NRLF 3 I3t 574 OFCALlfORNI 6IFT OP ROBERT" BELPHER SHADOWS BY GEORGE K. CAMP. OF SAN FRANCISCO : A. L. BANCROFT & COMPANY 1885. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1885, by GEORGE K. CAMP, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. CONTENTS. FIXED SHADOWS. RONDEAU^: PAGE THE REASON WHY .... .11 IN THE SNOW-FLAKES I2 SHE SMILES ON ME ... 13 Tis ALL FOR THEE . . 14 I DO NOT CARE ... . I 5 Tis BUT A TEAR ... J 6 AH ME ! ... . .17 LOOK UP .... l8 FOREVER TRUE . . T 9 WHEN I WAS YOUNG JUST SWEET SIXTEEN . . . .21 IT WAS A DREAM RONDELS : SCATTER THE SHADOWS .... 2 3 MIGNONETTE . . 2 4 WHICH SHALL IT BE? NOTHING .... VlLLANELLES : WHICH WERE THE BETTER? ... .27 SWEET, SAD LOVE ... . 29 THE LAMENT OF THE REJECTED ..... 3 1 134836 CONTENTS. TRIOLETS : PAGE WOOING is BAD . .... 33 ONLY A ROSEBUD ....... 34 SHADOWS . . . .... 35 BLUE EYES ........ 36 IN THE MAY WEATHER . . . . 3,7 SONNETS : YOUTH S DREAM ....... 38 LEE . . 39 BALLADES : BALLADE OF DECEITFUL WOMAN . ... 40 BALLADE OF COUNTRY PLACES . . . . . 42 BALLADE OF THE COLD SEA . . 44 BALLADE OF THE GOLDEN WEST ..... 46 SHIFTING SHADOWS. THAUMATURGUS ........ 51 UNFINISHED . ....... 54 WAITING . 57 To IDA ......... 59 THE COTTONWOOD SCOURGE . . ... 62 AN EMPTY NECROPOLIS ....... 65 To MRS. HATTIE STEWART ...... 68 THE ICONOCLAST . ....... 70 LAQUELLE ? ........ 82 THE PHANTOM BARQUE ....... 83 TOLL THE BFLI. ........ 85 FATE 88 REVERIES ......... 90 MY BOY ......... 92 MISERERE . . . . . . . . 94 CONTENTS. PAGE THE HEART . . . . . . . . .96 To ATLANTA ........ 98 THE DOVE AND THE MAIDEN ...... 101 THE FEVER . . . 102 THE BLOSSOM AND THE BREEZE ...... 106 BABY S PRAYER ........ no LEGEND OF THE KISSIMMEE ...... 112 PAWNING THE PETTICOAT . . . . . 118 OREGON SUE .... .... 126 DEAD MAN S BAR .... 133 THE GROWL OF THE GOLD-DIGGER . . . . .138 SONG OF THE KLAMATH . . . 145 " TRANQUILLA" .... . . 150 SHADOWS OF DAWN. To DELL ...... . 155 To A FALSE CHARMER ....... 157 FANCIES IN THE FIRE ....... 159 MY SWEETHEART ........ 163 HfcR NAME ........ 165 NEMESIS ......... 167 SONG OF LIFE ........ 171 STILL WILL I HAPPY BE . . 173 THE FATAL PLEDGE ... ... 175 BELLE . . . 180 HEAVEN S ROSES ....... 181 FAREWELL ......... 184 WHOSE is SHE? ... .... 187 A SIGH ON THE AIR ....... 190 FAITHLES 192 FIXED SHADOWS. ^^TBKAR-^V f OF THE \ ( UNIVERSITY ) v OF y X&LIFORJi^ THE REASON WHY. THE reason why, I cannot tell, Yet bird, and breeze, and brook, and shell, The same sweet song sing night and day, And love is woven in the lay, Like perfume in a blossom s bell. I feel my heart expand and swell With sweets from out some fairy dell, But naught confides, seek as I may The reason why. There is a maid whose eyes ah, well ! They light her red lips hydromel, As star beams over roses stray Perhaps though mind ! I do not say Perhaps this gentle maid might tell The reason why. IN THE SNOW-FLAKES. IN the snow-flakes in the wheeling Coronation stands she, stealing Sly and saucy looks at me, Looks whose half I only see Neath her white lids swift revealing. Still I catch a deeper feeling (Which the lashes fail concealing), Goldening futurity, In the snow-flakes. So I put aside appealing To her love in this congealing Atmosphere, and ask if we Must forever parted be ? And there is a love s annealing In the snow-flakes. SHE SMILES ON ME. SHE smiles on me, but in her downcast eyes That look a lullaby of silent sighs The silken, soft, and drooping lashes under, A pirate lurks, the heart s sweet freight to plunder, And then to cast adrift the ravished prize. Still, like a cloud, sun-kissed to dazzling dyes, And by the glory blotted from the skies, I revel in her rays; yet who can wonder ! She smiles on me. I know the swift and deadly lightning lies Behind the snowy curtains deep disguise; I know the shackled and imprisoned thunder, Will rend its mute environments asunder, But love above all overthrow shall rise- She smiles on me. TIS ALL FOR THEE. ~"MS all for thee the wild unrest, X The dream-bird s song in slumber s nest, The rapture glowing through disguise When in my clasp thy soft palm lies, And love stands silently confessed. My heart has but one welcome guest, With one fond feeling is oppressed, For when it sings and when it sighs, Tis all for thee. When like a low wind from the west That breathes the prayer it knoweth best, Impassioned melodies arise From love s sweet lute when longing eyes Droop with a melting, mute request, Tis all for thee. I DO NOT CARE. IDG not care thy chosen path pursue, These are some foolish whisperings to rue, Some idle hopes and tokens to recall, But that is all And thorns may thicken where the lilies grew. And yet what shafts of passion melted through Thine eyes wild witchery and wondrous blue ! Still, if cold gloom must on their glory fall, I do not care. Nay, sweet one, whisper softly thou art true, And with these dimpled hands in mine, renew Love s tender thrall; Pluck not the roses from life s barren wall, Nor thus with ashes strew ah well ! adieu ; I do not care. TIS BUT A TEAR. ) r "MS but a tear, still in its mute embrace jL A weeping sorrow veils her weary face : It is a hope, a prayer, a wild regret, A cenotaph for starry dreamings set, A wandering drop from passion s broken vase. It is a mantle shielding frail disgrace, An alkahest for noble and for base When grief or disappointment comes and yet Tis but a tear. It is a gem which lights the dimpled face When rapture rides the heart his frantic race; A scimeter in azure eyes, or jet, Whose argument no man hath ever met; A sword whose bright edge leaves nor scar nor trace Tis but a tear. AH ME! A[ me ! ah me ! whence comes the low refrain ? I heard it erstwhile hark ! Ah me ! again. I feel the tingling blood in pity sweep Along my veins ; and still the tidings creep Upon the darkness like a funeral strain. There is the muffled death-roll of the rain Upon the icy rampart of the pane, But through it drifts a diapason deep Ah me ! Ah me ! Is love unfaithful that the hours complain ? Doth some gray phantom haunt the night amain ? It is the voice of griefs that may not sleep, The dirge of days who for their errors weep, For love is vanity, devotion vain Ah me ! Ah me ! (2) 17 E LOOK UP. OOK up, my pet look to the open sky, Turn like a violet thy slumbrous eye Unto the clustered stars, and thou shalt see The measure of the love I bear for thee Nay, do not sigh; If men have faithless been in days gone by, Still to my pleadings grant a sweet reply; Shed all the gracious light of love on me Look up, my pet. There is no fate my soul would not defy That on this breast thy gentle head might lie, For in my life thy presence still must be Its mystery Eternally and wilt thou still deny? Look up, my pet. FOREVER TRUE. FOREVER true, my heart must cleave and cling Unto its cross of love and suffering : It still must bloom, its weary life renew With tears for dew, And sighs for breezes blown from sorrow s wing. What solace may the fragrant breath of spring Unto a dead or painted lily bring ! Or to a heart that dreams its lone life through, Forever true ! What care I that the birds of summer sing, And blossom-bells their chimes of perfume ring ! I only know that eyes so fond to woo, So deeply blue, Are shrouded, and my heart is broken thing Forever true. 9 WHEN I WAS YOUNG. WHEN I was young-, and sweet hopes hung Like blooms the dewy hours among, A wandering minstrel softly stole Into a corner of my soul, And nestling there, divinely sung. Weird strains of music from his tongue Were sweetly breathed or wildly flung, And love was life s enchanted goal When I was young. But now the harp to which I clung Is mute, dismantled, and unstrung ; The minstrel s songs no longer roll From out my bosom s frozen pole, And all the hopes are dead that sprung When I was young. J JUST SWEET SIXTEEN. UST sweet sixteen, with hair of sunshine rolled In many a flossy flake and flame of gold, And cheeks through which enchanted roses press A dim suspicion of the tenderness Their bloom enfold. She loved, alas ! a youth as poor and bold As any youth who loved in days of old ; Ah ! she was fondly foolish, I confess, Just sweet sixteen. Then came a suitor with a wealth untold, Who craved her tender charms to have and hold, And he was sixty rather more than less Still, with a sigh, the maiden murmured "yes." Knowest thou the maiden soul and body sold Just sweet sixteen? IT WAS A DREAM. IT was a dream, but from the golden day It turns full many a sunny shaft away, And solemnly its spectral presence swings On dusky, dim, and omnipresent wings, Above my life, like some grim bird of prey. What boots it that I petulantly say, When gloried over with the noon s red ray, And human fellowship its valor brings, " It was a dream !" I saw the tawny moon-tide sweep and sway Athwart a maiden s charming cheek of May, And when I sighed unutterable things And wooed her in the glad stars glitterings, The odor of her lips sweet rose was Nay! It was a dream. SCATTER THE SHADOWS. / np* HOUGH time with drastic silent surge Sweeps graveward all the human race ; The darkest wave it may up-urge Is lighted by some smiling face. Philosophy or faith will chase The shadows from life s outer verge, Though time with drastic silent surge Sweeps graveward all the human race. Then let us from dim doubt emerge Into the light of love s sweet grace, And let the dolor of the dirge Unto a joyous song give place, Though time with drastic silent surge Sweeps graveward all the human race. MIGNONETTE. HAZEL-EYED maiden, Mignonette, Harken the tale I would o er-tell, The lesson my heart hath learned so well From love s alluring alphabet. Never can I the smile forget Which over my life in splendor fell Hazel-eyed maiden, Mignonette, Harken the tale I would o er-tell. Songs of the sea must ever fret The pearly throat of the haunted shell, But love s are the only sweets that swell From the lips of my perfumed " dainty pet," Hazel-eyed maiden, Mignonette. WHICH SHALL IT BE? WHICH shall it be," the maiden sighed, "The heart of love, or the hand of gold ? The gaunt wolf roams in the wintry wold, And the sea of years moans wild and wide !" Ah ! poverty plays on the harp of pride, And the world is dark and the world is cold " Which shall it be," the maiden sighed, "The heart of love, or the hand of gold?" The wave of want is a bitter tide, Whose saddest wrecks are still untold, For grief wraps silence, fold on fold, O er the story death shall wholly hide "Which shall it be," the maiden sighed, "The heart of love, or the hand of gold?" NOTHING. " A /I T HAT are your thoughts, my pretty maid?" V V <l O nothing," she replied, The while her cheeks in red arrayed The soft response denied; For there are tricks in every trade, But love hath naught to hide ; "What are your thoughts, my pretty maid?" "O nothing," she replied. A footstep wandered down the glade, A footstep as of pride, And all her soul with sweets was swayed When he stood at her side: " What are your thoughts, my pretty maid ? "O nothing," she replied. 26 WHICH WERE THE BETTER? THE heart may break, the heart may bend. Bend or break with a tear or sigh Which were the better in the end ? Droop with a love in silence penned, Sink with the sorrow of good-by : The heart may break, the heart may bend. Wearily over the world to wend, Or under a marble slab to lie Which were the better in the end ? Cold the clasp of a treasured friend, And wintry shadows haunt her eye ; The heart may break, the heart may bend. 27 FIXED SHADOWS. Doubts and fears my bosom rend ; To sue sweet favor or to fly Which were the better in the end? I plead unto the stars, who send But mocking echo in reply : "The heart may break, the heart may bend- Which were the better in the end?" SWEET, SAD LOVE. " r | ^HE sweet sad love that mortals know" So sighs the pine, so sobs the fir "Is but a jewel set in woe; " It is the soul of winds that blow Around the crumbling sepulcher, The sweet, sad love that mortals know; "And e en the fond heart s overflow, And tearful wish for days that were, Is but a jewel set in woe. " A maiden sings our boughs below And wooes, her dreamy eyes aver, The sad, sweet love that mortals know ; 29 FIXED SHADOWS. 