P S 
 
 3525 
 
 A278 
 
 V35 
 
 1919 
 
 MAIN 
 
 Csj 
 
 >- 
 
GIFT OF 
 
THE VAIL OF MIST 
 
 BY 
 MM. M. McNAM A* 
 
The book entitled "The Vail of M 
 "y ^3. M. M.Na m ar, is a sin 
 Poem paying high tri , Hlte t() thp ^ 
 
 Jerfi.1 natural u,,,,tl, an,] beauty of tl 
 state of Oregon. It is dedicated to th, 
 of that state, and will be fur 
 ** iwatatioa, at reasonable 
 per cent- above coat of producing. 
 
 The regular edition of "The Vail of 
 Mist," of which this is a .Manuscript 
 copy, will be carefully revised and 
 printed on Duchess Bk paper, and 
 neatly bound with heavy book binding 
 paper artistically lith^raphed. 
 
 The p;.em is copyrighted by. Mrs M. 
 McNamar and puplished by 
 
 MCNAMARS, PUBLISHERS, 
 COTTONWOOD, CAUF. 
 
 "Just Muse," - Down Deep in the 
 Woods," "Parodic," and "Other 
 Poems" over sixty Uifi,j selection., 
 by Mrs. M. Mc.Va.nar in one volumn. 
 cloth bound, price II. 00. 
 
THE VAIL OF MIST 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. M. McNAMAR 
 
 AUTHORESS OF 
 
 Just Mue," "Down Deep In 
 The Woods" and l Other 
 Poems." 
 
 DEDICATED TO 
 
 THE SCHOOLS OF OREGON 
 
 McMAMARS, PUBLISHERS 
 COTTON WOOD, CALIF. 
 
 (Copyright 1919) 
 
bin 
 
 SYNOPSIS 
 
 After "Just Muse" first appeared in 
 book form, a reader from the less sunny 
 clime of the great northwest writes attrib 
 uting poetical inclination to the "won 
 derful days and the wonderful nights of 
 beautiful Sunshine Valley," (California) 
 and insinuates that the "misty climate" 
 of the northern state gives less pleasant 
 surroundings and leads to less poetical 
 thoughts. Therefore THE VAIL OF MIST 
 has been written with the Webfoot State 
 as the setting and some of its "misty" 
 beauty protrayed therein. 
 
 To write the poem, a special study was 
 made of the flora of Oregon and only 
 species chosen that appear within its 
 borders 
 
 Time is pictured in the heavier vegeta 
 tion. while "Timid Smile" might be inter 
 preted as meaning: a person, absolute 
 happiness or "just a smile" according to 
 the readers fancy. 
 
Happineta in all her beauty, 
 In her faith and tryst to duty, 
 In youth, in age or in her prime, 
 Stands subject to the call of time. 
 
THE VAIL OF MIST 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 Ye Oregon wonderland of hill! 
 What good spirit came unto thee 
 In that age remote and still 
 And laid the hand of luxury 
 Upon thy brow? Held back no gift; 
 Visited thee with showers of weatlh, 
 Endowed thee as none other 
 Hath been endowed, with verdure 
 Clad, as none other hath been clad. 
 Oregon wonderland of bloom! 
 Whence cometh all that growth? 
 Why select thee as the favored 
 Child, and heap magnificence 
 Upon thee in that day. of days 
 In ancient days, and reserved it 
 For a generation yet unborn? 
 Oregon land of mighty trees! 
 With bearded faces all, and written 
 Father Time s own countenance 
 
Upon their cracked bark, and 
 Hoary too, they * look toward north 
 As if to scorn the rays of Sol, 
 And take delight in shadows cast. 
 They are not shorn by winds, nor 
 Cometh frost or beating elements 
 To take a toll; but gentle rains 
 And MISTS preserves them on for aye. 
 Oregon, know ye where dwells 
 Those good fairies who doth possess 
 The secret of thy blessed state, 
 And reveals it unto one who 
 Queries for a truth so great? 
 What mystic myth of primal day 
 Invaded here and willed that 
 Giant kings of vegetation rule- 
 Even as Sylvanus willed for 
 All the wild Lebanon slope, or 
 Phaeton scorched Sahara s breast 
 And secreted his marvelous 
 Work until this later day? 
 What visions rose before that 
 Path-finder who looked first 
 
 *It is said that the moss on the trees in Oregon 
 grows more luxuriant on the north sides because 
 of the continual shade. 
 
