to obey 
 The summons, kind enough in their sad way, 
 
 " But in the Prince's heart e'er lived the thought, 
 ' Great God, how poor they are ! ' seeing they 
 brought 
 
 "But shallow goblets made of brittle glass, 
 Or cups of common metal, tin and brass ; 
 
 " And when he tasted of their proffered draught, 
 He found 'twas pale, flat water that he quaffed, 
 
 "While they, his wine scarce touched with lips, 
 
 cut wry 
 Strange faces, and would shake their heads, and 
 
 hie
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. IQI 
 
 " To hand it back to him, or, turning round, 
 Empty it slyly out upon the ground. 
 
 "He wandered thus for many a day and year, 
 Not joyful as at first, nor full of cheer, 
 
 "Yet ever by undying hope led on, 
 Through gathering twilight and gray, starless 
 dawn ; 
 
 " But evermore deceived by all the throng 
 That crossed his path; and though his life was 
 long, 
 
 " Even when his hair turned white, his eye grew dim, 
 Measure for measure none had given to him ! " 
 
 " Well, and what -then ? The end ? " his hearers 
 
 said, 
 As now the old bard paused and bent his head. 
 
 Another smile, and sadder than before, 
 Passed o'er his lips : " Good friends, I know no 
 more ! 
 
 "What was the Prince's end I cannot say, 
 Save that perchance, late on a wintry day,
 
 IO2 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 " His empty flask beside him, he was found 
 Dead by the roadside on the barren ground." 
 
 " Oh, but who was he, pray ? " they asked again. 
 " Give us his name ! And who those other men ? " 
 
 But now his eye lit up with sudden scorn 
 As he cried out, " See here the kingly born ! 
 
 "And look around upon yourselves to find 
 Those villagers of shallow heart and mind ! " 
 
 And rising, turned his back on them, while they 
 Gazed after him in open-mouthed dismay.
 
 THE STROLLING PLAYER. 
 
 " The man, becoming troubled in his mind, traveled East and 
 West through the country for some time, in the vain hope of obtain- 
 ing an engagement, and one morning was found dead in his bed." 
 Chronicles of the Stage. 
 
 " WELL, I have come ! " he cried and gazed 
 
 Upon the empty air; 
 "You wished me here to show my art, 
 
 I am a strolling player! 
 
 "I can draw tears and laughter both, 
 And speak immortal rhymes, 
 Who wants me here ? " he cried again, 
 
 " You Ve heard me thousand times ! " 
 
 But empty air alone replied ; 
 The world, grown dumb and blind, 
 In pity weeping, turns its head 
 From the poor, wandering mind.
 
 IO4 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 So passing from closed door to door, 
 He strikes his weary brow, 
 And stands bewildered still at last, 
 " Strange, no one wants me now!" 
 
 Then suddenly rings a joyful shout, 
 " Welcome, dear strolling player ! " 
 And on his troubled eye bursts forth 
 A scene surpassing fair. 
 
 Round him a dome, vast, filled with light, 
 And rising tier on tier, 
 Illustrious spirits there convened, 
 To see his art and hear. 
 
 He moves and smiles and would unfold 
 His noblest, tenderest page, 
 And suddenly knows he has been called 
 To an Immortal Stage !
 
 THE OLD POET'S REST. 
 
 LIE fallow for awhile, my brave old brain, 
 
 Who long hast served me, and most faithfully, 
 
 In sketch and story, song and tragedy, 
 
 With toil ofttimes, and bitter pangs and pain, 
 
 Yet not so well for all that I could gain 
 
 Even from the finest flower that sprang from 
 
 thee, 
 
 Honey to spread my loaf ! Now happily 
 Lie fallow till the dew and wind and rain 
 Bring thee new strength, and generous Me the 
 
 sun, 
 
 And if I live, I '11 sometime glean from there 
 A richer math, please God, than yet was won; 
 And if I die, still will I not despair, 
 For shall not all eternity be mine 
 Wherein to sing a thousand songs divine ?
 
 DESIRE. 
 
 WOULD that love's sun were set, 
 With it the thrill of pain, 
 Would it were set to rise 
 Never again 1 
 
 Never again to fling 
 Glory o'er land and sea, 
 Left me in starless night, 
 Wretched and free!
 