4t She cannot deem in hope s rich glow That passion, newly born to her, Is but a jewel set in woe. "And thus, forever, sad and slow Our muffled strings to sorrow stir : The sad, sweet love that mortals know Is but a jewel set in woe." THE LAMENT OF THE REJECTED. IF she must be another s blushing bride, Perhaps tis best : The world which once was gracious still is wide. Yet gloomily a grief will ever hide Within my breast, If she must be another s blushing bride ; While hope, foregoing all for which she sighed, Shall banish rest ; The world which once was gracious still is wide. And but a wreck my soul will rock, and ride On sorrow s crest, If she must be another s blushing bride. FIXED SHADOWS. Ah me ! that love should find at eventide No waiting nest ! The world which once was gracious still is wide. Then let regret put on the plume of pride And make new quest, If she must be another s blushing bride ! The world which once was gracious still is wide. WOOING IS BAD. WHICH is the best to woo, Tell me, I pray, Brown eyes, or black, or blue Which is the best to woo? Which will dead love renew r , Hazel or gray ? Which is the best to woo ? Tell me, I pray. Wooing is bad at best, Sweet though it be ; Nay, fairest, smooth thy crest, Wooing is bad at best ; Love s is a brittle nest In a glass tree ; Wooing is bad at best, Sweet though it be. (3) 33 ONLY A ROSEBUD. ONLY a rosebud red, As a heart token, Scentless now, sere and dead, Only a rosebud red, Like to the hope it sped, Blighted and broken ; Only a rosebud red, As a heart token. . SHADOWS. THE sun sinks, and shadows mute and gray Like ghosts upstart! And mutinous memory holds despotic sway When the sun sinks, and shadows mute and gray Steal from the trailing drapery of day Into my heart. Ah ! the sun sinks, and shadows mute and gray Like ghosts upstart. !5 BLUE EYES. BLUE eyes, whose curtains fall Over their glory ! What heart cannot recall Blue eyes whose curtains fall On love s sweet story ! Shielding, yet showing all, Blue eyes, whose curtains fall Over their glory. :" IN THE MAY WEATHER. UNDER dim twilight skies In the May weather, Soft pleas and sweet replies, Under dim twilight skies, Waken to lips and eyes Wedded together, Under dim twilight skies In the May weather. YOUTH S DREAM. HEAVENLY dream!" a fair youth sighed, As mongst the buds and blooms that twine Their beauties in love s red sunshine A vision nestled, gracious-eyed, Out-wafting witchcraft far and wide From look and parted lips divine " O dream, no future shall divide," Said he, " thy loving heart and mine ! " But when the youth about his prize, Enraptured, eager arms had thrown, The wild light faded from his eyes, The rapture from his heart was flown ; For reft of passion s sweet disguise, The burden that he bore was stone. LEE. OUT from the battle s wreck of pride and plume, And all the midnight of mad overthrow, The chieftain strode, as heroes must who grow The grander for an atmosphere of gloom : Came with a soul unrifled of the bloom Which faith and courage marry to bestow ; Came back to love which \\as a crown to woe, A garland for his sorrow and his tomb. And when his rigid icy hands were crossed Above the big brave heart forever hushed, So warm a heart became so cold a stone ! The people pondered but on what he lost When from his brow the drooping bay was brushed, And in his greater grief forgot their own. BALLADE OF DECEITFUL WOMAN, IT happened in the balmy spring, When perfumes fresh and rare Dripped from the brooding twilight s wing Upon the drowsy air; And she, Kathleen, was young and fair As dreams of fancy s weaving, And I thought not, in passion s glare, That woman is deceiving. My little one, I said, I bring Sweet hope to speed my prayer, The while her cheeks were blossoming With love-buds waving there : O she was fond and debonair Beyond cold art s achieving, And in my heart there was no care That woman is deceiving. FIXED SHADOWS. Sweetest, I said, this golden ring On thy white finger wear ; See how my lightest kisses cling Like rose-leaves to thy hair ! Come to my soul, I said, and share Life s gladness and its grieving, Unthoughful in love s charming snare That woman is deceiving. ENVOY. Ah, prince ! we are a happy pair, Too happy for believing; And in my rapture I forswear That woman is deceiving-. BALLADE OF COUNTRY PLACES. HEARKEN the sad recital of my woes That will not brook concealment in my breast, For even now the dermis of my nose Is peeling off and powdering my vest ; Perhaps when my misfortunes are confessed This wild disgust may lose its sharpest traces ; But heed my warning be no summer guest At country places. Said I, last August, How the hot sun glows ! The very air is with the glare oppressed. O for the fields, I said, where piping crows Build in the daffodils their stately nest. Wherefore I left the city, traveling west, And plunged into the greenwood s airs and graces, My bosom full of dreams of grateful rest In country places. FIXED SHADOWS. Alas ! alas ! no milk nor honey flows, Nor fresh eggs tarry where I made my quest ; The bony farmer said, " Sich projuce goes For them rich city fellers to digest." Meanwhile, the sun made up his mind to test The staying quality of human faces, And my poor nose put on a crimson crest, In country places. ENVOY. Ah, prince ! a thousand insects, bad at best, Along my back ran mad and "frantic races ; And things that move live only to molest In country places. 43 BALLADE OF THE COLD SEA. THE breeze was balmy and the sea was blue, And morning into blossoms kissed the spray, When gallantly a blithe and merry crew Into the frozen ocean sailed away. Ah ! little recked they of the piercing day When phantom icy fingers would bestow The last sad rite and wrap the rigid clay In cerement and sepulcher of snow. Familiar home-scenes faded out of view, And winter smote the faded cheeks of May, But onward still the bark, to duty true, Into the frozen ocean sailed away. The wild wind shrieked, the sky hung leaden gray, The clouds shook out their fatal dust below, And in the shrouds a hoarse fate seemed to say, "In cerement and sepulcher of snow." H FIXED SHADOWS. His black, bleak mantle cruel midnight threw Athwart the sinking sun s last rosy ray, And clasped in chill embrace the brave men who Into the frozen ocean sailed away. No day-beam on the gloom made bold to stray, And Hope herself forsook the haunt of woe : Ah me! "God pity them/ we can but pray, " In cerement and sepulcher of snow." ENVOY. A gallant crew, with banners streaming gay, Into the frozen ocean sailed away ; But now they rest ah well ! the angels know, In cerement and sepulcher of snow. BALLADE OF THE GOLDEN WEST. Y, my darling," the young man cries; "Good-by till I build thee the dearest nest In the land of soft Hesperian skies, In the golden solitudes of the west." The maid to her true-love s heart is pressed, And into her eye the quick tear leaps ; But when he is gone o er the hill s dim crest She foldeth her empty arms, and weeps. Full many a blithesome token hies To gladden the maiden s eager breast, And whisper of love s unbroken ties In the golden solitudes of the west. But when on her warm and rosy rest The cold pale oaf of absence sweeps, And doubt is her heart s unbidden guest, She foldeth her empty arms, and weeps. 4 6 FIXED SHADOWS. The years drift by like lingering sighs, Like deep-drawn sighs from an age s chest, For the maiden s heart, like a crushed rose, lies In the golden solitudes of the west ; And hope flies forth on a fruitless quest, For mystery over the dead hush sleeps, And the maiden forgets " God knoweth best," She foldeth her empty arms, and weeps. ENVOY. The maiden may find no alkahest In the golden solitudes of the west, But over a mound, where ivy creeps, She foldeth her empty arms, and weeps. SHIFTING SHADOWS. (4) 49 THAUMATURGUS. I. WHAT is the reason of the snow Fluttering flower-like down below, Out of a mystic realm opaque Where no star-beam brightens a break ? What is the reason of its fall White and clean from an ashen pall? Why not quiver, and whirl, and float, Out of a cloud cup s crystal throat ? Why not fairily slide and slip Over the winter s glittering lip, Rather than meek, and soft, and dumb, Out of the womb of gloom to come ? II. Why should the vanquished ice-god fling Magical wafts from his bitter wing, S HI F TIN G SHA D O M S . Quickening earth to fragrant deeds And wooing the wastes to bourgeoning Where the luminous line of snow recedes ? Why should he challenge the sun to bring A glory wherever his footstep leads ? Yet ever the daintiest buds emerge From the folds of the fading winter s surge, And birds their tenderest anthems sing In the hush that follows the dead year s dirge, And heralds the dimpled spring. III. What is the impulse glad and wise, Who is the angel in disguise, Scattering wreaths of sweetest flowers Over the ashes of the hours ? What is the force that underlies All our wonderful love implies? Love, that like a violet grows Out of the couchings of the snows, Love that bends like the lily, prayer, Over the dim rim of despair ; Who is the spirit of the spell ? Harken, and let thine own heart tell. a SHIFTING SHADOWS. IV. Love is the secret, love the power, Changing the snow-flake to the flower, Purging the mad heart s bitter well Into a heavenly hydromel ; Love on the earth, or love above, Still wherever, tis only love. Love it is that strews the snow Out of a leaden waste of sky, Only to teach that brooding woe, Breaks into blossoms by and by, Only that we may better know The rest which waiteth on a sigh. 53 UNFINISHED. I. FROM out the years obscure, remote, Unfinished song on shadowy wings Across my life forever float, And brush from love s abandoned strings Their saddest note. II. I catch the sweet familiar strain Which first through life s fair temple swept, But silence grasps it back again, And nothing fills my soul, except A weary pain. SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. The night winds, as they murmur by, Bring e er some isolated link, Some fragment from the wrecks that lie Within the past, then sadly sink Into a sisrh. IV. How oft my fond heart makes pursuit, When, through the dark boughs of the firs, A faint voice like a spirit flute The starry hush of midnight stirs, Then all is mute. V. How often, when the moonbeams play With shadows in the wilderness, I fancy in some graceful ray, The flutter of a phantom dress, Long passed away ! SHIFl^ING SHADOWS. VI. Thus through the dim rifts of the years, But broken chords of memory rise, And fancy, deeming that she hears The olden songs, uplift her eyes Through heavy tears, VII. And life must, like a statue, stand Half wrought in fate s grim studio, An outline of a poem planned By hope which perished neath a blow Of sorrow s hand. V WAITING. I. WHERE booms the blue Atlantic on its beaches In bright, revolving reaches, And, like a sighing nun, The oak in mossy veiling, dusk and dun, Her musical sweet creed forever teaches Beside the singing sea, I sought for hope and love, and found despair and thee II. The cedars hung their deep-hued banners o er us, The billows broke before us, And tenderly at rest Thy golden head lay pillowed on my breast, Until so bitter fate asunder tore us, And bade the years sweep by On wings that waft my soul a song that is a sigh. 57 SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. I gave thee back no sweet and tender token, Love s links are all unbroken, Its plighted troth is true ; And, though disparted, fondly I renew The sacred compact in the star-shine spoken, And bide the golden hour When in my life shall bloom love s first and fairest flower. - TO IDA. i. GENTLE maiden, maiden pure, Maiden dove-eyed and demure. From the soul s most golden censer Graven to thy portraiture, Waft I tenderness intenser Than I mutely may endure. II. When the night s soft hands unbar Dreamy hours, crepuscular; When the wing of twilight hovers In the silence faint and far, Love but only thee discovers, Smiling on me as a star. 59 SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. When the warm winds in the pine Sing a lullaby divine, Or in low sonatas tremble Where the wreathing roses twine, Still their sweetest tones resemble But the melody of thine. IV. In the lily, in the dew, In the violet s dear hue, I can read but love s fond tidings Breathing all their beauty through, And the midnight s hushed confidings E er thy wooing voice renew. V. In thy bright and gracious eyes Elfin love in ambush lies, And his arrow, swift and certain, With a sudden rapture flies Through the fringes of the curtain Drooping o er the fond disguise; SHIFTING SHADOWS. VI. And the ruthless, roving lance From the quiver of thy glance, With a pang a sigh discloses, Wounds the bosom it enchants, And my heart, in chains of roses At thy feet, a captive, pants. THE COTTONWOOD SCOURGE. i. BY the banks of the turgid Klamath, In the shadow of snowy peaks, A pestilence swings on implacable wings, And horribly seeks, through the wearisome weeks, Fresh food for its hungerings. II. In the pine, in the fir, in the cedar, In the multiple tongues of the night, There is ever a moan near akin to a groan, And silence itself has a sorrow its own For the souls that have sailed out of sight. 