Upon thy draped form, and saw 
 Thea elaborately adorned! 
 E en so the bride awaits her lord; 
 When the appointed hour due 
 Civilization came and claimed 
 Thee as his own. Thou Oregon! 
 
 THE VAIL OF MIST 
 
 A Timid Smile once went to play, 
 
 But it was such a misty day, 
 
 She first must find the Vale of Joy, 
 
 Where pleasure reigns without alloy. 
 
 For Timid Smile, how timid she. 
 
 Frightened as all children be, 
 
 At all imaginative wrong, 
 
 And passes real misfortune on. 
 
 But how could Smile attempt to play 
 
 When it was such a cloudy day, 
 
 Such denseness in that fog and mist, 
 
 Where could the Vale of Joy exist? 
 
 But seeking it she went that day. 
 
 For Smile was young and Smile must 
 
 play, 
 As all things that have wiliy ways 
 
Are baffled not by cloudy days. 
 She knew it must be bright and fair, 
 She sought it here, she sought it there, 
 And every effort did employ, 
 But found it not, the Vale of Joy. 
 S la hurriel through thehaathand hedge, 
 O er moor and hill and slope and ledge, 
 Through forests wild, o er rivers deep, 
 And up the mountain s rugged steep. 
 She tarried in a murky lee, 
 Tarried long and naught did see, 
 But hanging low that vail of mist, 
 Tarried longer, now to wist 
 A face up there in that great tree! 
 The face of Father Time ah he 
 Could tell her ail she needs must know. 
 Why further seek, why further go? 
 Then stepping softly Timid Smile 
 Approached the sanctum, paused awhile, 
 And fearing something knew not what, 
 His unshorn face, she feared that not, 
 Nor giant arms for giant he, 
 His statue formed in that great tree- 
 Feared not the shadow casted down, 
 Like a sundial swinging half around; 
 Feared not his voice or seeing eyes, 
 But feared the wisdom of the wise. 
 
Summoned courage, queried coy, 
 "Pray where is the Vale of Joy?" 
 
 No artifice with Father Time 
 Would cause his countenance to sfattxe, 
 Or pucker mons his furrowed brow. 
 Or move or condescend to bow, 
 Not even to that Timid Smile, 
 Who longed to frisk in play awhile. 
 He cast a glance not up, not down, 
 Abated breath, in voice profound, 
 A breath unfelt and yet was heard, 
 An under breath his every word, 
 A piney breath morendo tone, 
 Breath of winds so lightly blown, 
 Winds another age has known, 
 Known only in that monotone, 
 Winds that ra tripled not his hair, 
 Great coney knots entangled there, 
 Nor bobbed he his mossy chin, 
 A chin all wrinkled much and thin, 
 Chin, so heavily bewhiskered 
 Moving not at all. he whispered, 
 Whispered sweetly, soft and low, 
 "Ask the fairies they know." 
 
 That Timid Smile, how timid she, 
 
 5 
 
Timid as all feminine be, 
 Forgets timidity s precept 
 When cariosity doth intersept. 
 Forgot to fear, forgot reserve, 
 From closer range sought to observe 
 That, shaggy fase unshearad, unshorn 
 By Father Time so grimly borne; 
 Wavered not nor stood in awe 
 Of prestige or tradition s law, 
 Piped a question, coyness lost, 
 To learn the truth so all engrossed, 
 Earnest, no impertinence shown, 
 "Why are you so overgrown?" 
 For questionairs at all not prone, 
 And Father Time was never known 
 To stand for quiz, but Smile did lisp 
 Her question she a will-p- wisp- 
 Forgot himself, and answered "Mist/ 
 Lapsed into silence, Smile dismissed. 
 
