diff options
Diffstat (limited to '18238-h/18238-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 18238-h/18238-h.htm | 2506 |
1 files changed, 2506 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/18238-h/18238-h.htm b/18238-h/18238-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f61fb7 --- /dev/null +++ b/18238-h/18238-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2506 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Songs of Vagabondia by Bliss Carman and Richard Hovey + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { + margin-left: 20%; + } + + h3 { + margin-top: 2em; + margin-left: 10%; + } + + ul { + list-style-type: none; + margin-left:20%; + } + li { + padding-bottom:0.5em; + } + .smaller { + font-size: 85% + } + .chorus { + margin-left:30%; + text-indent:-10%; + } + + hr { + width: 80%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + text-align: center; + } + + div { + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + + .credits { + font-size: 80%; + text-align: left; + } + + .copyright { text-align: center; + font-size: 80%; } + + + .smaller { font-size: 85%; } + .larger { font-size: 1.5em; } + .giant { font-size: 2em } + .center { text-align: center; } + .right { text-align: right; } + .sub { font-weight: bold; } + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Songs from Vagabondia, by Bliss Carman and Richard Hovey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Songs from Vagabondia + +Author: Bliss Carman and Richard Hovey + +Release Date: April 23, 2006 [EBook #18238] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS FROM VAGABONDIA *** + + + + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Robert Ledger and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions +(www.canadiana.org)) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="center"> + <span class="giant">SONGS</span><br /> + <span class="larger">FROM</span><br /> + <span class="giant">VAGABONDIA</span> +</div> + +<div class="larger"> + <div class="center"> + Bliss Carman<br /> + Richard Hovey + </div> +</div> + +<div class="center"> + Designs by<br /> + <span class="larger">Tom B. Meteyard</span> +</div> + +<div class="center"> + Boston Copeland and Day<br /> + London<br /> + Elkin Mathews and John Lane<br /> + <br /> + MDCCCXCIV +</div> + + +<hr /> + +<div class="copyright"> + <i>Copyright, 1894,</i><br /> + BY BLISS CARMAN AND RICHARD HOVEY. +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="center"> + <i>To H.F.W., for debts of love unpaid,<br /> + Her boys inscribe this book that they have made.</i> +</div> + +<hr /> + + +<h3>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<ul> +<li><a href="#VAGABONDIA">VAGABONDIA</a></li> +<li><a href="#A_WAIF">A WAIF</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_JOYS_OF_THE_ROAD">THE JOYS OF THE ROAD</a></li> +<li><a href="#EVENING_ON_THE_POTOMAC">EVENING ON THE POTOMAC</a></li> +<li><a href="#SPRING_SONG">SPRING SONG</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_FAUN">THE FAUN</a></li> +<li><a href="#A_ROVERS_SONG">A ROVER'S SONG</a></li> +<li><a href="#DOWN_THE_SONGO">DOWN THE SONGO</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_WANDER-LOVERS">THE WANDER-LOVERS</a></li> +<li><a href="#DISCOVERY">DISCOVERY</a></li> +<li><a href="#A_MORE_ANCIENT_MARINER">A MORE ANCIENT MARINER</a></li> +<li><a href="#A_SONG_BY_THE_SHORE">A SONG BY THE SHORE</a></li> +<li><a href="#A_HILL_SONG">A HILL SONG</a></li> +<li><a href="#AT_SEA">AT SEA</a></li> +<li><a href="#ISABEL">ISABEL</a></li> +<li><a href="#CONTEMPORARIES">CONTEMPORARIES</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_TWO_BOBBIES">THE TWO BOBBIES</a></li> +<li><a href="#A_TOAST">A TOAST</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_KAVANAGH">THE KAVANAGH</a></li> +<li><a href="#A_CAPTAIN_OF_THE_PRESS-GANG">A CAPTAIN OF THE PRESS-GANG</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_BUCCANEERS">THE BUCCANEERS</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_WAR-SONG_OF_GAMELBAR">THE WAR-SONG OF GAMELBAR</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_OUTLAW">THE OUTLAW</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_KINGS_SON">THE KING'S SON</a></li> +<li><a href="#LAURANAS_SONG">LAURANA'S SONG</a></li> +<li><a href="#LAUNA_DEE">LAUNA DEE</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_MENDICANTS">THE MENDICANTS</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_MARCHING_MORROWS">THE MARCHING MORROWS</a></li> +<li><a href="#IN_THE_WORKSHOP">IN THE WORKSHOP</a></li> +<li><a href="#THE_MOTE">THE MOTE</a></li> +<li><a href="#IN_THE_HOUSE_OF_IDIEDAILY">IN THE HOUSE OF IDIEDAILY</a></li> +<li><a href="#RESIGNATION">RESIGNATION</a></li> +<li><a href="#COMRADES">COMRADES</a></li> +</ul> + + +<h3><a id="VAGABONDIA" name="VAGABONDIA"></a>VAGABONDIA.