 TRUST ME NOT, LOVE. 
 
 TRUST me not, love ; I am but fickle, fickle ! 
 Too easily turns my soul's swift-changing hue; 
 I cannot long be constant, kind or true! 
 
 Tender or proud and cold, 
 
 Fiery and young or old, 
 
 Filled or with hopes or fears, 
 
 Laughter or bitter tears, 
 My heart is tossed by every passing breeze ! 
 
 Now, at high noon, I love the crimson rose, 
 But ah, alas ! who knows, 
 If ere the starry night please me not best 
 The golden-hearted lily's pallid crest! 
 
 This hour I 'd joyful lay me down to die 
 For a dark lustrous eye ; 
 
 The next may all my heart be stormed and won 
 By some blue violet hiding from the sun.
 
 IO8 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 To-day I treasure high proud liberty, 
 To-morrow I may be 
 The willing vassal of some mighty king, 
 Holding his glory dear o'er everything. 
 
 Ah ! now I love thee with consuming fire, 
 Now, in the dewy morning's early ray, 
 But who may tell if not ere close of day, 
 
 Before another morn, 
 
 Hot vows be pledged and sworn, 
 
 Eternal faith, my sweet, 
 
 At other, dearer feet ? 
 Trust me not, love ; I am but fickle, fickle !
 
 THY HEART IS LIKE THE SUN. 
 
 THY heart is like the sun within the sky, 
 That makes the whole world bright, 
 And as thou beam'st on all from there on high, 
 So I receive thy light. 
 
 Why should I mourn, that like unto the rest 
 Thou also giv'st to me ? 
 And yet I weep to think that I am blest, 
 Like all humanity !
 
 WHERE HAST THOU GONE, O MY SOUL? 
 
 WHERE hast thou gone, O my soul, 
 Suddenly vanished and flown 
 Into dim regions unknown ? 
 Hast thou delved down into the earth's dark 
 core, 
 
 Or floated up into the wintry air, 
 Or plunged into mid-ocean far from shore, 
 And to return no more ? 
 
 Or dost thou follow on in dumb despair 
 The shadow of his feet through night and morn, 
 Who has no heed of thee, O soul forlorn? 
 
 Where hast thou gone, O my soul, 
 
 Secretly stealing away 
 
 From this poor prison of clay ? 
 
 That cold and dumb it stands since thy swift 
 
 flight 
 Like a bleak house whose cheery sounds are 
 
 still,
 
 WHERE HAST THOU GONE ? HI 
 
 Its windows dark, its hearth no longer bright, 
 That what was once delight, 
 
 The voice 'neath which my heart was wont to 
 
 thrill 
 
 E'en as the wind-harp in the breeze's breath, 
 Moves it no more from this strange living death ? 
 
 Wherever thou dwellest, O my soul, 
 
 In what dim regions unknown, 
 
 Thou may'st be wandering alone, 
 
 Come back to me from earth, or air, or sea, 
 
 O truant soul, without whose quickening fire, 
 
 Grief has no sting, and joy no ecstasy, 
 
 And phantoms equally 
 
 Are hope content and unfulfilled desire ; 
 Nor death itself were bitter nor life sweet, 
 E'en in the very shadow of his feet, 
 Whom thou must follow, follow night and morn, 
 Though he may heed thee not, O soul forlorn!
 
 SONNET. 
 
 OH sad, sweet, pallid ghost, if ghost thou art, 
 Whose voiceless presence still stands at my door, 
 And casts a shadow o'er the sunlit floor, 
 And will not be denied, but claims a part 
 In every joy or pang, through the loud mart 
 Or to the silence where my soul would pour 
 To God its yearnings, following evermore, 
 I cannot banish thee ! this shaken heart 
 Can find no spell wherewith to exorcise 
 Thy awful power ! the light in other eyes, 
 Though love smiled there, grows dim and cold ; 
 
 I see 
 
 Thine own beyond, fixed on me duskily, 
 And turn to thee, undone by hopeless strife, 
 Oh sad, sweet ghost, more living than all life !
 
 OH, BAR THY GATES! 
 