 Then Timid Smile a seeking went, 
 to find the fairies all intent; 
 But never once had she surmised 
 Where they lived, and was surprised 
 To find them on the plot of green, 
 More fairies than she d ever; seen*. 
 Right where she, herself would play 
 
 6 
 
If it had been a sunny day. 
 Surrounded all by spruce and yew, 
 Cascadean peaks a peeking through; 
 Fairies, fives and tens and twelves, 
 Dancing there all by themselves; 
 Dancing on mahaia mats, 
 With whispering bells keeping taps, 
 Were tripping lightly all in line, 
 In and through the wild grape vine; 
 (It must have bean the grape-vine-twi^t,,)- 
 And not a step or measure missed. 
 Fairies dressed as fairies do, 
 All in their fancy eostums, too, 
 And never seemed to mind at all 
 If rain and mist did on them fall. 
 It never soiled their fluffy things, 
 Or crumpled up their gauzy wings, 
 Wings, all made of lacy fern, 
 Sprays lapping over all in turn, 
 And trimmed around with fuzzy down, 
 Beneath the pussy-willows found. 
 On their heads were all new fangled 
 Blue and red-bell wreaths that bangtett, 
 On satin-bell skirts were sprangles 
 Of honeysuckle blows and spangles; 
 Their bodices of sassafras 
 Leaves, laced up with ribbon grass; 
 
 7 
 
Was waving each a cat- tail wand, 
 Brought them frorn the near by pond. 
 
 The call for such a festal day, 
 Where all the fairies came to play? 
 Came all the fairies in the land 
 To celebrate a wedding grand. 
 And dancing round with all the rest 
 The bride so beautifully dressed; 
 And never blushed and never bowed 
 But mingled with the happy crowd. 
 On her head a sweet blue-bonnet, 
 With wild pansy blooms upon it, 
 Syringarueh around her neck, 
 No other fairy could bedeck 
 Herself so fine, although they tried, 
 So they let this one be the bride. 
 She stood beneath the mistletoe, 
 And all the fairies loved her so, 
 A Twas sad that they should miss such 
 
 bliss, 
 
 But no one thought to steal a kiss. 
 Th^y had no rice or worn out shoe, 
 So what did those gay fairies do 
 But take pink, manzanita blooms 
 To shower the bride. My, what perl umes! 
 
 The luncheon spread for one and all, 
 
 8 
 
For all the fairies at the ball-- 
 Thimble berries for finger bowls, 
 Two big dew-drops each one holds, 
 Lambs-quarter and sweet wild cherries, 
 Watercress and service berries, 
 Buttercups filled with peppermint, 
 My, what a minty scent that sent 
 Prevading all the atmosphere, 
 Its cells of honey nice and clear! 
 Grandpa-apples all served up 
 To each one in an acorn cup; 
 Deer tongue sliced with mustard seed, 
 And milk drawn from a big milkweed, 
 Into pitcher plants strained and poured, 
 And dipped out with a tiny gourd. 
 Hazel nuts with sugary fill, 
 From the sugar pine on the hill; 
 And strawberries so nice and red, 
 .Never was such a luncheon spread; 
 But not one fairy stopped to dine , 
 From dancing didn t take the time; 
 And none was absent, no not one, 
 Except the groom, he didn t come, 
 (In fairy-land there are no boys, 
 They always put a. stop to joys,) 
 They missed him not, not e en the bride, 
 Johnny-jump-ups on every side 
 Appeared, and peered at fairies all, 
 9 
 
At all the fairies at the ball, 
 And if they cared to they could call, 
 But they were needed not at all, 
 And all was light and all was gay, 
 Although it was a misty day. 
 
 Now wouldn t such a funny sight 
 Put all soberness to flight, 
 And happiness would take* its place 
 And shine and sheen on every face? 
 But Smile just stood there quite amazed, 
 As on this pretty sight see gazed, 
 And no discord her presence caused, 
 Till all the lovely fairies paused 
 Beside her, then she made the query, 
 But not one of them, so airy, 
 Couid tell aught of the Vale of Joy 
 Where pleasure reigns without alloy ; 
 "We know just for ourselves," said they, 
 44 And only know just for to-day." 
 Much abashed that Timid Smile, 
 Who longed to frisk in play awhile, 
 Loitered on the carpet green, 
 Just one other fact to glean, 
 The where and why for all that dress 
 And spread, and who would ever guess? 
 One kindly fairy whispered low, 
 
 10 
 
As if she wanted none to know 
 She told; and said twould not exist 
 Were it not for the rain and mist. 
 