62 SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. The plash of the rain on the window, The feathery flight of the snow, The moonbeams that drift through the luminous rift Of the cloud-rack all tenderly, tearfully lift Their voices in threnodes of woe. IV. I stand in the city of silence, In the acre of broken hearts, And deem that I hear in the fall of a tear The music that thrills on an angel s ear When the golden life cord parts. V. And the dusky plumes of the pine-trees With a sad, soft anthem sigh A melody sung by no human tongue, From the harp of death by a cold hand flung To those who yet must die. 63 SHIFTING SHADOWS. VI. And the past and present and future Are blent in a single tone An isolate note from a ghostly throat, That over a new mound seems to float, And whiten into a stone. VII. By the banks of the turgid Klamath, Where the snow-browed peaks upshoot, A sad-eyed care upon the air, Like the soul of a deep, unspoken prayer, Broods eloquent and mute. 4 AN EMPTY NECROPOLIS. I. G3.IKF etches on the marble-lidded tombs, With tears for tools, an epitaph of woe ; He works in silence where the willow-plumes Rain sighs and shadows on the hush below, While through the trailing surge of cypress glooms The stars, like great death-diamonds, sadly glow, And hope and patient love poor human things Above the icy ashes fold their wings. II. Like muffled chords from some grand organ flying A fugue of souls through time s cathedral sweeps, Among the arches of the dim years dying The arches where immortal echo weeps (5) 65 SHIFTING SHADOWS. And constantly the mute are multiplying Where silence o er her treasure vigil keeps, And day by day the solemn mourners tread The grassless path down-beaten for the dead. III. But in the heart there is a vacant acre Which gentle charity hath set aside, Wherein she broods, an idle undertaker, And prays the death of doubt, and hate, and pride ;- Still on the beach the blue rush of the breaker Strews only lovely ruin, wild and wide, While malice, envy, error, cunning, crime, Sport with the storms, and scoff the toils of time. IV. Within her park the lovely sexton pineth Beneath the scowl of Eidolon despair, For o er her paths the rank weed proudly twineth And strews fierce blossoms on her whitened hair ; She looks above, but scarce a wan star shineth Between the sullen cloud-racks gathered there, And by her gates the sable death-carts wind With fair dead children of the human mind. 66 SHIFTING SHADOWS. V. What speeds detraction on its mad excursion ? What weights the wing of commendation down ? Why falls like lead the feather of aspersion ? Why floats like foam approval s golden crown ? What beam more fleet than whispers of aversion ! What snail so dilatory as renown ! For living hearts still bear the steel s cold thrust, While garlands deck the dumb, unconscious dust. VI. What boot life s homilies and pure epistles That plead unto the clod-encrusted soul ! The henbane of the heart, its thorns and thistles, Still gather dew from passion s brimming bowl, And hold high carnival though winter whistles From out adversity s inclement pole, But charity sobs at the ingleside Above her graves, o ergrown, unoccupied. TO MRS. HATTIE STEWART. I. I WOULD that as an eagle throws His image from the sky, Or as the petal of a rose Is wafted from its sweet repose By some Eolian sigh, The wraith of destiny may fling But truant shadows from his wing To pass, unpausing, by. II. I would that Love may richly dew Thy life with pleasure s wine, And spare thy cup the bitter rue With which he maddened mine; May time be golden, hearts be true; May starry footsteps twinkle through 68 SHIFTING SHADOWS. The garden of thy years, And scatter blooms, and fond perfumes, And music as of Pity s plumes, Beguiling Sorrow s tears. III. I would that as the seasons sink Into the mute unknown, Some gentle memory may link My name to Friendship s throne ; I would that I might dream, or think, When brooding and alone, That one bright bubble on the brink Of thought were all my own. IV. I wish the spirits of the air, And earth, and tire, and sea, To crown thy soul s most silent prayer, And from thy footsteps sweep despair, Where er thy path may be. I would that peace, and love, and rest, May make thy heart their common nest, And all things beautiful and best, I wish for thine and thee. 6 9 THE ICONOCLAST. I. A SWEEP of midnight hair an eye whose glen- Is flashed from out the furnace of the soul- A tongue attuned to love s sweet oratory Red lips writ o er with kisses as a scroll; And so you have the hero of my story : No sallow saint ; no priest in cowl and stole ; A common mortal twenty-six and past, Unmarried, wealthy, an iconoclast. II. As breathes a sighing night-wind through the willow, As to the pine a plaintive murmur clings, As on the beach the blue, incessant billow Its minor minstrelsy forever flings, A tender longing o er the young man s pillow Outspread the sleepless shadow of its wings, SHIFTING SHADOWS. And launched him forth on Passion s painted ships To gather fruit that withered on his lips. III. A tourist first, unto the thousand-citied And rosy Orient his fancy led ; Ascended mountains where the frost-loom knitted A shroud about their summits cold and dead ; Then to the haunt of fig and palm tree flitted, Where history and legend weirdly wed, And wooed Cleopatra where star-beams smile Along the myth-wreathed waters of the Nile. IV. To Missolonghi, where were snapped asunder The golden strings of Byron s fierce, sweet lyre; To Africa, whose mute wastes quiver under The tawny lash of Fate s remorseless fire ; And much saw he whereat to gaze and wonder, But in his soul there lurked a wild desire, A nameless longing, deepest when he sighed, That travel eased not, nothing satisfied. SHIFTING SHADOWS. V. Along the dimpled disk of seas he drifted Before the waft of wanton kissing gales, While flossy shreds and flakes of sunlight sifted From out the milky mystery of sails, And phantom knights their spectral lances lifted In pale defiance over ghostly grails. But still the youth, upon the wave s blue page, No secret found his longing to assuage. VI. Then northward, where the fair Aurora s tresses, O er-flecked with stars, bestrew the throbbing sky; Where Hecla looms o er icy wildernesses And proudly flaunts his crimson plume on high; Where winter s thrall the fettered sea oppresses, And human bones the cold stars underlie; O er blinking floes that cling about the pole He chased the fleeting fancies of the soul. VII. Then sought he peace in toil, it little mattered The nature or the name of the pursuit ; SHIFTING SHADOWS. His first fair dream was as a fragrance scattered The tree of travel bore but ashen fruit ; And so he desperately smote and shattered The idle image, smote it branch and root, And sought in commerce and in cent per cent The magical elixir of content. VIII. Swift argosies upon his pleasure waited With white wings bent above the purple tide, Before whose flight the fierce typhoon abated, And Zephyr but a perfumed pinion plied. Yet he was weary, disappointed, sated, And o er the pyramids of gold he sighed, For in the honey of his proud success Still lurked the haunting, hollow bitterness. IX. And so he struck the idol into ashes, And sought nepenthe at another shrine ; Plunged headlong in the opal flood that flashes A languid lethe from its depths divine, SHIFTING SHADOWS. And kissed the siren from whose dreamy lashes Streams out the glory and the gloom of wine : Then to the phantom clung he close and fast, Conceiving he had found the balm at last. X. But as the months the fevered weeks succeeded, And nights of singing ushered days of sighs; When time went limping by, or sped unheeded, And sleep was torture in a mad disguise ; When life s fair bloom, with white lips, mutely pleaded For one unsullied dew-drop from the skies The wretched youth, with giant heave and thrust, Overthrew the carnal idol in the dust. XI. About ihe shattered cup he lingered sadly, As o er a dream too fair so soon to fade, And in a fond regret forgot how madly His sweetest hope was flattered and betrayed: Then reason swept the glowing fragments, gladly, Into a grave which Iron Will had made; While o er the wreck she wrapped, and tucked, and tied The pall-like mantles of remorse and pride. SHIFTING SHADOWS. XII. We leave our sins with footstep undecided, With backward stolen glance and frequent sigh ; But when from virtue we are once divided, To folly s arms we run, we rush, we fly ! For man s strange destiny was ever guided By hidden forces, wrenching it awry, And all of us some sweet misdeeds pursue, Forsaking old ones but to chase the new. XIII. From wine he wandered to the gaming-table, Where men with pallid cheeks and eyes of glass Sat statue-like amidst the heated Babel, To lose or win, to scatter or amass, And whether fortunate or not, unable The tempting tonic of the cup to pass ; For men who hazard ever fondly think To ride like bubbles on the beaker s brink. XIV. His horses all competitors outspeeded, His yacht was foremost of a gallant fleet; Success success in golden waves succeeded, And fortune s favors fluttered to his feet : SHIFTING SHADOWS. But in these triumphs there was something needed To qualify the universal sweet A lacking flavor which his heart well knew Its loneliness and longing would subdue. XV. And then the painted image, wrought so newly, Was petulantly from its altar spurned; For o er some dim and undiscovered thule, His restless spirit passionately yearned Some tryst to which, still tenderly and truly, His heart in hungry expectation turned; Some mystic spot within whose peaceful gloom, The rose of rest distills her rare perfume. XVI. Thus many fragile idols were erected, .Insanely worshiped, fiercely overthrown; But, hoping still, the dauntless youth selected Another image wrought of sober stone, Yet in whose searching eye his soul detected A kindred light to that within his own A falcon glance, with never-folded wings, Which soared o er great and swooped to little things. 7 6 SHIFTING SHADOWS. XVII. For vScience now engaged his rapt attention, And on its wondrous pinion Thought took flight, And hung with studious and hushed suspension Among the dimmest distances of night, Or swept with swift and subtile apprehension The veil of tangled theories from sight, Nor knew he pause, nor daliance, nor rest, Until he lay on nature s vanquished breast. XVIII. With all the gracious sisterhood of flowers. The bleeding-heart, the pink, the eglantine- He held sweet converse, couching in the bowers, And dreaming dreams as fleeting as divine- Strange dreams that woke him in the starry hours, And thrilled along his veins like purple wine; Prophetic dreams that from the future stole The shadows of the wish within his soul. XIX. To him the tulip hung atilt with meaning, The jasmine breathed sweet creeds upon the air ; The milk-skinned lily on the swart rose leaning, Was to his heart a promise and a prayer; 77 SHIFTING SHADOWS. While fancy mongst the blossoms went a-gleaning, And garnered sheaves of heavenly beauty there : Yet in it all there hid a mystic lore Whose depths he struggled vainly to explore. XX. And then he drew with tender indecision A veil about the image, but forbore To smite it with the turbulent derision Upheaped on idols loved and left before, For in the ilow rets dwelt a dreamy vision Whose blooming face a wreath of promise wore, And to his heart ils blue eyes seemed to say That he should clasp his crown some happy day. XXI. And next he woke the mystery that slumbers In musing Poesy s o er-blossomed strings ; Brimmed up the summer night with wooing numbers, And rained rich melody from fancy s wings, While every icy fetter that encumbers The heart notes, in their wilder flutterings, He swept aside, and soaring far and free, Shook out the carols of his ecstasy. 7 8 SHIP TING 8 HA /) Oll S. XXII. And then one night a maiden stood before him, With love s rich bloom upon her peerless lips, Who flashed a thrill of sudden rapture o er him From eyes unused to sorrow s sad eclipse Unclouded seas of azure that upbore him Upon their blue, as ocean bears her ships, And, in their dazzling depths, reposed the gem Which crowned his life s unfinished diadem. XXIII. As on a drifting cloud a star impinges, Translating all its blackness into bloom ; As morning with a kiss of crimson tinges The marble of an isolated tomb, The maiden s eyes behind their silken fringes Shone out upon the poet s life of gloom, And lighting up the shadows, grim and gray, Swept with a smile the long unrest away, XXIV. And when the autumn came with golden Hushes, And rich-hued tracery of leaf and sky, In murmured vows and palpitating hushes, The twinkling twilights stole in rapture by ; 79 SHIFTING SHADOWS. While, on the maiden s cheek, the conscious blushes Were to the lover s plea a fond reply, Then on the pillow of his constant breast, The Idol of his life and love lay pressed. * * * * * XXV. And here we leave him to his own resources, In proud possession of his charming bride, A candidate for quarrels and divorces, And all the wretched rest of it beside ; For true love runs in but contracted courses Since marriage knots so carelessly are tied That Hymen, with his air most cool and polished, Suggests that nuptial nonsense be abolished. XXVI. We leave the lady, too, with white arms twining About her husband, handsome, brave, and true ; And yet we part reluctantly, divining What racy single combats will ensue What snaps and snarls ! what petulant repining ! And broomstick battles ! Yes, we sadly rue The parting, but twill always be the same ; -She ll change the trouble with a change of name. 80 SHIFTING SHADOWS. XXVII. And so the story, carried to conclusion, Would blossom to a wild, fantastic play. Its moral, chaos, and its plot, confusion, Its heroes, husbands deftly put away, Its heroines, a beautiful illusion, Its epilogue the trump of judgment-day : We therefore o er the scene a curtain draw, And leave the happy pair to love and law. (6) 81 LAOUELLE ? MERRY eyes, now gray, now blue, Yearning, laughing, tender, true Lips as red as rarest roses Orient garden ever grew, Velvet cheeks whose bloom discloses Eden s fairest charms anew ; Luscious maid I love so well, Young and beautiful laquelle ? In the wind s song, wild and free, Sings no voice so sweet to me As the sigh her thoughts compel, Broken sighs and soft that tell Every tender ecstasy- Loved and lovely maid laquelle ? 