 "On, bar thy gates, my heart, make fast 
 
 Window and port and door, 
 Lest thy first foes, returned at last, 
 
 Should enter here once more ! 
 The Joy and Grief were wont of old 
 Their revels in thy courts to hold ; 
 
 Through every arch in state 
 Throng a gay conquering host, 
 Or like a voiceless ghost 
 
 At hour of midnight late, 
 Steal to the castle stealthily, and leave 
 
 Its splendors desolate ! " 
 
 " The gates are fast ! The bitter tide 
 
 Of tears that without stay 
 Once poured its streams here deep and wide, 
 
 Has forced them shut for aye, 
 The bolts and bars are gnawed by rust, 
 The silent courtyard 's dim with dust !
 
 114 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Yet round them grasses spring, 
 And on the ramparts high, 
 Beneath a cloudless sky, 
 
 Some pallid blossoms swing, 
 And now and then a bird, in its glad course, 
 
 Pauses an hour to sing ! "
 
 ROME. 
 
 HEART of the world ! that like a newborn star 
 Gleams on the bosom of the world grown old, 
 And like a deathless flower, unending far 
 Breathes subtle perfume from a cup of gold, 
 Heart of the world, through whose pulsations 
 
 flow 
 
 Beauty's eternal streams through every land, 
 Whose quickening throbs first kindled into glow 
 The fires of freedom, that no cursed hand 
 Could wholly quench again, who wearest for 
 
 aye 
 
 The sign of empire on thy royal brow, 
 Beyond the power of kings to wrest away, 
 What could the craving spirit ask, that thou 
 From out thy boundless treasures couldst not 
 
 give, 
 
 And how may I dwell far from thee and live ! 
 From youth's first dawn through oh how many 
 
 a year
 
 Il6 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Have I not loved thee with undying love, 
 Have I not yearned to lay my eager ear 
 Where I might catch around me and above 
 The music of thy deep, majestic beat, 
 Heart of the world ! How oft in dreams divine 
 Dreamed I should haste to thee with flying feet, 
 To fall with joy ineffable at thine, 
 While bending o'er me with a gracious smile 
 Thou lovingly shouldst raise and fold me round 
 With thy strong arms, and shouldst my soul be- 
 guile 
 
 Into belief, forgetfulness were found 
 For all its pangs, for one brief hour to know 
 The wounds no more, life struck it long ago. 
 
 For thou too lovest me ! Oh, have I not heard, 
 
 In starry nights across the windy sea, 
 
 Thy voice that called to me, the whispered 
 
 word 
 
 That softly wooed and promised lavishly 
 Delights unto the spirit tempest-tossed, 
 Fair as the magic visions wont to shine 
 Surpassing bright in childhood's days long lost. 
 And still I have not come, and still o'er thine 
 Eternal hills the sunset's purple gold 
 Flames as it flamed and died for thousand years,
 
 ROME, II/ 
 
 Unseen by me, whose straining eyes behold 
 Thine image scarce afar through blinding tears ; 
 Far from thy love a fetter bars me still, 
 Rigid as God's unalterable Will. 
 
 How may with aims immortal still be strong 
 The fainting soul consumed in vain desire, 
 Heart of the world, for thee ! how with great 
 
 song, 
 
 That might leap forth like living, sacred fire, 
 The parching lips o'erflow, not given by God 
 For all the trembling prayers they send on high, 
 To slake their thirst at thy rich, purple flood, 
 That I would drain to fill and satisfy 
 These barren veins, wherein, too well I know, 
 The sap and strength of youth are withering fast, 
 The fuller tides of being ebbing low. 
 Heart of the world! mine own must break at 
 
 last, 
 
 If from thy breath new power I may not gain 
 To bear life's burden and to sing its pain !
 
 SUNDAY. 
 
 OH blessed day ! that like a golden isle 
 Clasped by a cloudless sky and sunny sea, 
 Liest 'mid the waves of time that endlessly 
 Fret round about us, well might thy deep 
 
 smile 
 
 Our wearied souls into belief beguile, 
 Earth were attuned to sweetest harmony, 
 We drank of passing peace, and should go free 
 From fate's dark tempest for a little while. 
 In thee, named for the proudest stars of all 
 That shimmering hang on high, life's fevered 
 
 flow 
 
 For a brief space glides with such gentle fall 
 Past the fair blossoms which beside it blow, 
 That on its restful heart unruffled shine 
 The widespread heavens, filled with God's breath 
 
 divine !
 