 But Timid Smile could never see 
 Just how all that could ever be; 
 She lingered in a leafy dell, 
 The dewy mist upon her fell, 
 Fell gently, unperturbed and slow, 
 If twas not seen she wonld not know; 
 But felt the power of some one eyeing, 
 Glancing up she saw one spying, 
 His form grotesquely concealed, 
 But the tall hemlock revealed 
 There Father Time, authentic spy, 
 Upon all secrets prone to pry; 
 She was astound that he d perceive 
 Her quandary, and would relieve. 
 But why surprised when Father Time, 
 Who works his will in pantomime, 
 When e re dire measures come to view 
 Consults his annuals, giving true 
 Solution to all that would vex, 
 And clears all problems that perplex. 
 Experience his chief of aid, 
 No event lost, or records fade, 
 Though he has for all ages rung 
 11 
 
Ths death knell, no requiem sung 
 Or pennei for him, but reigning on 
 With day his scepter, night his wand, 
 As old, so old, still ever young, 
 His import spoken by no tongue; 
 Yet Timid Smile as old as he, 
 And Timid Smile will ever be 
 As young; no soberness is worn, 
 But great imagination borne 
 And flung afield, now would employ 
 His council for the Vale of Joy. 
 Again from out the sanctom grave, 
 Singularly this message gave, 
 Gave it softly, sweet and low, 
 "Ask the elfkins, they know/ 
 
 The Smile then hastily did go 
 
 To find the elves, but did not know 
 
 Where they lived, twas hard to find, 
 
 To give up, she had half a mind. 
 
 So disappointed with her lot, 
 
 She lingered in a quiet grot, 
 
 And she would stay if she but could. 
 
 Among the fragrant lilac wood. 
 
 But it was such a rnisty day, 
 
 She dare not stay or try to play, 
 
 But cast about, and there did see 
 
 12 
 
 , 
 
The elves beneath an alder tree. 
 And such a sight, would you believe? 
 Wnat they were playing, if you please, 
 King and CDurt and rule and law, 
 And not a court one ever saw, 
 And not a king one ever knew, 
 So how did they know what to do? 
 But know they did, and would extol 
 Their knowledge of the rigmarole 
 That goes with coronation day, 
 Each and every part could say. 
 No greater scene could ever be 
 Than that beneath that alder tree. 
 The king sac an a prickly pod, 
 And ruled them with a golden-rod, 
 It was the golden rule, he said, 
 That they might all become well bred,, 
 With guards and heralders and dukes 
 And lords, (but none of them were d apes,) 
 You see the elves are only boys, 
 So all the girls had to be toys. 
 A black-eyed-Susan for the maid. 
 (No heed to orders ever paid,) 
 March marigold to be the page, 
 They found it by the spicy sage ; 
 The aid de camp, a real elf, 
 (Of most importance to himself,) 
 Court jester was no foolish clown, 
 
 13 
 
Bat just a great big daff-a-down- 
 Ditty, and it did look silly, 
 Standing there, a yellow lily, 
 Without a move, or word to say, 
 And no attention did it pay 
 To king or court or aid de camp, 
 Indeed, it looked more like a lamp. 
 What do you think they had for queen? 
 No fairer one was ever seen, 
 A lily of the valley stood 
 Right in the place a good queen should. 
 And what a queen, and what a brace, 
 And what a throne those two did grace! 
 Wild morning-glories up side down 
 Were worn for hats, except the crown, 
 And that was just a buffalo bur 
 They found beside a big red fir. 
 The weapon for each guard so bold, 
 How boastingly and proud to hold 
 Shooting stars, and they could shoot 
 Arrows made of arrow root. 
 The trumpeters could call and chant 
 Announcements through a trumpet plant. 
 Their canopies were big mushrooms 
 All topped off with sorrel top plumes; 
 Seating conveniences were found, 
 Toad-stools enough to go around; 
 But not a single elf to pay 
 14 
 
The least he,*] to that rainy day, 
 
 Not e en the queen to stew and fret 
 
 B3cause har gown was damp and wet. 
 
 Bat each duke held a parasol, 
 
 An umbrella plant was all, 
 
 Imagined that it kept them dry, 
 
 The poor-man s weather-glass grew nigh, 
 
 Although it called for still more rain, 
 
 No melancholy* on then came, 
 
 Now Timid Smile, all unannounced, 
 
 Came to the king, and not denounced, 
 
 She pled her cause, but none could bear 
 
 Witness as to when or where 
 
 Or how she d find the Vale of Joy, 
 
 Where pleasure reigns without alloy. 
 