</h3> + +<p> +Off with the fetters +<br />That chafe and restrain! +<br />Off with the chain! +<br />Here Art and Letters, +<br />Music and wine, +<br />And Myrtle and Wanda, +<br />The winsome witches, +<br />Blithely combine. +<br />Here are true riches, +<br />Here is Golconda, +<br />Here are the Indies, +<br />Here we are free— +<br />Free as the wind is, +<br />Free, as the sea. +<br />Free! +<br /> +<br />Houp-la! +<br /> +<br />What have we +<br />To do with the way +<br />Of the Pharisee? +<br />We go or we stay +<br />At our own sweet will; +<br />We think as we say, +<br />And we say or keep still +<br />At our own sweet will, +<br />At our own sweet will. +<br /> +<br />Here we are free +<br />To be good or bad, +<br />Sane or mad, +<br />Merry or grim +<br />As the mood may be,— +<br />Free as the whim +<br />Of a spook on a spree,— +<br />Free to be oddities, +<br />Not mere commodities, +<br />Stupid and salable, +<br />Wholly available, +<br />Ranged upon shelves; +<br />Each with his puny form +<br />In the same uniform, +<br />Cramped and disabled; +<br />We are not labelled, +<br />We are ourselves. +<br /> +<br />Here is the real, +<br />Here the ideal; +<br />Laughable hardship +<br />Met and forgot, +<br />Glory of bardship— +<br />World's bloom and world's blot; +<br />The shock and the jostle, +<br />The mock and the push, +<br />But hearts like the throstle +<br />A-joy in the bush; +<br />Wits that would merrily +<br />Laugh away wrong, +<br />Throats that would verily +<br />Melt Hell in Song. +<br /> +<br />What though the dimes be +<br />Elusive as rhymes be, +<br />And Bessie, with finger +<br />Uplifted, is warning +<br />That breakfast next morning +<br />(A subject she's scorning) +<br />Is mighty uncertain! +<br /> +<br />What care we? Linger +<br />A moment to kiss— +<br />No time's amiss +<br />To a vagabond's ardor— +<br />Thee finish the larder +<br />And pull down the curtain. +<br /> +<br />Unless ere the kiss come, +<br />Black Richard or Bliss come, +<br />Or Tom with a flagon, +<br />Or Karl with a jag on— +<br />Then up and after +<br />The joy of the night +<br />With the hounds of laughter +<br />To follow the flight +<br />Of the fox-foot hours +<br />That double and run +<br />Through brakes and bowers +<br />Of folly and fun. +<br /> +<br />With the comrade heart +<br />For a moment's play, +<br />And the comrade heart +<br />For a heavier day, +<br />And the comrade heart +<br />Forever and aye. +<br /> +<br />For the joy of wine +<br />Is not for long; +<br />And the joy of song +<br />Is a dream of shine; +<br />But the comrade heart +<br />Shall outlast art +<br />And a woman's love +<br />The fame thereof. +<br /> +<br />But wine for a sign +<br />Of the love we bring! +<br />And song for an oath +<br />That Love is king! +<br />And both, and both +<br />For his worshipping! +<br /> +<br />Then up and away +<br />Till the break of day, +<br />With a heart that's merry, +<br />And a Tom-and-Jerry, +<br />And a derry-down-derry— +<br />What's that you say. +<br />You highly respectable +<br />Buyers and sellers? +<br />We should be decenter? +<br />Not as we please inter +<br />Custom, frugality, +<br />Use and morality +<br />In the delectable +<br />Depths of wine-cellars? +<br /> +<br />Midnights of revel, +<br />And noondays of song! +<br />Is it so wrong? +<br />Go to the Devil! +<br /> +<br />I tell you that we, +<br />While you are smirking +<br />And lying and shirking +<br />life's duty of duties, +<br />Honest sincerity, +<br />We are in verity +<br />Free! +<br />Free to rejoice +<br /> +<br />In blisses and beauties! +<br />Free as the voice +<br />Of the wind as it passes! +<br />Free as the bird +<br />In the weft of the grasses! +<br />Free as the word +<br />Of the sun to the sea— +<br />Free! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="A_WAIF" name="A_WAIF"></a>A WAIF.</h3> + +<p> +Do you know what it is to be vagrant born? +<br />A waif is only a waif. And so, +<br />For another idle hour I sit, +<br />In large content while the fire burns low. +<br /> +<br />I gossip here to my crony heart +<br />Of the day just over, and count it one +<br />Of the royal elemental days, +<br />Though its dreams were few and its deeds were none. +<br /> +<br />Outside, the winter; inside, the warmth +<br />And a sweet oblivion of turmoil. Why? +<br />All for a gentle girlish hand +<br />With its warm and lingering good-bye. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_JOYS_OF_THE_ROAD" name="THE_JOYS_OF_THE_ROAD"></a>THE JOYS OF THE ROAD.