 TO AN UNKNOWN LOVE. 
 
 She was a lonely woman. Yet if sometimes gently twitted on 
 her condition, as is the fashion of young folks, she always smiled 
 brightly, and said she knew that somewhere in the Universe her 
 Lover was waiting for her. 
 
 OH my blessed Love, beloved though unknown, 
 
 unfound, unseen, 
 More than all that God has fashioned His sweet 
 
 heaven and earth between ! 
 
 Thou of noble form and feature, ample height 
 
 and girth of limb, 
 Of that generous mould resembling some rich 
 
 vessel, to the brim 
 
 Filled with golden wine, whose presence, though 
 
 in secret hid and sealed, 
 Its fine fragrance, all pervading, to the gladdened 
 
 sense revealed.
 
 I2O BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Ay, a soul wherein there blossoms perfect man- 
 hood's fairest flower, 
 
 Strength to tenderness transmuted, mildness wed- 
 ded into power. 
 
 Of a brow where thoughts immortal set glad 
 
 youth's unfading spell, 
 Of a grave, sweet smile, and earnest, quiet eyes, 
 
 that kindly dwell 
 
 On all living things and creatures, men of every 
 
 clime and zone, 
 Yet with deeper light enkindle, but for one, and 
 
 one alone, 
 
 And that one myself, Beloved ! Oh my tender, 
 
 calm and strong, 
 Oh to thee, my joy, my darling, do I consecrate 
 
 this song ! 
 
 Thou unknown and yet familiar, with what fer- 
 vent prayers and tears 
 
 Have I sought thy fleeting image through the 
 weary, endless years !
 
 TO AN UNKNOWN LOVE. 121 
 
 Sometimes heart and pulses thrilling, fancied for 
 
 a little space 
 That I caught here, there, and yonder, glimpses 
 
 of thy form and face; 
 
 But deceived, deluded ever, in the fond, sweet, 
 
 foolish trust, 
 At my trembling touch the image crumbled into 
 
 common dust ! 
 
 Yet for all the hopeless yearning that was ever 
 
 my sore part, 
 God's dear mercy never suffered that I gave my 
 
 wayward heart 
 
 Unto any less of stature, smaller state or mould 
 
 more mean 
 Than in thee I love and worship, O my royal 
 
 Love unseen ! 
 
 God's sweet mercy, that has kept me whole 
 
 and pure and true for thee, 
 Even as thou, Love, 'neath the starlight, or beyond 
 
 it, wait'st for me,
 
 122 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Somewhere, somewhere ! And though weary 
 worlds divide us for a while, 
 
 Sometimes we shall clasp each other, speech- 
 less, with a silent smile, 
 
 Read the love through tears of rapture, that 
 
 since life began we bore 
 Each to each, O my Beloved, found, mine own 
 
 forevermore !
 
 O FLOWER MOST FINE! 
 
 O FLOWER most fine of Love Divine, 
 That to my soul had given 
 For bliss not found on earth's wide round 
 A joy of heaven, 
 
 O source of song ! that bright and strong 
 Once flashed beneath the sky, 
 Or like a brook in shady nook 
 Went murmuring by ; 
 
 Turned in its flow to music low 
 The day's monotony, 
 While where it sang, luxurious sprang 
 Grass, flower, and tree; 
 
 White lilies fair that filled the air 
 
 With fragrance passing sweet, 
 
 'Neath the green shade where down I laid 
 
 Life's toil and heat.
 
 124 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Through what dark power, in evil hour, 
 Did then thy founts run dry; 
 Through what sharp blight, in starless night, 
 Thy blossoms die? 
 
 Deep at the core where hope is o'er, 
 Shall this dark death be found ? 
 Or shall the source that in its course 
 Flowed underground 
 
 ' For a brief space, in power and grace 
 Leap forth once more to day, 
 From the brown root new blossoms shoot, 
 More fair than aye ? 
 
 O Love Divine, the answer Thine 
 Unto the soul to give, 
 That as it fall must at Thy call 
 Perish or live!
 
 GREECE. 
 