 But said that each and every elf 
 
 Had surely found it for himself. 
 
 When questioned why the mushrooms 
 
 grew 
 
 To over size, the least elf drew 
 The Smile aside, and then dismissed 
 Her with this simple missive "Mist." 
 
 Now all befuddled, Timid Smile, 
 Who longed to frisk in play awhile, 
 
 *The presence of the poor man s weather-glawi i 
 d to brinsr melancholy 
 
 15 
 
Went back to Father Time once more, 
 Found him on Lake Waldo s shore; 
 Visioned in that stalwart oak, 
 Careful lest she might provoke 
 His majesty, but half inclined 
 To think he was of twaddling mind. 
 Twice now he had sent her wrong, 
 Yet imaged there so staunch and strong, 
 Strong for truth and strong for right, 
 For greatest mysteries brought to light; 
 Doubt must flee before his face, 
 Still for a moment held its place 
 Within the heart of Timid Smile, 
 Not to degrees that would beguile 
 Her to design or skepticize, 
 None such as Smile could theorize 
 Or realize Time had the power 
 To limit her that very hour. 
 With hope the ruling element, 
 Pursued the quest with good intent; 
 No artifice did she .employ, 
 "Pray where is the Vale of Joy?" 
 Hark! Was he chuckling? , Nay, ah nay! 
 Twas just a, branch that chance^ ,to sway, 
 Swaying gently, and a fluttering 
 Of leaves in faintest muttering,; 
 Muttering softly, sweet and low, 
 " Ask the witches, they know 
 16 
 
Again th? Smile was put to test, 
 To weigh desire and interest 
 Gainst failure and uncertainty, 
 And asertain integrity. 
 While lingering upon the hill, 
 On Pinhead hill, so steep and still. 
 She came upon the witches three, 
 And pausing there what did she see? 
 Witches all dressed up so grand, 
 Like witches of no other land, 
 And riding too, and did not stay 
 Because it was a misty day. 
 Cared not if ferbelows were spoiled, 
 Just so their pleasure was not foiled; 
 And ne er did witches act like they, 
 So frivolous and light and gay. 
 Powdered up their hooked noses 
 With pollen from the pink wild roses. 
 Their petticoats were all befrilled 
 With redbuds that some bush had spilled, 
 (Because the witches love them so* 
 The redbuds cling to them you know,) 
 And buttoned on with great buff balls, 
 Patched up water leaves for shawls, 
 The pinking iron had been around, 
 
 *A.**)rdinj; to tradition the redbud, sometimes 
 called Judas trees, are the favorite rendezvous for 
 witches. 
 
 17 
 
And every scallop it had found, 
 And seamed so neatly at each gore 
 No one could tell, and each one wore 
 A dogwood blossom for a hat, 
 What headgear could compair with that? 
 Beau catchers too, (but goodness knows 
 Witches never do have beaux,) 
 Forget- me-nots and tulips, too, 
 In button holes a sticking through; 
 And laurel leaves, as if to say 
 They d won the honors of the day. 
 Holding, as their trade requires 
 Scepters made of gooseberrie briers, 
 And crooked too, but goosie folks 
 Like witches do not care for jokes, 
 Therefore they never once did guess 
 How out of line was all their dress. 
 As witch or fairy, one must be 
 In keeping with the place, you see. 
 Steeds, bless you were not merely brooms, 
 But gigantic snow plant blooms; 
 As crimson as the crimsonest, 
 And against those stirrups pressed 
 Lady-slippers, what did inspire 
 Those witches to such gay attire, 
 And gave them mounts that they might 
 
 go 
 
 Way up where lies the summer snow? 
 
 18 
 
Straight for Mount Hood s hooded head, 
 Was aiming there, and on they sped, 
 But never moved a peg, not they, 
 Just mind it was that sped away. 
 And all was song and all was gay, 
 Regardless of that misty day. 
 