</h3> + +<p> +Now the joys of the road are chiefly these: +<br />A crimson touch on the hard-wood trees; +<br /> +<br />A vagrant's morning wide and blue, +<br />In early fall when the wind walks, too; +<br /> +<br />A shadowy highway cool and brown, +<br />Alluring up and enticing down +<br /> +<br />From rippled water to dappled swamp, +<br />From purple glory to scarlet pomp; +<br /> +<br />The outward eye, the quiet will, +<br />And the striding heart from hill to hill; +<br /> +<br />The tempter apple over the fence; +<br />The cobweb bloom on the yellow quince; +<br /> +<br />The palish asters along the wood,— +<br />A lyric touch of the solitude; +<br /> +<br />An open hand, an easy shoe. +<br />And a hope to make the day go through,— +<br /> +<br />Another to sleep with, and a third +<br />To wake me up at the voice of a bird; +<br /> +<br />The resonant far-listening morn, +<br />And the hoarse whisper of the corn; +<br /> +<br />The crickets mourning their comrades lost, +<br />In the night's retreat from the gathering frost; +<br /> +<br />(Or is it their slogan, plaintive and shrill, +<br />As they beat on their corselets, valiant still?) +<br /> +<br />A hunger fit for the kings of the sea, +<br />And a loaf of bread for Dickon and me; +<br /> +<br />A thirst like that of the Thirsty Sword, +<br />And a jug of cider on the board; +<br /> +<br />An idle noon, a bubbling spring, +<br />The sea in the pine-tops murmuring; +<br /> +<br />A scrap of gossip at the ferry; +<br />A comrade neither glum nor merry, +<br /> +<br />Asking nothing, revealing naught, +<br />But minting his words from a fund of thought, +<br /> +<br />A keeper of silence eloquent, +<br />Needy, yet royally well content, +<br /> +<br />Of the mettled breed, yet abhorring strife, +<br />And full of the mellow juice of life; +<br /> +<br />A taster of wine, with an eye for a maid, +<br />Never too bold, and never afraid, +<br /> +<br />Never heart-whole, never heart-sick, +<br />(These are the things I worship in Dick) +<br /> +<br />No fidget and no reformer, just +<br />A calm observer of ought and must, +<br /> +<br />A lover of books, but a reader of man, +<br />No cynic and no charlatan, +<br /> +<br />Who never defers and never demands, +<br />But, smiling, takes the world in his hands,— +<br /> +<br />Seeing it good as when God first saw +<br />And gave it the weight of his will for law. +<br /> +<br />And O the joy that is never won, +<br />But follows and follows the journeying sun, +<br /> +<br />By marsh and tide, by meadow and stream, +<br />A will-o'-the-wind, a light-o'-dream, +<br /> +<br />Delusion afar, delight anear, +<br />From morrow to morrow, from year to year, +<br /> +<br />A jack-o'-lantern, a fairy fire, +<br />A dare, a bliss, and a desire! +<br /> +<br />The racy smell of the forest loam, +<br />When the stealthy, sad-heart leaves go home; +<br /> +<br />(O leaves, O leaves, I am one with you, +<br />Of the mould and the sun and the wind and the dew!) +<br /> +<br />The broad gold wake of the afternoon; +<br />The silent fleck of the cold new moon; +<br /> +<br />The sound of the hollow sea's release +<br />From stormy tumult to starry peace; +<br /> +<br />With only another league to wend; +<br />And two brown arms at the journey's end! +<br /> +<br />These are the joys of the open road— +<br />For him who travels without a load. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="EVENING_ON_THE_POTOMAC" name="EVENING_ON_THE_POTOMAC"></a>EVENING ON THE POTOMAC.</h3> + +<p> +The fervid breath of our flushed Southern May +<br />Is sweet upon the city's throat and lips, +<br />As a lover's whose tired arm slips +<br />Listlessly over the shoulder of a queen. +<br /> +<br />Far away +<br />The river melts in the unseen. +<br />Oh, beautiful Girl-City, how she dips +<br />Her feet in the stream +<br />With a touch that is half a kiss and half a dream! +<br />Her face is very fair, +<br />With flowers for smiles and sunlight in her hair. +<br /> +<br />My westland flower-town, how serene she is! +<br />Here on this hill from which I look at her, +<br />All is still as if a worshipper +<br />Left at some shrine his offering. +<br /> +<br />Soft winds kiss +<br />My cheek with a slow lingering. +<br />A luring whisper where the laurels stir +<br />Wiles my heart back to woodland-ward again. +<br /> +<br />But lo, +<br />Across the sky the sunset couriers run, +<br />And I remain +<br />To watch the imperial pageant of the Sun +<br />Mock me, an impotent Cortez here below, +<br />With splendors of its vaster Mexico. +<br /> +<br />O Eldorado of the templed clouds! +<br />O golden city of the western sky! +<br />Not like the Spaniard would I storm thy gates; +<br />Not like the babe stretch chubby hands and cry +<br /> +<br />To have thee for a toy; but far from crowds, +<br />Like my Faun brother in the ferny glen, +<br />Peer from the wood's edge while thy glory waits, +<br />And in the darkening thickets plunge again. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="SPRING_SONG" name="SPRING_SONG"></a>SPRING SONG.