 O MAGIC land, with sunny seas girt round, 
 And gentle hill-tops, whose dark forests shine 
 In the deep flush of morns and eves divine, 
 Thou who didst once with rapturous songs re- 
 sound, 
 
 In the glad time when on thy shores was found 
 A happier people, flower most proud and fine 
 Of all our race, who drained the golden wine 
 Of beauty from a cup with roses crowned 
 Wherefore turn we, whose brightest splendors 
 
 seem 
 
 Of the full glory thine so long ago 
 But a faint echo, a pale after-gleam, 
 With love so great to thee that in its glow 
 Two thousand years of shadow melt away, 
 And thou arisest fair as yesterday ?
 
 126 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 For oh, in thee the image we behold 
 
 Of that fresh, dew-gemmed morning, when the 
 
 lyre 
 
 Still had unbroken music to inspire 
 The leaping blood with ecstasies untold, 
 Whose generous heat through weary years grew 
 
 cold; 
 
 When it seemed easy task to snatch the fire 
 From heaven on high, with hands that could 
 
 not tire, 
 
 Ere yet the saddened soul was wise and old ; 
 Symbol of that proud power of early days, 
 When all things great were hoped and dared and 
 
 done, 
 
 Which breathes in living stone or deathless lays 
 Of what no more shall come 'neath this pale 
 
 sun 
 
 That youth immortal that from age to age 
 Is still the world's most priceless heritage !
 
 LIKE TO A BROOK, O SONG! 
 
 Too long, too long, 
 
 O my immortal song ! 
 
 Like to a brook whose joyous life has lain 
 
 Fettered and hushed in winter's icy chain, 
 
 Wast thou imprisoned in my silent heart ! 
 
 Now like that brook in Spring, 
 
 When the warm beam makes leaves and bios* 
 
 soms start, 
 
 And joyfully the woods and valleys ring 
 With new-found lays of warblers on the wing, 
 Unbound from ice and snow, 
 That do but help to swell thy flood and flow, 
 Of every trammel free, 
 Leap forth into the sun, 
 Thy new glad course begun 
 In fuller strength than yet was granted thee! 
 
 Flow on, flow on ! 
 
 From twilight unto dawn,
 
 128 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 Through morn and noon, and 'neath the star's 
 
 pale glow, 
 And singing tell of all things thou shalt know ! 
 
 Of the fair child who bathes his dimpled feet, 
 Laughing aloud with glee, 
 
 In thy bright stream, or sails his tiny fleet, 
 
 Of the fair maid, who bending down shall see 
 Her own sweet, blushing image glassed in thee, 
 
 Of the glad even-tide, 
 
 When happy lovers walk thy banks beside, 
 
 Whispering in voices low, 
 
 Hand clasped in clinging hand, 
 
 Or in glad silence stand, 
 
 Amid the trees and flowers that round thee blow. 
 
 Away, away ! 
 
 Thou canst not ever stay 
 
 'Mid this sweet peace, where thy small heart is 
 
 stirred 
 
 By sun and shade, and flower and chant of bird, 
 But must from out thy pleasant fields haste down 
 Into the broader plain, 
 
 Past shimmering cities, and the populous town 
 Filled with the busy hum of toil and gain, 
 Whence shadows dim and sad thy brightness 
 
 stain,
 
 LIKE TO A BROOK, O SONG I 129 
 
 Where to thy waves shall flee 
 
 Fair innocence to save her purity, 
 
 Or sin and crime in dread 
 
 Haste their dark deeds to hide 
 
 In thy unruffled tide, 
 
 Where stately ships float near the silent dead. 
 
 So long, so long, 
 
 O my immortal song ! 
 
 Till like that river thou hast seen and told 
 
 The deepest secrets that our lives may hold, 
 
 Flow ever on ! and like that river, fed 
 
 By springs unceasingly, 
 
 Grow still more wide thy banks, more deep thy 
 
 bed, 
 
 Gather still fuller strength and majesty 
 On all thy course, yet mingle lavishly 
 Sweetness with power, so they 
 That drink of thee, refreshed go on their way. 
 And as unto the sea 
 That river hastes for aye, 
 O my proud song, thus may 
 Thy currents all set to eternity!
 
 BE STILL. 
 