 Seems this great sight would then beguile 
 That Timid Smile to smile a smile. 
 She once again forgot the quest, 
 By their garbs so all impressed; 
 She watched those witches at their play, 
 And wondered what on earth to say, 
 Ventured near and voiced her need, 
 The witches gave her little heed, 
 But if they knew they d surely tell, 
 "For," they said "You know quite well 
 We never keep good secrets long, 
 And never tell a thing that s wrong/ 
 But Smile still lingered on the hill, 
 Lingered there a moment till 
 She ask the witch that was in charge, 
 What made the snow plant grow so large. 
 The witch, so very sober now, 
 A serious look upon her brow, 
 She gave her face a funny twist, 
 And leaning near she whispered "Mist," 
 19 
 
Then urged her steed and leaped a mile 
 She thought, and left the Timid Smile. 
 
 Now that was such a sad mistake 
 For one like Father Time to make, 
 Sending Smile to witch and elf, 
 He ought to know the truth himself. 
 She parlied near a crooked crook, 
 A crooked crook of Tillamook, 
 Again she sought the sanctom old, 
 Now trying to appear so bold; 
 Viewed him in that lengthly column 
 Of myrtle wood, it stood so solemn, 
 So solemn and with dignity, 
 That does behest one such as he; 
 Viewed and saw imprinted there 
 The woe and grief and blank despair 
 Of ages that the world has known, 
 And joy and peace and love that s flown 
 Afar, and scattered the sublime; 
 Stamped on the brow of Father Time. 
 Virtues and vice, since morning prime, 
 Stamped on the brow of Father Time. 
 More softly now, she might annoy, 
 "Pray where is the Vale of Joy?" 
 Again,that whisper, sweet and low, 
 1 Ask the pigmies, they know." 
 20 
 
Then Timid Smile went wandering, 
 While wandering was pondering, 
 Pondering what she d seen that day, 
 Wondering if her quest would pay. 
 As it was she chanced to be 
 In Pleasant Valley by the sea, 
 And just as she would turn aside 
 A groop of happy folks she spied. 
 Pigmies all down in the glade, 
 Gathered there to play old maid, 
 And not a maiden there, not one, 
 (I m very sure they wanted none.) 
 Instead they d gathered wild sweet peas, 
 And grooped them up in twos and threes, 
 And each one chose his own bouquet, 
 Now wasn t that a funny way 
 To play old maid? 0, dear me, 
 They sang the Ranzy Tanzy Tee! 
 And left no flower to wilt and fade 
 And pine away as the old maid- 
 Each one thought he had a daisy, 
 (Pigmies minds are always hazy,) 
 Each one felt himself a dandy, 
 And, because they grew so handy, 
 Wore two big dandelions for show, 
 But not a puff of wind to blow 
 Away a dandies empty head, 
 But a heavy fog instead 
 21 
 
Settled down, and than began to 
 Fall a gentle rain, but then who 
 Cared? For although they wara dressed 
 All up in their Sunday best, 
 A little rain would harm them none, 
 And only make for greater fun; 
 Twould brighten up their dusty clothes, 
 And make them handsomer as beaux 
 Sweethearts to those sweet bouquets; 
 Of three sweet-peas in sweet nosegays-. 
 Wearing fox-gloves on their scrawny 
 Hands, and rogue on faces tawny, 
 (Rogue, you know, was all the vogue, 
 They found it by the river Rogue, 
 But never could a river be 
 As roguish as a pig-o-me!) 
 Leopard plant for waistcoats neat, 
 Those dappled leaves could not be beat 
 For coats, but vests they did not need, 
 Neckties, each a wapoto reed, 
 Cadar burs to hold them round, 
 What better tie clasp could ba found? 
 To wear a hat each did refuse, 
 Good gracious, they forgot their shoes ! 
 But they were such a happy lot, 
 No difference what they had forgot, 
 Nothing could put a bun or faze 
 Or curb upon their j oval ways. 
 
 22 
 
Two big buckeyes watched up there 
 From branch to 333 the gama played fair, 
 But not a one would think to cheat, 
 Or care a speck if he got beat. 
 To interupt it seemed a shame, 
 But in this case no one could blame 
 Timid Smile, for diligently 
 She d followed up the quest, you see, 
 And diligence and heedfulness 
 Eventually will meet success; 
 Therefore she summoned courage new, 
 Proceeded then to interview 
 The pigmies on the theme at heart, 
 But not a quay could they impart. 
 Contented all in their own way, 
 And minded not that misty day. 
 When quized about those big buckeyes, 
 What made them so immense in size, 
 Firmly those pigmies did insist 
 The secret of it lay in mist. 
 