82 THE PHANTOM BARQUE. I. UPON an island in the sea of time I watched, and waited : And presently, from out some starry clime, From out the years, with love and passion freighted, Across the rolling" reach of tides sublime A sail appeared. Oh! how the moments grated O er harsh impediments, with dull delay, Until ihe barque was anchored in the bay. II. Then stole a wondrous maid my senses o er, As in my dreaming Full often had she sweetly swept before, Her tropic tresses prodigally streaming, Like sunshine washing some celestial shore ; And I fell down and worshiped, fondly deeming 83 SHIFTING SHADOWS. That in the hazel rapture of her eye No love could languish, no devotion die. III. The days rushed by like rubies, brief and bright, Like pearls outscattered By gentle angels in ecstatic flight : And then, alas ! Disaster shook her tattered And gloomy banner to the weeping night, While winds of desolation smote and shattered The brittle fabric of my love and trust, And whirled its starry fragments in the dust. * * * * * IV. Upon the isle, the lone and silent isle, I still am biding ; And gazing o er the watery wastes I smile To find my heart with hope its dreams dividing- The dreary hope, which time may not beguile, That if the radiant barque the waves be riding In earth s remotest and most stormy sea, It may come back, though but a wreck, to me. TOLL THE BELL. TOLL the bell, the iron-throated Bell despairful ! Let its tidings be outfloated, Sad and prayerful, From each spire and dome and steeple, As a warning to the people, As a voice from heaven sped ; As a note of tender pity From the silence of the city Of the dead ! Toll ! And may its melancholy, Deep and solemn, Crush the heart s incessant folly As a column ! May its clamor, far outreaching, More than dreary wastes of preaching, 85 SHIFTING SHADOWS. Peal at Pleasure s shrine, Ever calling, and enthralling, With an eloquence appalling, Terrible, divine ! Yesterday the clay was glowing, Now tis ashes ! And the cup of Fate, o erflowing, Grimly dashes On the vital spark its wave Gloomy wave which ever lashes, And in sullen silence plashes On its shore, the grave ! Ah ! to live is oft to languish And repine, Since around our dreamings anguish Must entwine ; And the pale thing, named Hereafter From the dimpled lip of Laughter Sweeps the summer bloom ; While before his cold eye, Pleasure, Casting down love s beaded measure, Totters to the tomb. 86 SHIFTING SHADOWS. Toll, O sexton ! Let thy muffled Dirge begin, For another soul hath shuffled Off its sin. Toll, O sexton, warped and bended, From the dead old years descended, Toll thy monody ! For the next wild note that clashes Over mute, dismantled ashes May be rung for thee ! FATE. I. SHE stands before me, but I cannot know The strange, swift lights that glow Within her great sad eyes, That like the shifting and inconstant skies Are masking ever in some weird disguise, Now beautifully blue, And now like midnight, with fierce lightnings fusing through. II. Between the crimson cleavage of her lips A sigh full often slips, And shadows, gaunt and gray, Across their bloom in wan procession stray, Like death-bells tolling on a bridal-day Like ghostly footed snows, Whose crystal kisses blanch the blushes of the rose. SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. I wander o er the mountains and the tides Where er her footstep guides ; Through tangled, tender hours That twine their blossoms in life s secret bowers, And then into the wailing storm which lowers Along the patient years, And on my soul outpours the tempest of its tears. IV. Through cloistered sorrow s sacristy she lingers Where cruel beaks and fingers My bleeding heart assail ; Then out into the fragrance-freighted gale Still on forever to the portal pale, Death s wan and waiting gate Whereto my guide conducts me, for her name is Fate. REVERIES. THE night is dark without; the sobbing rain Beats baffled at the spattered window pane, Imploring, like some spirit of the night A moment pausing in its starless flight To pray admittance. So I sit, and think, While in the blackened grate the bright coals wink Suggestive, and I watch the golden stars That from their dungeon, and its iron bars, In shining troops depart. Out from the aisles Of some dim sanctuary gayly files A bridal train, while roses underlie Their footsteps fragrantly, and seem to sigh A sacrificial blessing. Light of heart They pass the sacred portal; tears may start, And fall upon the rose-leaves, but they rise 90 SHIFTING SHADOWS. Belit with smiles into the joyous eyes That beam as bright as Venus in the skies. I look out from the casement, and the rain Beats baffled at the spattered window pane ; I watch the sodden sky, the dripping night. To see if still the sparks pursue their flight : But all is dark ! The clouds bowl blackly by ; The wind sweeps through the cedar with a sigh, And in the dim expanse of heaven I see No point of brightness which a spark might be. Then to my sofa, and I sit and think, While in the blackened grate the red coals wink Prophetic, and each waving spire of flame Becomes a monument, whereon no name Is written. Down the hushed and solemn aisles Of that dim sanctuary slowly files A burial train. The roses still are there, But bruised and broken ; and the thorns are bare And brittle. Happy feet no fragrance press From their dead leaves and all is bitterness. MY BOY. I. THEY say that he is dead my baby boy, My little gentleman with flaxen tresses: Departed from these treasured-up caresses Which I had thought so fondly to employ: Forever gone ! while sad and empty dresses, And here and there a consecrated toy Are eloquent with such a mighty pain, That he is wrested back from heaven again. II. A stranger closed his eyes, his deep blue eyes, So like to violets, and starry seas A stranger drew the curtain over these, While Death stood gloating o er his ravished prize, Which, with his skeleton and brazen keys, He had unlocked, and to the waiting skies SHIFTING SHADOWS. Let out the prisoned spirit, pure and white, Which heavenward took its seraph-guided flight. III. It booteth not my lost one to repine, My loved, my little one no more forever ! Twere better I had known the darling never Than thus the reaching heart-strings should entwine About a sword-like grief, which can but sever The coiling tendrils from the bleeding vine : And yet these arms of love, though cloven down, Shoot out anew to clasp their sorrow s crown. IV. His footsteps patter through the solitude And dreary isolation of existence, With such a musical and soft insistence, That from its loss my love is warped, and wooed, And wafted to that dim, delightful distance Beyond the azure where the stars are strewed ; And like a bark on some celestial sea, Affection anchors in eternity. 93 MISERERE. WE stood in the glorious, golden dawn Of a new delightful day, And the sunlight fell like a spirit spell On the bonnie brown locks I love so well, And I looked the devotion no tongue can tell, And a passion no pen portray. O sweet was the dawn of that fair day, With its pendulous hopes a-bloom ; But a tempest, apace, smote the heaven s fair face, And brushed from the future all token and trace Of wooing perfume, with its finger of gloom, And wrought, with a terrible skill, in its place A tomb. And now, in the desolate waste of years, In the desert of grief, I grope ; or THE { UNIVERSITY V OF SHIFTING SH A DOM S. For death unto distance yields cruel assistance. And life is not life, it is merely existence, While memory dashes swift tears o er the ashes That bury the beacon of hope. We stand in the gloom of some cold curse, In the palm of a pressing pain, And I sigh for the birth of a happier morn, When sunlight the bonnie brown locks may adorn; Or else, that the sharpest and bitterest thorn That grows o er the head of the dear and the dead May rivet our hearts again. 35 THE HEART. O HEART!" the maiden cries, the sighing maiden ; "O chalice, sparkling over with delight! Thou happy bird with ecstasy down-laden That makest music through the starry night ! Thou buoyant bark, whose palpitating flight Is guided on to love s delicious Aidenn ! O trusting heart! O heart with joy oppressed, Thou makest heavenly anguish in my breast." " O loving heart ! Thou heart upheaped with roses ! A radiant mother softly murmurs this: " O yearning heart, whose fond arm sweetly closes About its new-born rapture ! Heart of bliss, Thou couch, more downy than an angel s kiss, Whereon my bright-eyed darling hushed reposes 9 6 SHIFTING SHADOWS. Rock gently, heart, within my joyous breast, The birdling slumbers in its swaying nest." "O weary heart, in ashes unavailing!" A bended figure breathes : " O muffled tomb, Above whose clay the kites of death are sailing To mark the ashen prey they shall consume ! O sepulcher of life s most sweet perfume, And grave of love ! Alas ! the day is failing, And thou, O cruel heart, shalt yield me rest, A broken thorn within an icy breast." TO ATLANTA. BUT yesterday the wild bird built her nest, And reared her brood of little ones, where now Thy proudest monuments confine the hum And hurry of a multitude. Along Thy busy marts, one thinks he almost hears The music of the brook, which erstwhile ran Discoursive through the flags and flowerets: and At night, when muffled falls the footstep far Of guardsman on his rounds, attentive ears Can catch the echo of the robin s call, And seem to hear the mottled partridge cry Within his rosy fastnesses. Anon A spirit finger from the pine-harp s strings An anthem sweepeth, and the forest sings An undertone of melody. * SHIFTING SHADOWS. The ax Seems still to ring along thy thoroughfares, Responsive to the brawny arm of toil ; And at the eventide thy flagstones bloom, Or seem to bloom, with violets. The wheels Of thy fast multiplying industries Are garlanded with blossoms till they trail Upon the highway, and the eager feet Of energy press fragrance from their leaves, Until thou might st have been by magic built Mysteriously in a single night Upon a couch of flowers. In the gloom Thy temples cast, where browsed the deer, And burrowed close the fleecy rabbit, now The stately cedars nod their solemn plumes, And guard like tireless sentinels the still And sacred acre ; while from slated spire And heavenward-lifted dome, and chapel loft, The mellow bells with silver voices call To Christian worship. With the whistle shrill Of engines straining through thy throbbing heart 99 SHIFTING SHADOWS. The winding horns of hunters seem to blend, And as from startled hills the echoes come, Imagination sees the stay in flight Across the honeysuckled distance: there, Excitedly in hot pursuit, the lank And panting hounds ; beyond, the riders fast They follow, and the forest wraps them in. The drays upon the cobble-stones are but The rattle of the horses on the plain, And from the mountain falls a low refrain Of winding horns, and all is hushed again. Fair city of the south, God speed thee ! may Thy future be through blossoms hanging fair And sweet athwart thy path. Child of the woods, Thy proud escutcheon be the kingly oak Whose throne within the virgin solitudes Thy queenly arm o erthrew, and in the wealth Of thine unbraided tresses I would weave This humble chaplet, for as blushed The dove-eyed Venus from the lisping sea, So from the chalice of the wild rose grew Thy wondrous charms, Atlanta. THE DOVE AND THE MAIDEN, THE sad dove sits in her dim retreat In the wild wood, hushed and lone, And never a note is heard in her throat Save now and anon a moan. A light wing comes on the balmy air And gladdens the waiting dove, Then off to the hills and the glistening rills She hies with her cooing love. A maiden stands in the slanting glow Of the amber-dripping west, But not in her dreams are its yellow beams, Nor the star with the crimson crest. A footstep sounds on the gravel walk, A footstep glad and free ; And the maiden can bide no thought beside, "My darling comes back to me!" THE FEVER. I. HE stood in the twilight as the stars Grew golden in the sky, And never a word his pale lips stirred Save "Kiss me," and "Good by;" Then she to