 O JOY ! O happiness ! since earliest days, 
 
 Through many silent years, 
 I've waited for thee long and patiently, 
 
 Prayed for thee with hot tears, 
 Sought thee 'neath many forms, on hundred paths 
 
 Followed thee long and fleet, 
 Like to some eager boy, who does pursue 
 
 With swift, untiring feet, 
 From dewy morn till noon till the gray eve 
 
 Through vales, o'er hill-tops high, 
 O'er dusty highways, through green, flowery 
 meads, 
 
 Some golden butterfly, 
 That charms his sight and soul and lures him on, 
 
 E'er on, resistlessly ; 
 Now poising on some trembling lily-stem, 
 
 Now on some small, brave tree 
 That spreads its crimson roses to the sun, 
 
 And then perchance upon 
 The very path before him, at his feet, 
 
 Yet ever and anon,
 
 BE STILL. 131 
 
 As he draws nigh, and with all eager hands, 
 
 Fancies that he must clasp 
 The delicate wings that softly ope and close, 
 
 Eluding his swift grasp, 
 And mockingly winging its flight away, 
 
 E'er on and on again, 
 Till weary, breathless, he must pause at last, 
 
 All his great hope grown vain ! 
 Wherefore this be, I know not, O my soul, 
 
 And may not answer thee ! 
 
 Were it perchance that this frail, beauteous 
 thing 
 
 Is wrought so tenderly, 
 Captured, its life endured but one brief hour ? 
 
 Or that its delicate mould 
 Viewed closer by were not so passing fair ? 
 
 Or that the pallid gold 
 
 Which paints its splendor on the shimmering 
 wings, 
 
 Were bruised and paled away ; 
 Turned to gray dust at the first touch of aught 
 
 Fashioned of coarser clay ? 
 I may not say nor question more ; but know 
 
 'Twas thus my Father's will, 
 And that it is my part to rest content, 
 
 And bid my heart be still!
 
 ALL FUTURE YEARS ALONG. 
 
 THOU who hast been to me in by-gone years, 
 For the great love that then was mine for 
 thee, 
 
 The all-abundant source of bitter tears, 
 A spring whose waters flowed so lavishly, 
 
 So deeply mingled with a subtle bane, 
 
 That those green days, when hope was young 
 and bright, 
 
 And life had like a shimmering garden lain, 
 Flooded with sun, in my enchanted sight, 
 
 All the wide spring-time landscape clouded hung 
 As with the gray mists of perpetual rain, 
 
 The thousand beauteous blossoms there had 
 
 sprung, 
 Struck by a sudden cruel blight were slain,
 
 ALL FUTURE YEARS ALONG. 133 
 
 Wilted and drooped, as touched by breath of 
 
 fire, 
 
 Till of all joys of gladsome earth was left 
 Not one my soul yearned toward with fond de- 
 
 sire, 
 Of that delight untold, thy love, bereft, 
 
 Be to me still all future years along, 
 
 For the great love is ever mine for thee, 
 
 The never-failing fount of sweetest song ; 
 
 A well shall spend its streams so generously, 
 
 So strong with secret, blest, life-giving power, 
 That those sere days when hope is old and 
 
 When, in the course of nature, leaf and flower 
 Are stripped of brightness, droop and fade away, 
 
 The whole wide autumn landscape shall be clad 
 
 In all the thousand charms of spring again, 
 All the parched, tender plants, newborn and 
 
 glad, 
 As with the freshness of soft summer rain, 
 
 After long drouth, lift up their heads once 
 
 more, 
 Put forth new buds and blossoms passing fair,
 
 134 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 That shall like incense delicate odor pour 
 All round about them on the sunny air, 
 
 A perfume so most strong, and sweet, and pure, 
 That through unnumbered ages yet to be, 
 
 Within the souls of men shall still endure 
 Our fragrant, undivided memory.
 
 ABOVE AND EARTH AND TIME. 
 
 O LARK ! that risest from dew-glistening fields 
 Into the cloudless, sun-filled morning sky, 
 Lost in the rapture of thy warbling song, 
 
 Soaring so far, so high, 
 
 The earth with all its towering hills appears 
 
 But a green island in a wide, blue sea, 
 
 What are to thee 
 
 The voices of the children in the field 
 
 That laugh and crow 
 
 So deep below, 
 
 The feeblest echo of their loudest glee 
 
 Scarce reaches thee ? 
 