 Back to Father Time she hurried, 
 Doubtful now and somewhat worried , 
 Lest that bard be mocking her, 
 His presence in that douglas fir. 
 So gloomy was his form, and dark, 
 His grimy face in that black bark, 
 
 23 
 
Doubted if he really knew 
 Just who it was could tell her true; 
 With all his wise judicious looks, 
 No great amount of wisdom brooks; 
 Regardless of his gift of years. 
 And his high place among the peers, 
 The honor dignity and fame 
 Characterizing his great name, 
 Experience and prestige too, 
 To back his word, and prove he knew, 
 Yet, withal he d sadly blundered, 
 And the Timid Smile now wondered, 
 Wondered if he was always just 
 To the children of his trust; 
 Worthy of exalted praise 
 That the world so proudly gave, 
 And Timid Smile among the great 
 To stand in awe of his high state, 
 Now sought him that he might convoy 
 The quest to find the Vale of Joy. 
 Time once again unconsciously, 
 Gave her a clew, so thoughtlessly, 
 Gave it softly, sweet and low, 
 "Ask the brownies, they know." 
 
 On the banks of Tumalo creek, 
 Diligently the Smile did seek, 
 24 
 
And found one brownie all alone, 
 Down in a glade so overgrown. 
 So overgrown with night shades blue, 
 And poison oak and thistles too, 
 Wild parsnip plants and cancer roots, 
 Stagger brash and rattlesnake shoots; 
 So overgrown with great smart weeds, 
 With wahoo brush and loco seeds. 
 Withal twould be a pretty pass 
 If brownie fell among that mass 
 Of harmful things, but fell he not 
 Their harmful natures he forgot, 
 For he was riding like the wind, 
 And never stopped or seemed to mind, 
 About unpleasant things, or thought 
 Himself alone, or trouble bought. 
 But on he went, and such a steed, 
 It was a tiger lily reed 
 Bended down and he had climbed 
 Upon it and when there did find 
 Such a horse as ne er before 
 A brownie had to travel o er 
 Heath and hedge and bramble brier, 
 He proved himself a galant flier. 
 No saddle nor a reign to grip, 
 No curbing bit or lashing whip, 
 But larkspurs on his pointed heels, 
 (You know a lily never feels) 
 25 
 
Bat brownie never tried to goad 
 His steed along that pleasant road, 
 The road that flatters and decoys, 
 And leads to superficial joys. 
 He thought he was a knight of old, 
 And making for the great stronghold, 
 Yonder in that tamarack grove 
 A rendezvous where robbers clove ; 
 And ne er a brownie rode like that, 
 A feather grass scuck in his hat, 
 And twas a feather in his cap 
 That he cama through with no mishap. 
 Now Timid Smile had witnessed much, 
 Seemed inevitable that such 
 Happy scenes would give the clew, 
 And she would know just what to do. 
 But truth and light cannot exist 
 When shadowed by a "Vail of Mist/ 
 More timid now, this Timid Smile, 
 Who longed to frisk in play a while, 
 Asked the brownie if he d mind 
 To tell where she d be apt to find 
 The secret of the Vale of Joy, 
 Where pleasure reigns without alloy. 
 "The Vale of Joy that is for you? " 
 I know not where, I tell you true, 
 Such knowledge I cannot impart, 
 My Vale of Joy lies in my heart." 
 
 26 
 
But Smile forgot the quest in trend, 
 
 And saw that tiger lily bend 
 And break not under weight oppressed, 
 The secret of its strength not guessed, 
 But asked the why for its great size, 
 The brownie, very much surprised, 
 He motioned Smile to bend and list, 
 While he sDftly whispered "Mist." 
 Then hastened on with greater speed, 
 And gave no thought or further heed 
 To Timid Snile there by his side; 
 He thought he traveled far and wide, 
 But never moved from out his track, 
 The lily bending forward, back, 
 How happy did that brownie feel, 
 To him it was a tiger real; 
 In those leaps and bounds and springs, 
 Declared it beat Pagasus wings. 
 