</h3> + +<p> +Make me over, mother April, +<br />When the sap begins to stir! +<br />When thy flowery hand delivers +<br />All the mountain-prisoned rivers, +<br />And thy great heart beats and quivers, +<br />To revive the days that were, +<br />Make me over, mother April, +<br />When the sap begins to stir! +<br /> +<br />Take my dust and all my dreaming, +<br />Count my heart-beats one by one, +<br />Send them where the winters perish; +<br />Then some golden noon recherish +<br />And restore them in the sun, +<br />Flower and scent and dust and dreaming, +<br />With their heart-beats every one! +<br /> +<br />Set me in the urge and tide-drift +<br />Of the streaming hosts a-wing! +<br />Breast of scarlet, throat of yellow, +<br />Raucous challenge, wooings mellow— +<br />Every migrant is my fellow, +<br />Making northward with the spring. +<br />Loose me in the urge and tide-drift +<br />Of the streaming hosts a-wing! +<br /> +<br />Shrilling pipe or fluting whistle, +<br />In the valleys come again; +<br />Fife of frog and call of tree-toad, +<br />All my brothers, five or three-toed, +<br />With their revel no more vetoed, +<br />Making music in the rain; +<br />Shrilling pipe or fluting whistle, +<br />In the valleys come again. +<br /> +<br />Make me of thy seed to-morrow, +<br />When the sap begins to stir! +<br />Tawny light-foot, sleepy bruin, +<br />Bright-eyes in the orchard ruin, +<br />Gnarl the good life goes askew in, +<br />Whiskey-jack, or tanager,— +<br />Make me anything to-morrow, +<br />When the sap begins to stir! +<br /> +<br />Make me even (How do I know?) +<br />Like my friend the gargoyle there; +<br />It may be the heart within him +<br />Swells that doltish hands should pin him +<br />Fixed forever in mid-air. +<br />Make me even sport for swallows, +<br />Like the soaring gargoyle there! +<br /> +<br />Give me the old clue to follow, +<br />Through the labyrinth of night! +<br />Clod of clay with heart of fire, +<br />Things that burrow and aspire, +<br />With the vanishing desire, +<br />For the perishing delight,— +<br />Only the old clue to follow, +<br />Through the labyrinth of night! +<br /> +<br />Make me over, mother April, +<br />When the sap begins to stir! +<br />Fashion me from swamp or meadow, +<br />Garden plot or ferny shadow, +<br />Hyacinth or humble burr! +<br />Make me over, mother April, +<br />When the sap begins to stir! +<br /> +<br />Let me hear the far, low summons, +<br />When the silver winds return; +<br />Rills that run and streams that stammer, +<br />Goldenwing with his loud hammer, +<br />Icy brooks that brawl and clamor, +<br />Where the Indian willows burn; +<br />Let me hearken to the calling, +<br />When the silver winds return, +<br /> +<br />Till recurring and recurring, +<br />Long since wandered and come back, +<br />Like a whim of Grieg's or Gounod's, +<br />This same self, bird, bud, or Bluenose, +<br />Some day I may capture (Who knows?) +<br />Just the one last joy I lack, +<br />Waking to the far new summons, +<br />When the old spring winds come back. +<br /> +<br />For I have no choice of being, +<br />When the sap begins to climb,— +<br />Strong insistence, sweet intrusion, +<br />Vasts and verges of illusion,— +<br />So I win, to time's confusion, +<br />The one perfect pearl of time, +<br />Joy and joy and joy forever, +<br />Till the sap forgets to climb! +<br /> +<br />Make me over in the morning +<br />From the rag-bag of the world! +<br />Scraps of dream and duds of daring, +<br />Home-brought stuff from far sea-faring, +<br />Faded colors once so flaring, +<br />Shreds of banners long since furled! +<br />Hues of ash and glints of glory, +<br />In the rag-bag of the world! +<br /> +<br />Let me taste the old immortal +<br />Indolence of life once more; +<br />Not recalling nor foreseeing, +<br />Let the great slow joys of being +<br />Well my heart through as of yore! +<br />Let me taste the old immortal +<br />Indolence of life once more! +<br /> +<br />Give me the old drink for rapture, +<br />The delirium to drain, +<br />All my fellows drank in plenty +<br />At the Three Score Inns and Twenty +<br />From the mountains to the main! +<br />Give me the old drink for rapture, +<br />The delirium to drain! +<br /> +<br />Only make me over, April, +<br />When the sap begins to stir! +<br />Make me man or make me woman, +<br />Make me oaf or ape or human, +<br />Cup of flower or cone of fir; +<br />Make me anything but neuter +<br />When the sap begins to stir! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_FAUN" name="THE_FAUN"></a>THE FAUN. <span class="smaller">A FRAGMENT.