 O soul ! that risest from the happy earth 
 Into the boundless space of heaven on high, 
 Heedless if it be day or darksome night, 
 
 Soaring to God so nigh, 
 
 The world with all its petty cares, appears 
 But a dark speck in a vast sea of light,
 
 136 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 That with unruffled calm dost contemplate, 
 
 And life and death, or good or evil fate, 
 
 That knowest thine the peace unspeakable, 
 
 Where tears and smiles are done, 
 
 And pain and joy as one, 
 
 What were to thee the noisy voice of fame 
 
 Wherewith men chose perchance to herald thee, 
 
 Through every land and clime, 
 
 Thee, that dost rise above and earth and time ?
 
 IN VAIN. 
 
 IN vain, O Life and Time ! in vain 
 Your toil and strife, the end to gain 
 
 Whereon your hearts are set ! 
 Nor strength nor cunning shall avail, 
 Your wiliest efforts all must fail, 
 
 To make my soul forget ! 
 
 One working with the voiceless power 
 That silently saps rock and tower, 
 
 Till there must sink away 
 The proudest spires that rise on high, 
 The cliffs that heaven's fierce storms defy, 
 
 To dust and dark decay. 
 
 The other with the thunder's roar, 
 As when the waters to their core 
 
 Cleaves the red lightning's sheen, 
 And right and left on either side 
 Rears in the flash the plunging tide 
 
 Steep walls of quivering green.
 
 138 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 One steady like a stream, whose strong 
 Yet gentle current bears along 
 
 All darkness of the past, 
 On whose still shores the barren graves 
 Grow bright with flowers, whose water laves 
 
 And heals all wounds at last. 
 
 One fitful as when northern nights 
 Are all aflame with flickering lights, 
 
 Would charm with thousand strange 
 Fantastic forms of dazzling play 
 All memories from the heart away, 
 
 In ceaseless whirl and change. 
 
 Greater than all things, save alone 
 And God and love and death, I own 
 
 Your wondrous power, and yet 
 Shall all your toil and strife prove vain, 
 O Life and Time, that end to gain, 
 
 To make my soul forget ! 
 
 For when the goal seems well-nigh won, 
 Shall all your labor be undone, 
 
 The dead shake off their pall ; 
 In but thy smallest span, O Time, 
 The slightest of the gifts sublime, 
 
 Thou, Life, must grant to all !
 
 IN VAIN. 139 
 
 A gleam of moonlight on the sea, 
 A chance sweet strain of melody, 
 
 The odor of a flower, 
 Would bring his image back with tears, 
 Through dust and death of thousand years, 
 
 In all its undimmed power, 
 
 Wake all those memories of yore 
 For evermore and evermore 
 
 Mingled with joy and smart, 
 That even when my soul afar 
 Rejoicing floats from star to star, 
 
 Must shake my inmost heart.
 
 ETERNAL SPRING. 
 
 DEEP in the dimmest recess of my soul, 
 
 Faint as the passing fair 
 But yet scarce scented breath of spring that stole 
 
 Into the wintry air ; 
 
 Bound as the folded bud that shut from sight 
 
 Beneath the hard, brown bark, 
 Giving no hint of the rich blossoms' white, 
 
 Still slumbers in the dark ; 
 
 Dumb as the unborn bird that in his shell, 
 
 Wrapped in unconscious hush, 
 Dreams not the chant that from the living well 
 
 Of his small throat shall gush, 
 
 There lies the promise of a coming song, 
 
 Unquickened, cold, and still, 
 While yet its heart in secret waxes strong, 
 
 The fluttering pulses thrill.
 
 ETERNAL SPRING. 141 
 
 And when the moment comes, the magic word 
 
 Which the dark spell must break, 
 When balmy breath and bud and warbling bird 
 
 To sudden life awake, 
 
 Then with such deathless power my song shall 
 roll, 
 
 With such deep sweetness ring, 
 That in the dimmest recess of my soul 
 
 'Twill make eternal spring! 
 
 P
 
 SONNET. 
 