her lonely grief, and he In the path where duty led To the city of graves and sobbing waves, The city of the dead. II. Rosy of cheek and strong of limb, And sturdy of heart was he ; But the yellow fiend s call was in hovel and hall,. And the city was wrapped in a deathly pall, The city beside the sea. SHIFTING SHADOWS. He stood by the couch of rich and poor, Through weary night and day, Watching the spark go out in the dark, And cruel death come, stiff and stark, And fasten upon the clay : And he thought of the twilight when the stars Grew golden in the sky ; When never a word his lips had stirred Save "Kiss me," and "Good by." III. Hither and thither the death carts sped, And the city was wan with woe; For never a spot had death forgot, And crape hung down from castle and cot, And the waving wind breathed low. Fair were the stars and bright the dew, But how could the people know ! For the men were cowed and the women were bowed, Fearing to comfort each other aloud, And the moonlight hung like a saffron shroud On the prostrate earth below. SHIP TIN G SHA 1) O IV S. IV. She sat in her mountain home afar, And sad was her heart in its pain ; For the summer was fled, and the blossoms were dead, And the spirit-winds, tossing the broken leaves, said, "He will not come back again." And she thought of the twilight when the stars Grew golden in the sky, When never a word his pale lips stirred Save "Kiss me," and "Good bv." She pined in her dreary mountain home, For the wintry sky was gray ; And her heart beat low as the sifting snow Fell on the hills and the bottoms below, And feeling her sad heart wed to woe, She knelt her down to pray. And she prayed: "If God be a merciful God, In pity look down on me ! And save htm from harms, to these empty arms, In the city beside the sea." SHIFTING SHADOWS. She lifted her face from the dust " Thank God!" And she rushed to her darling s breast; For the saffron king, on his fatal wing, Had claimed him not as an offering, And she clung to him close, like some tenderest thing, And sobbed herself to rest. VI. And so while the snow-flakes fluttered down, Like blanched buds from the sky, Full many a word his rich lips stirred, And "Kiss me, sweetheart," oft was heard, But never again "Good by." THE BLOSSOM AND THE BREEZE. I. THERE was a blossom fairer far Than lilies are, And sweeter than the .sweetest rose That overflows With fragrant sighs beneath the skies, To twilight s glorious star. II. And to this blossom, pure and bright, One glowing night, A breeze from haunts of summer seas And orange-trees, By some fierce spell, no tongue may tell. Was guided in his flight. 1 06 SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. The fond wind from his waving plumes Shook thick perfumes, And sighed as sadly as the pale And spectral gale, Whose melancholy pinions trail O er long-forgotten tombs. IV. Then, on the cradle of his breast, He rocked to rest The wondrous glory of the flower, That blissful hour, And softly sung with honeyed tongue To her he loved the best. V. O, tender was the truth, and true, Between the two, When to her lover s wooing arms, Her blushing charms, The blossom bright, that starry night, So passionately threw. SHIFTING SHADOWS. VI. But suddenly a shadow stole Across the soul Of blossom and of breeze a shape With wings of crape, That urged its flight athwart the night From out the frozen pole. VII. Then from the blossom s cheek the red In terror fled, While silently about her charms The ghostly arms Wove out of ice, in strange device, A shroud for she was dead. VIII. And then the sad wind strewed the flowers, Through night s long hours, With bootless tears ; and in the fir He mourned for her With all those sweet appeals that stir These human hearts of ours. 108 SHIFTING SHADOWS. IX. But still unto the wind s sad wing Sweet odors cling Fond waftures from life s faded bloom, The soul s perfume ; And evermore the twilights bring The breeze unto the tomb. 109 BABY S PRAYER. THE mute white snow-flakes drifted From a dim and dusky sky, And my darling s eyes were lifted From a sweet face, soft and shy, As the firelight shone and shifted, And the Christmas-tide drew nigh. She sat at my feet in silence, And I knew some deep request Like a prayer was hung on her silent tongue, That a fond hope was suppressed, That a song in the soul was still unsung, Like a tune in a dreamer s breast. Then I smoothed her fluffy tresses And sought for the hidden cause, And said, " What is it oppresses My child?" Then, after a pause, SHIFTING SHADOWS. She said, "Please, mamma, I duesses I ll wite to dood Santa Glaus!" So she sat in the glow of the firelight, With paper and ink and pen, And wrote : " I pray that Santa Glaus may Bring candy and nuts agen ; But he mustn t fordet a nice tea-set, For Desus Christ s sake, amen." And when on the fateful morning The stocking hung huge and fair, With fat sides swelling as cunningly telling The treasures in ambush there, She cried in delight, all crimson and white, And beautiful after the balm of the night, " O mamma, he answered my prayer ! " And I pray that the heavenly Giver, The giver of gifts divine, May shelter from harm with his mighty arm This opening bud of mine, And take it to rest on his gentle breast When loosed from its earthly vine. LEGEND OF THE KISSIMMEE. I. FULL many a long, long year ago, In the land of sighing pines, Where the daintiest blossoms forever blow, And the breath of the breeze is as sweetly low As a love-song in the vines, II. A dark-eyed Indian maid abode, With a heart still proudly free, For the hand of fate had opened the gate Which darkens the years, and bade her wait, And she bowed to the mystery. SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. Full many a dusky suitor came And wooed in the dewy hours ; But her virgin breast was still unpressed When she threw her olive charms to rest On her fragrant couch of flowers. IV. And then, one warm and languorous eve r With a new and strange delight, She heard a crush of the underbrush, And her heart beat audibly in the hush Of the still and starry night ; V. For out of the shadows strode a youth With a golden cloud of hair, And a sweet blue eye, like an April sky r Over which the clouds like shadows fly To leave it still more fair. (8) 113 SHIFTING SHADOWS. VI. The star-rays fell in a storm of light, And the man and the maid were dumb ; But the girl s great eyes shone under the skies With a luminous, glad, and soft surprise, For she felt that her fate had come. VII. And when from the stranger s rose-red lips A quaint sweet murmur fell, She knew what it meant by the thrill it sent To her longing heart and she was content To look what she could not tell. VIII. And the nut-brown arms reached out and up, With a touching and tender grace, And she hung at rest on her idol s breast As her passionate heart was fondly pressed In the fold of his sweet embrace. SHIFTING SHADOWS. IX. Full many a moon had waxed and waned, And the youth with the golden hair Still murmured of love to his wildwood dove, While blossoms rained down from the bowers above And gladdened the glowing air. X. And the loved and loving Indian maid In her mate s strange language cooed, But its dreariest note in her golden throat From a hidden harp-string seemed to float In the flowery solitude. XI. One warm October afternoon This youth of the maiden s heart, With bow in hand, by the silver sand Of a river which coursed through that fair land, Was aiming his deadly dart. SHIFTING SHADOWS. XII. For his ear had caught the snap of a twig Neath the weight of a cautious tread, And the sudden sway of a myrtle spray Unveiled a glimpse of his lurking prey In its fresh and flowery bed. XIII. A twang of the bow-string, and the flash And flight of the cruel dart, And the maiden lay in the shadows gray, Sighing her true young soul away On her husband s broken heart. XIV. She told the tale of her loneliness, And her quest by the river s brink For the form so fair, with its golden hair, For she knew that his step would tarry there Till the deer came down to drink. 116 SHIFTING SHADOWS. XV. And then as her life was drifting out To the weird and waveless sea, With a queenly grace she swept the trace Of a tear from her darling s livid face, And said, "Sweet love, kissa me!" XVI. And so with that sad and pure embrace On her quivering lips impressed, Her life s young flower from its earthly bower Was caught to the stars in the twilight hour, And laid upon mercy s breast. XVII. Twas many a long, long year ago, But the Indian maid s request Shall ever abide the name of the tide Upon whose tropical bank she died, And where her ashes rest. PAWNING THE PETTICOAT. I. YES, stranger, those was high old times, And seem as how it s you, I ll mention the job we worked on Bob In eighteen fifty-two. Well, yes ; if you think a previous drink Wud hurry the story through. II. You see this Bob was a tenderfoot, But he had onusule eyes That showed the stuff ter weaken a rough, An stands in the place of size ; So the boys agreed that he wouldn t bluff, Which no one yet denies. SHU- TING SHADOWS. III. Well, stranger, arter a lengthy spell, Which I am proud ter say, Bob struck it rich with a sluicin ditch An tuk out thundering pay, Then treated the town, from the bar-keep down, An left on the follerin day. IV. Some six or eight months arterwards, When the boys was on a spree, A-slingin the dust in the way the wust Perhaps that ever 1 see, Ole Flowery Pete riz up on his feet An fired a wink at me. V. An layin his holt on my shoulder, so, A-seekin the natur l plumb, He drug me up ter the soshil cup (Containin the best of rum), An takin a most almighty dost, Remarked, "Miss Bob has come ! r SHIP TING SHA D O WS . VI. Ag in? say, stranger, I m not dry, Onless well, gimme a sweet; Or what do you think of the soshil drink I took with Flowery Pete? Jest suits? That s me! so here we be, An may \ve ofting meet. VII. I circled around, you may believe, A-scatterin wide the news ; A-tellin the boys ter quit the r noise, An gatherin diffrunt views ; An it was agreed that the gal Pete seed Was purty as dancin shoes. VIII. But women had never come before, An Bob had shook the gang ; So the Jedge and me talked privatelee, While Pete an the fellers sang ; But we couldn t decide what ter do with the bride In case it was a hang. S HI F TI NG SHADO W S . IX. It wasn t the gal so much, you know, We sorter give in ter that, But women will bring sich an endless strin; Of parsons, ter pass the hat; So me an the Jedge was clean on edge, Like the tail of a tousled cat. X. We couldn t agree, the Jedge an me, So we went for a soshil glass, An it helped me some, fur an idee come I didn t allow ter pass, So I told the boys ter quit the r noise An form in a judgment class. XL An then we helt a kinder court, An the case was fairly tried Fur the Jedge an me was sober, you see (Which never has been denied), An we finerly said, that alive or dead, The boys should see the bride. SHIFTING SHADOWS. XII. An that ain t all the court an me Composed the plaintive s fine, A mild invite, in words perlite, Fur Bob ter furnish the wine; Then Flowery Pete waltzed inter the sireet An formed us in a line. XIII. The boys was very quiet like, But walked in ways amazin , An the Jedge an me was constant! ee Kept wonderin an a-gazin ; Fur I must say them boys that day Showed terrible good raisin . XIV. We halted at the cabin gate, An the Jedge an me went in, An we found the lass at her lookin -glass A-fixin a diamon pin : An 3 the Jedge was red all over his head A-wonderin whar ter begin. SHIFTING SHADOWS. XV. An I never see a purtier face Than I see thar an then, Fur her doe-like eyes was a fine surprise At the mob of drunken men ; So the Jedge an me says soothinlee, "Thar s only a hundred an ten!" XVI. Then we perlitely ast fur Bob, But he was at the mine ; So we bowed as low as our heads wud go, An j ined the staggerin line; But the boys was as full as a tick on a bull, An howled fur a tank of wine. XVII. Then Pete stepped forth an spoke a piece, An , stranger, you d a died ! He said as Bob was off at his job, Supposin we pawned the bride, An Bob s ole mar a-standin thar Wud give er a way-up ride. / SHIFTING SHADOWS. XVIII. I don t know how it happened next, But somehow Flowery Pete Come out with the bride, rigged up fur a ride, An lookin tremenjous sweet; An her cheeks was red so the fellers said An tender enough ter eat. XIX. An so we fetched Miss Bob ter the bar, An read what we had wrote, When Pete, like a fool, clomb up on a stool An called for a risin vote ! But we shet him up with a soshil cup An mortgaged the petticoat. XX. Another, stranger? Well, I will, If this makes yes, makes two: I ll take the same, which I need not name, A drop of the soshil dew; An here s success ter yer little game, An health an wealth ter you. SHIFTING SHADOWS. XXI. Well, that s about the way it was, An 5 the boys got squar ly blind; But the Jedge an me kept sober ter see How Bob wud show his mind ; But he paid the bill with a right good-will, An galloped the mar back down the hill, A-packin his wife behind. XXII. An sence that time Miss Bob has been The purtiest gal that grows, Fur the boys confess she ain t no less Than a saint in female close Which same ter deny is a weepin eye, An the bloodiest sort of nose. XXIII. Well, good by, stranger: call ag in ; An are you travelin fur? It s no more good in Cottonwood, An the times ain t got no stir Say ! up the street that s Flowery Pete, A-walkin along o her. OREGON SUE. A LEGEND OF 53. I. WELL, stranger, here you are ag in ; Now take a smile with me : Jest kind of light, an bide all night, For board an bed is free Not countin a yarn you d like ter 1 arn Come in ! What shall it be? II. The same? Now that is soshil like, So here s a-lookin ter you ; An here s ter the wife what ! dern my life If I ain t heard you d two ! Well, here s may you find a lass ter your mind, A lovin one, an a true. 126 \ SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. Jest set down while I stir the fire An tumble the nag some hay, For you an the brute is in cahoot A-honorin me this day : So freeze ter a seat an toast your feet I won t be gone ter stay. * * * * IV. The yarn? Well, back in fifty-three The wimmen was raly few, So Flowery Pete got frightful sweet On a Injin gal he knew; An I seldom see two folks agree Like him an Oregon Sue. V. An this I say, that an ugly mug Belongs ter the Injin race, But Oregon Sue was white cl ar through In spite of her yaller face, An her close was clean as ever I seen In the most respectful place. 