</span></h3> + +<p> +I will go out to grass with that old King, +<br />For I am weary of clothes and cooks. +<br />I long to lie along the banks of brooks, +<br />And watch the boughs above me sway and swing. +<br />Come, I will pluck off custom's livery, +<br />Nor longer be a lackey to old Time. +<br />Time shall serve me, and at my feet shall fling +<br />The spoil of listless minutes. I shall climb +<br />The wild trees for my food, and run +<br />Through dale and upland as a fox runs free, +<br />Laugh for cool joy and sleep i' the warm sun, +<br />And men will call me mad, like that old King. +<br /> +<br />For I am woodland-natured, and have made +<br />Dryads my bedfellows, +<br />And I have played +<br />With the sleek Naiads in the splash of pools +<br />And made a mock of gowned and trousered fools. +<br />Helen, none knows +<br />Better than thou how like a Faun I strayed. +<br />And I am half Faun now, and my heart goes +<br />Out to the forest and the crack of twigs, +<br />The drip of wet leaves and the low soft laughter +<br />Of brooks that chuckle o'er old mossy jests +<br />And say them over to themselves, the nests +<br />Of squirrels and the holes the chipmunk digs, +<br />Where through the branches the slant rays +<br />Dapple with sunlight the leaf-matted ground, +<br />And the wind comes with blown vesture rustling after, +<br />And through the woven lattice of crisp sound +<br />A bird's song lightens like a maiden's face. +<br /> +<br />O wildwood Helen, let them strive and fret, +<br />Those goggled men with their dissecting-knives! +<br /> +<br />Let them in charnel-houses pass their lives +<br />And seek in death life's secret! And let +<br />Those hard-faced worldlings prematurely old +<br />Gnaw their thin lips with vain desire to get +<br />Portia's fair fame or Lesbia's carcanet, +<br />Or crown of Caesar or Catullus, +<br />Apicius' lampreys or Crassus' gold! +<br />For these consider many things—but yet +<br />By land nor sea +<br />They shall not find the way to Arcady, +<br />The old home of the awful heart-dear Mother, +<br />Whereto child-dreams and long rememberings lull us, +<br />Far from the cares that overlay and smother +<br />The memories of old woodland out-door mirth +<br />In the dim first life-burst centuries ago, +<br />The sense of the freedom and nearness of Earth— +<br />Nay, this they shall not know; +<br />For who goes thither, +<br />Leaves all the cark and clutch of his soul behind, +<br />The doves defiled and the serpents shrined, +<br />The hates that wax and the hopes that wither; +<br />Nor does he journey, seeking where it be, +<br />But wakes and finds himself in Arcady. +<br /> +<br />Hist! there's a stir in the brush. +<br />Was it a face through the leaves? +<br />Back of the laurels a skurry and rush +<br />Hillward, then silence except for the thrush +<br />That throws one song from the dark of the bush +<br />And is gone; and I plunge in the wood, and the swift soul cleaves +<br />Through the swirl and the flow of the leaves, +<br />As a swimmer stands with his white limbs bare to the sun +<br />For the space that a breath is held, and drops in the sea; +<br />And the undulant woodland folds round me, intimate, fluctuant, free, +<br />Like the clasp and the cling of waters, and the reach and the effort is done,— +<br />There is only the glory of living, exultant to be. +<br /> +<br />O goodly damp smell of the ground! +<br />O rough sweet bark of the trees! +<br />O clear sharp cracklings of sound! +<br />O life that's a-thrill and a-bound +<br />With the vigor of boyhood and morning, and the noontide's rapture of ease! +<br />Was there ever a weary heart in the world? +<br />A lag in the body's urge or a flag of the spirit's wings? +<br />Did a man's heart ever break +<br />For a lost hope's sake? +<br />For here there is lilt in the quiet and calm in the quiver of things. +<br />Ay, this old oak, gray-grown and knurled, +<br />Solemn and sturdy and big, +<br />Is as young of heart, as alert and elate in his rest, +<br />As the nuthatch there that clings to the tip of the twig +<br />And scolds at the wind that it buffets too rudely its nest. +<br /> +<br />Oh, what is it breathes in the air? +<br />Oh, what is it touches my cheek? +<br />There's a sense of a presence that lurks in the branches. +<br />But where? +<br />Is it far, is it far to seek? +</p> + + +<h3><a id="A_ROVERS_SONG" name="A_ROVERS_SONG"></a>A ROVER'S SONG.</h3> + +<p> +Snowdrift of the mountains, +<br />Spindrift of the sea, +<br />We who down the border +<br />Rove from gloom to glee,— +<br /> +<br />Snowdrift of the mountains, +<br />Spindrift of the sea, +<br />There be no such gypsies +<br />Over earth as we. +<br /> +<br />Snowdrift of the mountains, +<br />Spindrift of the sea, +<br />Let us part the treasure +<br />Of the world in three. +<br /> +<br />Snowdrift of the mountains, +<br />Spindrift of the sea, +<br />You shall keep your kingdoms; +<br />Joscelyn for me! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="DOWN_THE_SONGO" name="DOWN_THE_SONGO"></a>DOWN THE SONGO.</h3> + +<p> +<span class='sub'>I.