 FROM out the finest flower, the rich and strong 
 Most precious wine of deepest life, set free 
 By the deft touch of some rare alchemy, 
 We, though poor grasses of the field among, 
 Distill the golden honey of our song, 
 Ourselves in one, O marvelous thing ! the 
 
 bee 
 
 And fragrant blossom too. But yet, ah me ! 
 How in this whirling age, that spins along 
 On lightning's borrowed wings through space and 
 
 time, 
 
 Shall such sweet, silent miracle be wrought? 
 Never ! save when it may be as we climb 
 With daring feet those dizzy heights of thought, 
 We catch beyond dim midnight sun or star 
 A vision of the Godhead from afar!
 
 TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 "GiVE me the wine of happiness," I cried, 
 " The bread of life ! O ye benign, unknown, 
 Immortal powers ! I crave them for my own ; 
 I am athirst, I will not be denied 
 Though Hell were up in arms ! " No sound 
 
 replied ; 
 
 But turning back to my rude board and lone, 
 My soul, confounded, there beheld a stone, 
 Pale water in a shallow cup beside ! 
 With gushing tears, in utter hopelessness, 
 I stood and gazed. Then rose a voice that 
 
 spoke, 
 "God gave this, too, and what He gives will 
 
 bless ! " 
 And 'neath the hands that trembling took and 
 
 broke, 
 
 Lo, truly a sweet miracle divine, 
 The stone turned bread, the water ruby wine 1
 
 SONNET. 
 
 THE hour before the dawn ; and all around 
 O'er heaven and earth and ocean far and nigh, 
 Stillness, in whose deep bosom every sigh 
 And breath of life, each faintest, fluttering sound 
 Seems hushed forever. Stillness so profound 
 I know not if it gently floats on high 
 Out of my heart, or from the star-filled sky 
 Descends, a benediction earthward bound. 
 But in that heart from tears and sorrow free, 
 There slowly rises as on some dark sea 
 A lily flower with richest perfume fraught, 
 Its glimmering petals to the night unfurled 
 That folds it lovingly the blessed thought : 
 The Peace of God has come into the world!
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 SOLITUDE. 
 
 I LOVE thee, O thou Beautiful and Strong, 
 Invisible comrade, mute, sweet company, 
 More dear than friend or lover ! But to thee 
 
 My fondest hopes, my fairest dreams belong 
 
 For evermore ! Amid the world's gay throng 
 I yearn for thy soft arms that lovingly 
 Soothe all the fevered wounds once fretting 
 me. 
 
 At thy deep heart there springs the fount of 
 song 
 
 Whose drops shall cool my burning lips athirst, 
 At thy swift beck within my sight arise 
 
 (Their bonds of silence and dim darkness burst) 
 All my beloved dead, with shining eyes, 
 At thy blest hand, by starlit paths untrod, 
 My soul draws near unto the face of God!
 
 146 BEYOND THE SHADOW. 
 
 SILENCE. 
 
 AY, and thee, too, who wield'st a power divine, 
 Greater than loudest speech or fairest lay ! 
 The dead, millions on millions, own thy sway, 
 
 In realms where suns, to rise no more, decline. 
 
 Thine is the lover's sweetest rapture, thine 
 The deepest cup of grief or joy, that aye 
 The lips of mortal tasted ; thine yet stay 
 
 How may I name thee, with what sound so fine 
 
 It shall not snap thy life's frail, golden thread ? 
 O Solitude and Silence, bid me learn 
 
 A little of your greatness ! Long are fled 
 The lesser gods of life, now let me turn 
 To ye alone, to ye in worship come, 
 The accents of this faltering tongue grown 
 dumb !
 
 SONNET. 
 
 FROM out eternal silence do we come; 
 
 Into eternal silence do we go ; 
 
 For was there not a time, and swift or slow, 
 
 Must come again, when all this world's loud 
 
 hum 
 
 Was naught to us, and must again grow dumb 
 Through all eternity ? Between two low, 
 Dark, stony portals, with much empty show 
 Of tinkling brass and sounding fife and drum, 
 The endless Caravan of Life moves on ; 
 Or whence or whither, to what destiny, 
 But He who dwells beyond the furthest dawn 
 Knows, yet reveals not, evermore even He 
 In silence wrapt, though deepest thunders roll, 
 Save for His deathless message to our soul !
 
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