127 SHIFTING SHADOWS. VI. So the Jedge an 5 me, accordin lee, Without a blot or flaw, D rawed up a writ a-statin it That Pete could take the squaw ; An 5 the boys all signed, for ter make it bind, Providin it come ter law. VII. An arter the sarvice Pete an Sue Remained thar, side by side, For well they knew the entire crew Was waitin ter kiss the bride ; An when it was done, an Pete took one, She fell on his neck an cried. VIII. It wasn t the thing, perhaps, ter do, But the boys agreed with me, That she went ter rest on her pardner s breast. The sweetest that ever we see A-lookin , we said, like a rosebud red, A-twinin around a tree. 128 SHIFTING SHADOWS. IX. An 5 , strange as it sounds, the last man thar Was actin the plainest lie, Ter make it appear it wasn t a tear A-gatherin in his eye ; But the Jedge an me could certingly see Thar wasn t a dern one dry. X. An thinkin the gal was lonesome like, With nothin but men in sight, We straggled away with nothin ter say, An dodged about in the night ; An my partin view was Oregon Sue A-huggin him clost an tight. XI. Well, in them days the Injun tribes Was buckin in ways severe ; An signal-lights shone out o nights On the mountings, fur and near ; But Flowery s bride bein on our side, We didn t have much ter fear. (9) 120 SHIFTING SHADOWS. XII. One night she seen the suddent flash Of a green, onusule star, An she said it meant that the tribes was bent On liftin the miners ha r An you may believe, which I won t deceive, They come an they found us thar ! XIII. We left Miss Bob an Oregon Sue With a guard drawed out ter stay, Then inter the shade that the mountings made We silently stole away, As willin as glad ter fight by night As ever we was by day. XIV. But Sue got out and dodged the guard, An never lost sight of Pete ; An the boys all say she blazed away In a style it was hard ter beat; An Pete was as proud as a tipsy crowd A-packin her down the street. 130 SHIFTING SHADOWS. XV. The signal-fires still blazed around, But the imps was monstrous shy, For well they knew that Oregon Sue Could sleep with an open eye ; An venturin out was gitten about The same thing as ter die. XVI. So winter come. Twas Christmas eve That s right ! Don t wait for me ; You want it hot ? As well as not That s Flowery ter a T, An Oregon Sue could mix a stew The touchin est ever I see. XVII. Well, stranger, snow was driftin fast, In flakes so wide acrost That Flowery Pete a-crossin the street Come dern nigh gitten lost; But we warmed him up with a soshil cup, An laughed at the fallin frost. SHIFTING SHADOWS. XVIII. An airly Christmas day, when we Was pilotin Pete ter bed, Thar wasn t a stick nor stone nor brick Ter kiver his curly head ; An under the snow, by a broken bow, The pride of his life lay dead. XIX. We planted her under an old oak tree, A-keepin the fact in mind, That lettin the bark be ever so dark, A white heart hides behind ; An Oregon Sue had a soul as true As the fairest of womankind. 132 DEAD MAN S BAR. I. THEY used ter call this Dead Man s Bar, And if you wish the why, I happen ter know how come it so (Which no one will deny); For I worked here then, with a gang of men, In the claim you re settin by. II. One day while techin off a blast, With somethin else in mind, A man was blowed in a way we knowed Wud finerly make him blind ; So we sent him East with a rattlin beast, An the best guide we could find. 133 SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. The guide, his name was Portagee Joe, A yallerish-lookin case, With here an thar a stragglin ha r A-hangin in keerless grace, But his eyes was keen as ever I seen In a livin human s face. IV. The boys all come ter the startin out, An we sent m off in style, Full up ter the chin with the best of gin, An bottles for arter a while ; An the bags of dust, from last to fust, Was a most respectful pile. V. We stood right whar we re settin now, An watched m climb the trail, An the last we heard was a grateful word In the blind man s partin hail ; So I turned away with my heart that day As big as a yearlin whale. 134 SHIFTING SHADOWS. VI. We kinder knocked off work that day, Because the boys all said That goin away ter the East to stay Was somethin like goin dead ; So we writ a pome on the joys of home, Which the drunken bar-keep read. VII. Next day a rumer come ter camp, That wasn t believed by me, Which said that Joe was seed ter go A-boatin which might be But it was shown he was alone, An paddlin for the sea. VIII. That day we found the blind man, dead, With his rattlin beast clost by, An the boys all felt like the r hearts wud melt (Not bein the gang ter cry), For they couldn t unsay that goin away W r as pretty much like ter die. 135 SHIFTING SHADOWS. IX. We buried him by that biggest fir, But we didn t turn on no pray r, For we all agreed that he had no need Of help that a man could spar ; An we put it down that he d git his crown, If heaven was on the squar . X. Well, Portagee Joe had stole a boat, For the trail he knowed full well Wud give us a clew we d foller cl ar through Ter Afriky or ter hell ; So he took the boat, a-hopin ter float, Whar nothin was left ter tell. XI. But show me a craft in the univarse Can paddle the Klamath through, For the shoals an rocks etarnally knocks The best of m black an blue ; An arter a while I ll give m a mile The stoutest is broke in two. 136 SHIFTING SHADOWS. XII. So Joe an the gin an the dust went down, But the boat was washed ashore, The sorriest wreck, I do expeck, That ever was seed before ; But the onery guide slunk under the tide, And never come up no more. XIII. Well, well ! It s many a good long year Sence plantin the blind one thar ; But my stifFnin j ints is the only p ints (An 5 the whit nin of my ha r) That makes me know how long ago I mined on Dead Man s Bar. 137 THE GROWL OF THE GOLD- DIGGER. I. I AIN T no hand ter kick or buck Agin a losin run of luck, Not even if I m busted ; But raly, if I was a saint (Which you may rightly judge I ain t With being scripter rusted), I couldn t help from speakin out. An may be cussin, too, about The way that I am wusted. II. I don t complain of little pay, Which nat rally declines away In ways sometimes expected ; 138 SHIFTING SHADOWS. But when the children on the claims Is named the most jaw-breakin names It s time that I objected. For now we ve got, ter all intents, More kernels, kings, and presidents Than ever was elected. III. Thar s Greasy Jake on Chiny Flat Has named his last forthcomin brat Mahony Adams Linkum, An Josh has named his youngest gal Miss Roseoler Balmoral Elizerbelly Pinkum, When neither one ain t worth the lead, Much less the rope, when all is said, That it wud take ter sink m, IV. Thar s Shote, a squaw-man, with a gang Of young uns growin up ter hang Onless they greatly alter ; 139 SHIFTING SHADOWS. For Alfred Byron Marmaduke, An Simon Revelations Luke, Is sp ilin for the halter ; An so is Stonewall Moses Lee, An Judus Guiteau Saducee Pythagoras Gibralter. V. Virginny Cleopatrer Rose An Luna Grade Adipose Is gals upon the marry ; But all the boys has said ter Shote They jedged the r fortunes couldn t float With so much style ter carry ; Still Shote he called the final one Posthumous Spiral Rubicon Integumental Harry. VI. Olfactory Snipe has eight or ten, For instance : Ebenezer Ben Sir Walter Homer Tanner, SHIFTING SHADOWS. Helena Shakspere Simplified, Pelucid Astor Ingleside Indigenous Bandanner, Eructible Rebecker Ruth, An* likewise Boberlink Forsooth Imprimis Susquehanner, VII. Thar s David Oleander Grant (Whose eyes is most tremenjous slant An legs is bowed amazin An I must say my mind ain t fixed On which is most infernal mixed, His walkin or his gazin ) ; An thar s his sister Ivanhoe Saint Agnis, which I bet ter know More deviltry than raisin . VIII. Thar s Revrund Barnum Beechers Toe, A twin ter Ikabod Defoe Sartoris Salamander; SHIFTING SHADOWS. An Medieval Tildun Elaine (Another twin ter Ponchertraine Polaris Alexander) ; An last, not least, is Eglantine Ginevrer Donna Ginuine Miss Burdett Couts Mirander. IX. I ve had the measles, rheumatiz, An all the wust of ills thar is, But they was quite a frolic- Was recreations of delight, An pleasanter a dogon sight Than names so dierbolic ; For Grundy Colfax Omnibus Sut Lovingood upsets me wuss Than cramps assistin colic. X. My arms and legs was frequent broke, Which no one heard a cuss word spoke Though constant recommended ; SHIFTING SHADOWS. But thar s a p int whar human grit Gits weakened, like a bow when it Is kept eternal bended ; An so as krckin ain t no use, It s rulable to cut aloose As latterly intended. XI. I principally hate ter growl, But durn my picter for an owl If this ain t overdoin ! I d ruther, as a constant thing, Set down upon a hornit s sting, Or fight a hungry bruin, Than everlastin ly ter hear Them titles ringin in my ear, Amountin ter blue ruin, XII. I come out here in forty-nine. But now I m ready to resign An shake all ol connections. 143 SHIFTING SHADOWS. I want to find some blessid spot Whar children ain t at least is not Beholden to elections An sich for names that, ciphered out r Wud kiver nigh onter about A mile in all directions. 144 SONG OF THE KLAMATH. I. A MERRY and mad and terrible stream, That dashes and gleams and gloats O er dead men s bones and golden stones, And the wreck of a thousand boats, O er the strangled tones and muffled moans Of a "throng of silent throats. II. Ay, terrible, merry, and mad they say, Though I revel and roll in smiles; But the human race with its pallid face Will hurry asvay from my dread embrace As I dance through the mountain aisles. SHIFTING SHADOWS. III. And well may they fear this timorous tribe, For I fancy a singular toll, And oft as I can from my enemy, man, I snatch a reluctant soul. IV. Then madly I toy with the pitiful clay Which struggled and gasped and died, And into his arms all my treasure of charms I cast like a newly made bride. V. I kiss the warm glory of hair from his brow, And cradle him on my breast ; But his lips are as mute as a stringless lute, And I know that it is but Dead Sea fruit My circling arms have pressed. 1*6 SHIFTING SHADOWS. VI. Then over the rapids and rocks away I rush with my rigid prize, And anchor him deep in an icy sleep, While friends make search and kindred weep, And a maiden sobs and sighs. VII. And finally swollen, bruised, and black, I lift him up on a wave, And heave him aside this mother s pride- With nothing left in the world beside A coffin and a grave. VIII. Ay, terrible, merry, and mad am I When some rude wall intrudes His bulwark gray, as though to say He questioned my queenly right of way Through the mountain solitudes. 