</span> +<br /> +<br />Floating! +<br />Floating—and all the stillness waits +<br />And listens at the ivory gates, +<br />Full of a dim uncertain presage +<br />Of some strange, undelivered message. +<br />There is no sound save from the bush +<br />The alto of the shy wood-thrush, +<br />And ever and anon the dip +<br />Of a lazy oar. +<br /> +<br />The rhythmic drowsiness keeps time +<br />To hazy subtleties of rhyme +<br />That seem to slip +<br />Through the lulled soul to seek the sleepy shore. +<br />The idle clouds go floating by; +<br />Above us sky, beneath us sky; +<br />The sun shines on us as we lie +<br />Floating. +<br /> +<br />It is a dream. +<br />It is a dream, my love; see how +<br />The ripples quiver at the prow, +<br />And all the long reflections shake +<br />Unsteadily beneath the lake. +<br />The mists about the uplands show +<br />Dim violet towers that come and go. +<br />Phantasmagoric palaces +<br />Rise trembling there, +<br />As though one breath of waking weather +<br />Would crash their airy walls together +<br />With sudden stress, +<br />While silent detonations shook the air— +<br />Vast fabrics toppling to the ground +<br />And vanishing without a sound. +<br />Ah, love, these are not what we deem; +<br />It is a dream. +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='sub'>II.</span> +<br /> +<br />Let us dream on, then,——dream and die +<br />Ere the dream pass. +<br />Let us for once, like idle flowers, +<br />Let slip the unregarded hours, +<br />Like the wise flowers that lie +<br />Unfretted by a feeble thought, +<br />Future and past alike forgot, +<br />Drinking the dew contentedly +<br />In the cool grass. +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='sub'>III.</span> +<br /> +<br />Look yonder where the clouds float; could we glide +<br />As they, across the sky's blue shoreless tide, +<br />What better were it than to dream +<br />Across yon lake and into this still stream? +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='sub'>IV.</span> +<br /> +<br />Trees and a glimpse of sky! +<br />And the slow river, quiet as a pool! +<br />And thou and I—and thou and I— +<br />Kiss me! How soft the air is and how cool! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_WANDER-LOVERS" name="THE_WANDER-LOVERS"></a>THE WANDER-LOVERS.</h3> + +<p> +Down the world with Marna! +<br />That's the life for me! +<br />Wandering with the wandering wind, +<br />Vagabond and unconfined! +<br />Roving with the roving rain +<br />Its unboundaried domain! +<br />Kith and kin of wander-kind, +<br />Children of the sea! +<br /> +<br />Petrels of the sea-drift! +<br />Swallows of the lea! +<br />Arabs of the whole wide girth +<br />Of the wind-encircled earth! +<br />In all climes we pitch our tents, +<br />Cronies of the elements, +<br />With the secret lords of birth +<br />Intimate and free. +<br /> +<br />All the seaboard knows us +<br />From Fundy to the Keys; +<br />Every bend and every creek +<br />Of abundant Chesapeake; +<br />Ardise hills and Newport coves +<br />And the far-off orange groves, +<br />Where Floridian oceans break, +<br />Tropic tiger seas. +<br /> +<br />Down the world with Marna, +<br />Tarrying there and here! +<br />Just as much at home in Spain +<br />As in Tangier or Touraine! +<br />Shakespeare's Avon knows us well, +<br />And the crags of Neufchâtel; +<br />And the ancient Nile is fain +<br />Of our coming near. +<br /> +<br />Down the world with Marna, +<br />Daughter of the air! +<br />Marna of the subtle grace, +<br />And the vision in her face! +<br />Moving in the measures trod +<br />By the angels before God! +<br />With her sky-blue eyes amaze +<br />And her sea-blue hair! +<br /> +<br />Marna with the trees' life +<br />In her veins a-stir! +<br />Marna of the aspen heart +<br />Where the sudden quivers start! +<br />Quick-responsive, subtle, wild! +<br />Artless as an artless child, +<br />Spite of all her reach of art! +<br />Oh, to roam with her! +<br /> +<br />Marna with the wind's will, +<br />Daughter of the sea! +<br />Marna of the quick disdain, +<br />Starting at the dream of stain! +<br />At a smile with love aglow, +<br />At a frown a statued woe, +<br />Standing pinnacled in pain +<br />Till a kiss sets free! +<br /> +<br />Down the world with Marna, +<br />Daughter of the fire! +<br />Marna of the deathless hope, +<br />Still alert to win new scope +<br />Where the wings of life may spread +<br />For a flight unhazarded! +<br />Dreaming of the speech to cope +<br />With the heart's desire! +<br /> +<br />Marna of the far quest +<br />After the divine! +<br />Striving ever for some goal +<br />Past the blunder-god's control! +<br />Dreaming of potential years +<br />When no day shall dawn in fears! +<br />That's the Marna of my soul, +<br />Wander-bride of mine! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="DISCOVERY" name="DISCOVERY"></a>DISCOVERY.