 Twas such a mystifying thing 
 How mist could cause to be or bring 
 All that wonderous over growth, 
 Quickly Smile forgot them both, 
 Both brownie and the lily too, 
 A weary way she did pursue, 
 Back to Father Time she went, 
 On the quest still so intent, 
 27 
 
Intent to find the Vale of Joy, 
 Where pleasure reigns without alloy, 
 Now Father Time said not a word, 
 Appeared as if he never heard; 
 So still and tall and gaunt and grim, 
 Pictured in the trunk and limb 
 Of a dead pine, and ne er was known 
 A dead pine to as much as moan. 
 Dead and rigid, stiff and cold, 
 (The end of everything we re told,) 
 All fell away his hair and beard, 
 Much more the Timid Smile now feared 
 Lest twas a ghost of long ago 
 To haunt and reprimand her, so 
 She turned and mid a denser haze 
 A familiar sight met her gaze. 
 A sight as old as Father Time, 
 So common too, but most sublime. 
 Tis common things that are sublime, 
 And in the common things we find 
 The seat of all our happiness, 
 And the soul of what will bless; 
 F0r common things are shared by all. 
 And in the sharing blessings fall 
 Anew to all who are concerned, 
 Shared in part, ten fold returned. 
 
A robin came and sat to preen 
 His feathers, when the Smile had seen 
 Him perched upon the nettle bough, 
 And was not nettled tell me how 
 Anything would dare to settle 
 On the needles of the nettle- 
 Robin perched and never seemed 
 To mind, and in his presence gleamed, 
 Gleamed the theory and the theme, 
 The robin ever prone to queme. 
 Then Timid Smile, aweary now, 
 Approached the needle nettle bough. 
 "0 robin, you have traveled through 
 This great land, I beg of you 
 To tell me of the Vale of Joy, 
 Where pleasure reigns without alloy. 
 For I am Smile, I want to play, 
 But this is such a misty day, 
 How can a Smile e er dare to stay, 
 Where all the land is dreary, gray? 
 I asked of Father Time to tell, 
 I thought he d surely know so well, 
 But never knew it, no, not he, 
 But told me other folks to see. 
 I asked the fairies and the elves, 
 They only knew just for themselves, 
 The witches and the pigmies too, 
 And brownie, seemed that no one knew, 
 
But they it was who Father Time 
 Told me was versed along that line." 
 The robin perching on that bough, 
 Perched and listened, listened how 
 That Timid Smile had sought to find 
 The Vale of Joy, and nane was kind 
 Enough to tell her when and where 
 She, herself might enter there. 
 Listened, heeded, barkened well, 
 And then the truth to her would tell. 
 
 "Ho! Father Time is such a sage, 
 Has no conception of the age; 
 Sending you to fairy folks, 
 Why elves and such are only jokes! 
 A wonder that he did not say 
 Lubentia or such as they 
 That lived way back in mythic times 
 When every one had mythy minds. 
 For imaginary things like they 
 On their own imaginations play, 
 Know not che trouble that provokes 
 The lives and minds of other folks. 
 Tis so if one cannot impart 
 The joy that lies in his own heart 
 To others, then a myth is he, 
 And only mythy things will see, 
 30 
 
Hark! This is not a my thy age, 
 
 But an age when truth must wage 
 
 And wedge its precepts into mind. 
 
 That all the world might know its kind. 
 
 Now verily I tell you this, 
 
 The Vale of Joy is not a myth, 
 
 But genuine, and it is real, 
 
 And not a place, but what you feel; 
 
 In everything it is revealed, 
 
 On every face its stamp is sealed 
 
 And every grace it doe^ employ, 
 
 Behold it now, the Vale of Joy!" 
 
 Then robin when his story told. 
 
 Lo! afar the mist had rolled, 
 
 And splendor draped the earth and skies, 
 
 The Smile stood there with opened eyes. 
 
 How could she then help but play 
 
 When it was such a lovely day? 
 
 O er yonder hill appeared the bow, 
 
 In yonder field the sun aglow; 
 
 In every tree and shrub and flower, 
 
 In every nook and leafy bower, 
 
 Visions of that Vale of Joy, 
 
 Where pleasure reigns without alloy; 
 
 And fresh and bright and fair to wist, 
 
 What made it so? THE VAIL OF MIST. 
 
 31 
 
Oaylord Bros. 
 
 Makers 
 
 Syracuse, N. Y. | 
 PAT. JAN. 21 ,1808 | 
 
 I 
 
 
 2027 
 
 U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
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