147 SHIP TING SHA D O IV S. IX. I flaunt my crest in the face of the sky, And charge with a mighty shriek, And the looming rock gives way to the shock, While echoes fly like birds in a flock From many a polar peak. X. Then over the grinding mass I leap With my flossy hair outflung, And the wind sweeps down to brighten a crown From the wall of granite, broken and brown, By these fierce fingers wrung. XI. Then on and on, with a rush and roar And a shout of victory ! With a mocking wail to the howling gale, And a hiss to the mortals stricken pale, And mute with awe of me ; Forever on to the tender hail Of my love in the solemn sea. SHIFTING SHADOWS. XII. A merry and mad and terrible stream Through a Christian land to flow, With dimples that ride on its scintillant tide, To lure the unwary, as well as to hide Its treacherous undertow. XIII. Be it so ; but still, as the years glide by, I shall gather my ghostly toll ; For I hate the face of the human race, And the slavery of the soul. i 49 "TRANQUILLA." A GROVE of oaks whose green arms interwoven Athwart the grassy lawn their umbrage throw; Imperial plumes and clumps of verdure, cloven By silver missiles from the moon s bright bow, While symphonies, as of some rapt Beethoven, From out the bascage tremble, sweet and low, And like a palace in a veil of foam, Amidst the twilight rises childhood s home. I wander back through avenues of madness, Through dews of disappointment and regret; Through dusky aisles where broods a sweet-eyed sadness Among the dreams she cannot all forget; And out into the phantom realm of gladness And afterglow of suns forever set, Where memory-buds in silent beauty blow Among the evergreens of long ago. SHIFTING SHADOWS. How mightily the Chattahoochee rushes With wondrous contributions to the sea ! How tenderly night s dim and distant hushes The mocking-bird invades with melody ! While virgin roses strew the earth with blushes And jasmines cast their curls from every tree ! For in a spell I fondly muse and float Within the years, the cherished, the remote. Above me Kennesaw is grandly looming, A stately pillar in a billowed plain, The purple of his princely shadow glooming The golden armor of the serried grain, While on his brow the rose of sunset blooming Along the landscape sifts a ruby rain, And one ray-blossom, like a blessing, falls Upon Tranquilla s oak-embowered walls. I stand within my chamber, at whose casement A deep-hued poplar all his glory swings, While here and there, up-creeping from the basement, An ivy leaf its tender message brings SHIP TIN G SHA D OWS. A leaf, like love, that overlooks displacement, And still for coldness but the closer clings- And then I sigh that thus its heart hath grown Like mine about an unresponsive stone. I stand and muse on each familiar token That hangs before me eloquent and mute, Renewing links in life that time hath broken, Out-calling olden chords from passion s lute, And resurrecting vows more looked than spoken, Fair promise-buds that bore no happy fruit ;- I stand and muse, then sadly, one and all, I turn their patient faces to the wall. And then a silver bell s soft note comes stealing Along the darkness wooing unto prayer, And in the dear and sacred circle kneeling I lose the sinking consciousness of care, And only know that love, and faith, and feeling, And constancy are all united there ; While in the world but specters we pursue, And reaching out for roses, gather rue. 152 SHADOWS OF DAWN TO DELL. 1. WANDERING in the gloaming, precious, Under all the stars that mesh us In their toils of light, Wish I fondly thou wert folden To my heart as in the olden, Golden days, to-night. II. Listening to the streams that darkle Down the mountain-ribs, and sparkle With the gems they bear, Dream I that in every floated Murmur from the silver-throated Ripples, thou art near. 155 SHADOWS OF J)AWN. III. Vet tis all a sweet illusion, But a sunbeam s swift intrusion On a grated cell ; Merely incense floated over Cliff and canyon from the clover In a distant dell. IV. So, beside the singing stream, I Linger, dreaming still the dream I Dreamt in days gone by ; Idly dream till morning edges With a rosy rim the ledges Of the dappled sky. V. Ah, the sweet ! and ah, the bitter ! Ah ! the mingled gloom and glitter In the woof of years ! Mountain streams moan disappointment, And a- weary hope no ointment Yields my heart but tears. 156 TO A FALSE CHARMER. EV r ED I thee ? Ah ! twas a fleeting Fancy that beset my mind ; For I find myself repeating, Since my heart is calmly beating, "Coldness was but being kind." Still, the gentle thoughts I bore thee Are abandoned with regret ; And in dreams I still adore thee, Still as foolishly implore thee, Ne er my passion to forget. Castles had 1 built but broken Is the charm which made them fair, And there bides no sign nor token Of our love-tale, looked or spoken, With its vows of empty air. SHADOWS OF DAWN. Deem not that I would upbraid thee, For thou wert to me as just As the mold of nature made thee ; As the fickle thought that swayed thee As a woman to her trust ! 158 FANCIES IN THE FIRE. I SIT and look into the coals ; they seem To languish lazily the while I dream And ponder as the colored gases rise Inflamed before me ; but my poring eyes Can scarce be said to truly recognize The rosy conflagration, for each warm, Ephemeral expression as it flies Athwart the furnace is a face, a form, A picture, and each fleeting jet of flame Some sweetest thought suggests. In idlenes: I thus commune with memory till each same Familiar incident agone doth press Its tender presence. Ah ! I would confess That in this hushed inclosure of the mind A thousand fragrant thoughts and things I find Among the shadows. 159 SHADOWS OF DAWN. As into the waves The diver headlong plunges, and from graves With jewels from the mermaids golden hair Encrusted plucks his booty scattered there, So I into the past, by silence led, Still dreaming, wander, and I gather red And incense-laden memories that grow Above the tombs within the gloaming. Green The grasses are along the path I know So well, and sunny-bosomed doves between The intervals of silence coo, as through The riven cloud-rack falls a gleam of blue In April. But forever vanished now The days that have been, save within the pale Which Love hath thrown around her treasures. Thou Hast known the exercise of soul, and how Love s arms entwine the thoughts that do but sail Along the rim of recollection. So My heart ; but dearer far than all I know A thought, a fairy thought, as clean as snow, And warm as summer twilight when the dew Hath scarce begun to gather ; and to you This gentle thought its sweet existence owes ; I see a bright fair face which ever grows SHADOWS OF DAWN. By gazing on t more fair. I see bright eyes Look into mine, as from the open skies The stars shine on the sea, diffusing light Along the waste of waters and the night; I see since tis a picture little feet Half hidden, half disclosed, that barely reach The carpet ; and bright cheeks as fresh and sweet As tinted morning-glories, while on each Of two rich lips a crimson glory dwells. I feel a timid hand in mine ; that tells The story ! O, the brown hair on the brow ! The yearning, soulful gaze ! To heaven I vow My little one and thee, that at thy shrine Henceforth I worship. Years and years have flown Since first we met, but now with thought alone My mute companion, every look of thine Comes drifting to me from the silent sea, And in my heart I feel, I know, that we Have to each other more than dearly grown; And in the picture-coals rise ghosts of thee, Whose sad eyes look a soft "Come back to me." Would that I might ! If strength of love could bear The burden of a feather in the air, (") 161 SHADOWS OF DAWN. My soul s devotion would so far exceed The love of men that, like a bird, I d speed Rejoicing to thy feet. The hours glide by, The bells throb out eleven, and as die The trembling intonations, and the wind Sighs through the trees, I still can find A sympathetic sadness in the tone A plaintiveness to which my weary mind Can turn, and feel, though lonely, less alone 162 MY SWEETHEART. I HAVE a sweetheart fair to see, With hair as brightly brown As ever curled in Paradise About an angel s crown. Her lips are dewy with delights, And kissed with crimson hue ; And in her eyes are starry skies With love-stars glowing through. And she hath lily hands, I ween, With soft and peachy palms, And, like her lips, her finger tips Are charged with magic balms. 163 SHADOWS OF DAWN. And merry dancing feet hath she That dimple all the lawn, When sunrise hurls his golden curls Unto the blushing dawn. The pink and pearly-throated shell, Which loves the summer sea, No music sighs but that she hies To murmur it to me. And in this wide old wondrous world Our hearts shall still entwine, Until the ivy s flag is furled Above her dust and mine. HER NAME. I HAVE a friend. Her name ? Hard by the rill Between the green flags coursing, birds are singing And caroling her name. The stream which still Upon its happy little breast is bringing Sweet freights of broken blossoms from the hill Whereon the wild-flowers congregate, can tell As well as I. The night wind in the roses Whose fairy wings beat fragrance from the bell Of nodding blossom which at even closes And folds its curtains, whispers, as it flies, The secret of her name. Hast thou not heard A moaning in the pines, whose harps are stirred By spirit fingers? Hast thou, when the skies Are gloamy, and the soulful twilight dies 165 SHADOWS OF DAWN. Away into a starry silence, caught Some soft, delicious symphony of song Unborn of earth, which sweeps and swells along The purple atmosphere ? a music fraught With hints of summer seas, and droning shells, And sweetest violets in dewy dells? These breathe her winsome name; the very rain Which patters on the furrowed window-pane Repeats the soft refrain and yet again, As though by fond reiterance to press A dim suspicion of the loveliness The words imply. Ask of the burnished dove, In sunny dingles murmuring her love, The tender story which I may not tell, The name which violets and roses spell In perfume which the angels in my dreams Unto each other whisper which the streams, O erhung with tangled blossoms coyly trace With mocking waves that write but to erase. Ask of the twilight s purple, morning s gold, But ask not me this fond name to unfold. 166 NEMESIS. I CANNOT sleep to-night ; a shadow dwells Upon the threshold of my chamber door ; A ghostly Presence stalks across the floor In silence, and I feel it sweeping o er My life; while audibly the midnight swells From bells that hang in churchyards, and from bells In belfries everywhere. I cannot sleep ; I hear the rags of gaunt Ill-fortune sweep Along the isolation of my room, And feel the specter in the heavy gloom Infolding me. The stars in one huge shroud Are buried ; and the tears from every cloud Are dripping on my heart. Along the street The lamplights shed a glamour, but the feet 167 SHADOWS OF DAWN. That hurry through the storm no comfort bring Unto my solitude. The leathern wing Of this dark bat which flaps along the wall Is more my true companion now than all The multitude of men. My friends alas ! I have none now had never ! and I pray That in this life again I never may, To kiss the cheek, like Judas, and betray. There was a time when hope that too may pass The butterfly hath turned a creeping thing, And where was erst a rainbow of a wing Is now but rottenness. I cannot sleep ! A dreadful Absence haunts me, and I keep Communion with a Curse whose fingers hook Upon the veil about the future; wide It draws the curtaining, and from the Book Wherein is written all that shall betide, Such dreary passages recites that I, To horror still unused, am in despair, While prophecies involve the choking air, And like to evil things on dark wings fly, [68 SHADOWS OF DAWN. And circle over me. I feel the brush Of spectral pinions beating in the hush About me, and I shudder, though the air Is close, and ever and anon the glare Of lightnings brand the night. O, cruel Fate ! Why to these lips dost thou unkindly press Thy bitter chalice ? Why this desolate, Aweary heart, whose utter loneliness No love assuages, dost thou still delight In torturing ? Why dost thou, in the night, With strange creations hem me, and outpour Upon my racking brain this grim despair ? Alas ! thy bleak wings through my slumbers soar Until I even dream that love, so fair, Is false. There was a maiden from whose eye No guile looked out. Her lips were as the rose, The red, ripe rose, when twilight zephyrs sigh In spring-time, and the golden gateways close Behind the coursers of the sun ; and she So sweet and bud-like in her purity, So like a cooing dove, in one mad hour Enslaved me and the fragrance of the flower 169 SHADOWS OF DAWN. Still haunts me. Ah ! the fevered dream is flown, And I abide in wretchedness alone ; The sport of sad repinings and regrets, The while my heart all other thought forgets, And struggling in the chafings of its chains, But wounds itself, and multiplies its pains. 170 SONG OF LIFE. I. THROB ! Throb ! Throb ! Tis the restless heart s refrain; The burden sad of the ocean s song, Sweeping its fretted sands along ; Tearing the corals and pearls from its caves, Lifting them up on its petulant waves, And dashing them back again. II. Thrill ! Thrill ! Thrill ! And the chalice of bliss runs o er; The nestling head on the heaving breast. Drooping and sinking unto its rest, The while impassioned arms entwine, Awakening ecstasies divine, That ne er were felt before. 171 SHADOWS OF DAWN. III. Throb ! Throb ! Throb ! And the watches vigil keep; The night wind sighs through the cedar s surge, And Death comes in with the ghostly dirge, Closing the eyelids over their glass, And the watchers are mourners, alas and alas ! And the women bow down and weep. IV. Thrill ! Thrill ! Thrill ! And the music palpitates, While happy feet in circles glide, Like flowers afloat on a dimpled tide, Careless of where their feet be cast, so they haply come at last, Through Pleasure s palace gates. V. Throb ! Thrill ! Throb ! O, how the discord swells ! And hope and fear, and smile and tear, Woven together year by year, Daylight and darkness, gloom and glow, Mingled in one weird theme, as though Of bridal-burial bells. STILL WILL I HAPPY BE. I. WHEN in my fairest dreams Visions I see; Each a reflection seems, Loved one, of thee ; For in thine azure eyes, Love like a jewel lies, Shining for me. II. And in my bosom, deep Cloistered aside, Pure as a pearl asleep Under the tide, Only thine image reigns ; No other thought remains Love to divide. 173 SHADOWS OF DAWN. III. And there thy vows so true Sweetly repose, Like starry gems of dew, Clasped by a rose ; And how my fond heart reels With all the bliss it feels, Nobody knows. IV. And when the roses bloom Over my head, Roofing my lowly tomb, Fragrant and red, Still will I happy be, For thou shalt come to me, Come still, though dead. 174 THE FATAL PLEDGE. AONG the beetling crags and cliffs that bowed Their shaggy outline to the chipping tide. And threw their ghostly shadows, dense and dim, Across the distance, sighed the summer wind, And down the aisles of air obliquely swept The fleecy gold of sunset ; far below, The river, like a spectral mirror, threw A weird effulgence on the balmy air Which grew nigrescent momently the while, Upon the topmost bowlder, where the last Rich reach of glory smote the stately trees And drowsy blossoms, Hattie sat with Hugh. The twilight gathered, and the purpling scene Waxed into wild proportions through the haze, And mountains rose like giant obelisks Along the near horizon, for the eye Could trace but wraiths and vagaries. The stars 175 SHADOWS OF DAWN. At silent intervals stole into place, Until in troops and cluster-clouds they wheeled Along the arc of God; and then the flowers Outwafted dreamy incense to the winds, And moonlight hung her royal banner out Above the .scene, while far and faint below, The river sang a lullaby, and rocked Itself to sleep. So Hugh clasped Hattie s hand And cried : " How long, my darling, wilt thou thus The crowning of my love delay ? Thy tongue The temper of thine eye doth oft gainsay, Refuting to my heart the neutral speech Wherewith thou crucifiest me. Then here, Where earth is hushed to rest, and where the soul Throws off the shackles of its destiny, Give thou to me the love still unconfessed, Yet ne er refused ! And, Hattie, shouldst thou doubt, Then gauge my fierce affection to thy choice ! Bid me from this bare battlement to plunge Into the stream which kisses as it cuffs The naked rocks that hem it ! and if I Shouldst falter in thine order s execution, 176 SHADOWS OF DAWN. Then doom me, Hattie, with a cold reply, And send me, groping, in the world to die." The moon hung pale athwart the eastern verge As though to dip behind the purple screen Whence she but now had risen. Not a sound, No stir, save ever and anon the splash Of multitudes of restless waters. Then The maiden said : "My hand is fettered, Hugh; My heart was always thine beats still for thee !" We may not follow tender word and deed Sweet kisses rained on trembling ruby lips, And fond avowals bursting from the heart Like blossoms in the tropics ! They agreed According to their worship, and the stars Looked down and smiled. Then he; "Take thou this ring In token of my faith. In giving it, I pledge my sacred troth to love but thee." She took the stone-crowned circlet from his hand^ And drawing from her finger fair a gem, (12) i 77 SHADOWS OF DA IV N. Gave it to him, and said: "And this to thee In earnest of my love ; and it shall rest With thee, a pledge that I am only thine." She held it forth to him, and as he reached To clasp the precious gift, it fell, and flashed Adown the arching height. There, on a twig, The rayful stone in oscillation hung, Refracting Luna s crescent argency Into a fan of beams a seeming sphere Of flame invisibly suspended ; or A fallen star, which wandering down through space Had poised itself mysteriously bright Within the dripping concave of the rocks. "Wait till I get it, Hattie ! " Hugh exclaimed, As down the grim escarpment of the hill He frantically sprung. Beneath his feet The moonlit rocks were traitors, bounding down Into the dim abyss, when trod upon, With laughter as of scorn. Still Hugh strove on, From danger into peril, till his hand Was reaching out to seize the truant pledge. Then Hattie, from the parapet looked down And saw her lover stretching forth to clasp The ring. She saw him free it from the spray, 178 SHADOWS OF DAWN. And heard him shout: "Now, Hattie, thou art mine! Then as her eager eyes were on him bent, She saw him totter in the ghostly light And grasp the twig on which the gem had shone. She gazed with icy horror on his face, Turned upward in a marble pallor. Then With one proud hand he held the diamond up, The fatal diamond, crying, "Thou art mine !" And so the frail twig parted, and adown The sullen eminence the lover wheeled. "Forever thine !" upon the cliff was heard, And whitely through the night a dress of snow Was fluttering ! a double splash a hush A thousand circles widening on the stream A deeper silence ! and the stars looked down And kissed the dew-tears weeping Night had shed. BELLE. HER eyes are blue, her voice is song, Her hair is silken, brown and long- O, she is passing fair ! And when she smiles, a sunny glow Across each feature flies, Like some rare beam that hies In winter to a drift of snow, And flushing one bright moment, dies In splendor there. Beneath the roses red and rare She gave her life into my care, Gave all her heart to me; And when beneath the mistletoe She standeth at my side, My Beautiful, my Bride, My soul its fullest bliss shall know, Unheedful of the stormy tide On Time s mad sea. 180 HEAVEN S ROSES. I. DEAD of night : the world is sleeping ; Dead of winter: winds are weeping, And a wasted form is keeping Vigil near her empty bed. Here and there a coal is lying In the gloomy grate, but dying, Slowly dying all are dead. II. Poverina sighs ! The chilly Blast will blight the tender lily- Ay, she sighs ; her brother Willie May be frozen in the snow ! And she listens to the whisper Of the weird wind, waxing crisper, In its monologue of woe. SHADOWS OF DAWN. III. Willie all alone is lying In a winding snow-shroud, dying, And the frosty gusts are sighing In the bare boughs overhead ; Willie s heart is hushed ! the whirling Ice-wreaths round his brow are curling Furling, folding o er the dead. IV. Through the broken window wheeling Snow-flakes silently are stealing, And the orphan girl is kneeling Like a marble statue fair ; And a big tear, frozen, flashes On her closed eyes silken lashes In the dip-light s fitful glare. V. How the storm host fiercely marches Through the city s icy arches ! How it twirls the limes and larches At the rich man s, on the hill L 182 SHADOWS OF DAWN. How its ghostly toils are stealing O er the gentle maiden kneeling At the cot-side, chill and still ! VI. Cold the maiden grows, and colder, As the bitter blasts enfold her, In the darksome dead of night ; And a white hand stiffly closes O er the bosom which reposes Heaven is harvesting its roses And her pure young soul takes flight, 183 FAREWELL. I. IS the heart I fondly fancied, Ah ! too fondly fancied, mine, Thus to twine its truant tendrils Round another, newer shrine? Go ! The trellis from the roses Tear, and trail them in the dust ; Let their perfume not detain thee : Get thee gone if go thou must ! II. Dream st thou that a heart is broken Like some handicraft of clay? Think st thou tis a wanton blossom To be plucked and thrown away? SHADOWS OF DAWN. Lady, go thy ways ; the rustle Of thy garments wake a thrill Which no coldness may extinguish, And a hope no fate can still. III. Let us strangers be forever, And the sea our paths divide ; Let the cold world stretch between us If we be not side by side ; Let the music of thy footfall Never scar this heart again ; For the bliss of being near thee Is but servant to the pain. IV. Let us be unto each other As the palm unto the pole, For I cast thee, as an idol, From the temple of my soul ; And howe er in fond illusion To thy shrine my heart hath clung, Twas upon a cross uplifted, Twas a thorn on which it hung. 185 SHADOWS OF DAWN. V. Then farewell ! I loved thee, lady ; Go ! The roses still shall bloom Though their tearful, tangled clusters Trail above Affection s tomb. Not thy hand ! Twere such temptation In its heavenly clasp to die, That my soul had not the courage Nor the care to say good-by. VI. Twas not mine, alas ! to charm thee ; Then how less tis mine to chide ! Still in wild regret I covet All the bliss thou hast denied ; Ah ! thou canst not know the longings Which reflection still must wake, Nor the smothered, choking anguish Of a heart too proud to break. WHOSE IS SHE? THEY stand in the City of Silence, hushed As the white stones strewed around, And the low wind moans through the finger bones Of the skeleton trees in its weirdest tones, And rustles the snow on the ground. They crouch in the dim necropolis With a sinking and solemn dread, And quake with fear that man may appear When never a human is anywhere near, And only the evergreen s plaint they hear Monotonous overhead. Save those mute two no mortal foot On the ominous tryst intrudes, And yet they descry with a fatuous eye Full many a foe in the glooms that lie In the haunted solitudes. 187 SHADOWS OF DAWN. Then silently, swiftly off and away Through the dim white wastes of night, While wide flakes fall on a face and a pall, And a form whose witchery shows through all Its cerements full and white. They bear their pallid prize away, But out of the cedars gloom A sweet refrain steals again and again, As though by reiterance still to restrain The ravishment of the tomb. ***** A fond mother kneels at a snow-heaped mound And bovveth her head in prayer, While standing above her the dead maiden s lover, In tears, as with roses he seeketh to cover The ashes he dreameth are there. And as the hot drops of their grief repeat Swift graves in the drifted snow, They eagerly pray that the soul of the clay, Adorning some star in the distance away, To them may look down in compassion to-day And witness their love and their woe. 188 SHADOWS OF DAWN. " O maiden Inona ! " the lad exclaims, While madly his hands entwine, "Come back to this breast and its weary unrest The sun of my life hath gone down in the west Come back unto me, thou art mine ! " Then out of an old tomb standing by, O er ivied and gray, and grim, The wind breathes low, like the fall of the snow, "She is mine!" and the lover turns quickly to know If man it may be making sport of his woe, But naught can he see save an old sad tree, And the tomb, and the lady by him. Then out from the burial-yard they go, But still in the wailing pine, And in the soft dash of the snow on the sash They listen again to the ghostly refrain, " She is mine ! " A SIGH ON THE AIR. I. THERE is a sigh upon the air, A fading in the leaf. And in this weary heart, a grave Bedewed with tears of grief. There is a loneliness unknown To men I daily greet, Which threads the desert of my soul With weary, friendless feet. II. There is a dream forever flown, A star in darkness set ; There is a bitterness untold In all I would forget. 190 SHADOWS OF DAWN. And from each broken bud that bends In Memory s acre fair, There comes unto this weary heart A sigh upon the air. III. But faded buds shall bloom again When spring s soft breezes blow, And on the grave with tears bedewed The violet shall grow ! What though an idle dream be flown, Or one fair star be set ! It may be some dim -providence To make me happy yet. 191 FAITHLESS. HOW oft my soul hath hung enchained Upon thy wooing tongue, To be by brooding silence pained Or bitter coldness wrung ! Ah me, that in so sweet a lute A string should silent be ! The golden chord, forever mute, That trembled once for me ! If on thy lips a queenly bloom From some bright Eden fell, They caught a treacherous perfume From some dark source as well. Ah me, that lips so richly fraught With passion s mantling morn Could dimple to a happy thought While curled in cruel scorn ! 192 SHADOWS OF DAWN. If rapture rode upon thy glance And love thy look oppressed, The smile but winged an angry lance To pierce my faithful breast. Ah me, that eyes so fondly blue Could melt with tender trust, Or with their icy lightnings strew Life s temples in the dust ! If on my lips the sparkling cup Of love hath shed its dew, The hand which held the goblet up O erturned the chalice too ; If from my life thy voice has brushed Some haunting cares away, The same sweet, ruthless charm hath crushed Its idols into clay. us) YB 12