</h3> + +<p> +When the bugler morn shall wind his horn, +<br />And we wake to the wild to be, +<br />Shall we open our eyes on the selfsame skies +<br />And stare at the selfsame sea? +<br />O new, new day! though you bring no stay +<br />To the strain of the sameness grim, +<br />You are new, new, new—new through and through, +<br />And strange as a lawless dream. +<br /> +<br />Will the driftwood float by the lonely boat +<br />And our prisoner hearts unbar, +<br />As it tells of the strand of an unseen land +<br />That lies not far, not far? +<br />O new, new hope! O sweep and scope +<br />Of the glad, unlying sea! +<br />You are new, new, new—with the promise true +<br />Of the dreamland isles to be. +<br /> +<br />Will the land-birds fly across the sky, +<br />Though the land is not to see? +<br />Have they dipped and passed in the sea-line vast? +<br />Have we left the land a-lee? +<br />O new despair! I though the hopeless air +<br />Grow foul with the calm and grieves, +<br />You are new, new, new—and we cleave to you +<br />As a soul to its freedom cleaves. +<br /> +<br />Does the falling night hide fiends to fight +<br />And phantoms to affray? +<br />What demons lurk in the grisly mirk, +<br />As the night-watch waits for day? +<br />O strange new gloom! we await the doom, +<br />And what doom none may deem; +<br />But it's new, new, new—and we'll sail it through, +<br />While the mocking sea-gulls scream. +<br /> +<br />A light, a light, in the dead of night, +<br />That lifts and sinks in the waves! +<br />What folk are they who have kindled its ray,— +<br />Men or the ghouls of graves? +<br />O new, new fear! near, near and near, +<br />And you bear us weal or woe! +<br />But you're new, new, new—so a cheer for you! +<br />And onward—friend or foe! +<br /> +<br />Shall the lookout call from the foretop tall, +<br />"Land, land!" with a maddened scream, +<br />And the crew in glee from the taffrail see +<br />Where the island palm-trees dream? +<br />New heart, new eyes! For the morning skies +<br />Are a-chant with their green and gold! +<br />New, new, new, new—new through and through! +<br />New, new till the dawn is old! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="A_MORE_ANCIENT_MARINER" name="A_MORE_ANCIENT_MARINER"></a>A MORE ANCIENT MARINER.</h3> + +<p> +The swarthy bee is a buccaneer, +<br />A burly velveted rover, +<br />Who loves the booming wind in his ear +<br />As he sails the seas of clover. +<br /> +<br />A waif of the goblin pirate crew, +<br />With not a soul to deplore him, +<br />He steers for the open verge of blue +<br />With the filmy world before him. +<br /> +<br />His flimsy sails abroad on the wind +<br />Are shivered with fairy thunder; +<br />On a line that sings to the light of his wings +<br />He makes for the lands of wonder. +<br /> +<br />He harries the ports of the Hollyhocks, +<br />And levies on poor Sweetbrier; +<br />He drinks the whitest wine of Phlox, +<br />And the Rose is his desire. +<br /> +<br />He hangs in the Willows a night and a day; +<br />He rifles the Buckwheat patches; +<br />Then battens his store of pelf galore +<br />Under the tautest hatches. +<br /> +<br />He woos the Poppy and weds the Peach, +<br />Inveigles Daffodilly, +<br />And then like a tramp abandons each +<br />For the gorgeous Canada Lily. +<br /> +<br />There's not a soul in the garden world +<br />But wishes the day were shorter, +<br />When Mariner B. puts out to sea +<br />With the wind in the proper quarter. +<br /> +<br />Or, so they say! But I have my doubts; +<br />For the flowers are only human, +<br />And the valor and gold of a vagrant bold +<br />Were always dear to woman. +<br /> +<br />He dares to boast, along the coast, +<br />The beauty of Highland Heather,— +<br />How he and she, with night on the sea, +<br />Lay out on the hills together. +<br /> +<br />He pilfers from every port of the wind, +<br />From April to golden autumn; +<br />But the thieving ways of his mortal days +<br />Are those his mother taught him. +<br /> +<br />His morals are mixed, but his will is fixed; +<br />He prospers after his kind, +<br />And follows an instinct, compass-sure, +<br />The philosophers call blind. +<br /> +<br />And that is why, when he comes to die, +<br />He'll have an easier sentence +<br />Than some one I know who thinks just so, +<br />And then leaves room for repentance. +<br /> +<br />He never could box the compass round; +<br />He doesn't know port from starboard; +<br />But he knows the gates of the Sundown Straits, +<br />Where the choicest goods are harbored. +<br /> +<br />He never could see the Rule of Three, +<br />But he knows a rule of thumb +<br />Better than Euclid's, better than yours, +<br />Or the teachers' yet to come. +<br /> +<br />He knows the smell of the hydromel +<br />As if two and two were five; +<br />And hides it away for a year and a day +<br />In his own hexagonal hive. +<br /> +<br />Out in the day, hap-hazard, alone, +<br />Booms the old vagrant hummer, +<br />With only his whim to pilot him +<br />Through the splendid vast of summer. +<br /> +<br />He steers and steers on the slant of the gale, +<br />Like the fiend or Vanderdecken; +<br />And there's never an unknown course to sail +<br />But his crazy log can reckon. +<br /> +<br />He drones along with his rough sea-song +<br />And the throat of a salty tar, +<br />This devil-may-care, till he makes his lair +<br />By the light of a yellow star. +<br /> +<br />He looks like a gentleman, lives like a lord, +<br />And works like a Trojan hero; +<br />Then loafs all winter upon his hoard, +<br />With the mercury at zero. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="A_SONG_BY_THE_SHORE" name="A_SONG_BY_THE_SHORE"></a>A SONG BY THE SHORE.</h3> + +<p> +"Lose and love" is love's first art; +<br />So it was with thee and me, +<br />For I first beheld thy heart +<br />On the night I last saw thee. +<br />Pine-woods and mysteries! +<br />Sea-sands and sorrows! +<br />Hearts fluttered by a breeze +<br />That bodes dark morrows, morrows,— +<br />Bodes dark morrows! +<br /> +<br />Moonlight in sweet overflow +<br />Poured upon the earth and sea! +<br />Lovelight with intenser glow +<br />In the deeps of thee and me! +<br />Clasped hands and silences! +<br />Hearts faint and throbbing! +<br />The weak wind sighing in the trees! +<br />The strong surf sobbing, sobbing,— +<br />The strong surf sobbing! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="A_HILL_SONG" name="A_HILL_SONG"></a>A HILL SONG.</h3> + +<p> +Hills where once my love and I +<br />Let the hours go laughing by! +<br />All your woods and dales are sad,— +<br />You have lost your Oread. +<br />Falling leaves! Silent woodlands! +<br />Half your loveliness is fled. +<br />Golden-rod, wither now! +<br />Winter winds, come hither now! +<br />All the summer joy is dead. +<br /> +<br />There's a sense of something gone +<br />In the grass I linger on. +<br />There's an under-voice that grieves +<br />In the rustling of the leaves. +<br />Pine-clad peaks! Rushing waters! +<br />Glens where we were once so glad! +<br />There's a light passed from you, +<br />There's a joy outcast from you,— +<br />You have lost your Oread. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="AT_SEA" name="AT_SEA"></a>AT SEA.</h3> + +<p> +As a brave man faces the foe, +<br />Alone against hundreds, and sees Death grin in his teeth, +<br />But, shutting his lips, fights on to the end +<br />Without speech, without hope, without flinching,— +<br />So, silently, grimly, the steamer +<br />Lurches ahead through the night. +<br /> +<br />A beacon-light far off, +<br />Twinkling across the waves like a star! +<br />But no star in the dark overhead! +<br />The splash of waters at the prow, and the evil light +<br />Of the death-fires flitting like will-o'-the-wisps beneath! And beyond +<br />Silence and night! +<br /> +<br />I sit by the taffrail, +<br />Alone in the dark and the blown cold mist and the spray, +<br />Feeling myself swept on irresistibly, +<br />Sunk in the night and the sea, and made one with their footfall-less onrush, +<br />Letting myself be borne like a spar adrift +<br />Helplessly into the night. +<br /> +<br />Without fear, without wish, +<br />Insensate save of a dull, crushed ache in my heart, +<br />Careless whither the steamer is going, +<br />Conscious only as in a dream of the wet and the dark +<br />And of a form that looms and fades indistinctly +<br />Everywhere out of the night. +<br /> +<br />O love, how came I here? +<br />Shall I wake at thy side and smile at my dream? +<br />The dream that grips me so hard that I cannot wake nor stir! +<br />O love! O my own love, found but to be lost! +<br />My soul sends over the waters a wild inarticulate cry, +<br />Like a gull's scream heard in the night. +<br /> +<br />The mist creeps closer. The beacon +<br />Vanishes astern. The sea's monotonous noises +<br />Lapse through the drizzle with a listless, subsiding cadence. +<br />And thou, O love, and the sea throb on in my brain together, +<br />While the steamer plunges along, +<br />Butting its way through the night. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="ISABEL" name="ISABEL"></a>ISABEL.</h3> + +<p> +In her body's perfect sweet +<br />Suppleness and languor meet,— +<br />Arms that move like lapsing billows, +<br />Breasts that Love would make his pillows, +<br />Eyes where vision melts in bliss, +<br />Lips that ripen to a kiss. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="CONTEMPORARIES" name="CONTEMPORARIES"></a>CONTEMPORARIES.</h3> + +<p> +"A barbered woman's man,"—yes, so +<br />He seemed to me a twelvemonth since; +<br />And so he may be—let it go— +<br />Admit his flaws—we need not wince +<br />To find our noblest not all great. +<br />What of it? He is still the prince, +<br />And we the pages of his state. +<br /> +<br />The world applauds his words; his fame +<br />Is noised wherever knowledge be; +<br />Even the trader hears his name, +<br />As one far inland hears the sea; +<br />The lady quotes him to the beau +<br />Across a cup of Russian tea; +<br />They know him and they do not know. +<br /> +<br />I know him. In the nascent years +<br />Men's eyes shall see him as one crowned; +<br />His voice shall gather in their ears +<br />With each new age prophetic sound; +<br />And you and I and all the rest, +<br />Whose brows to-day are laurel-bound, +<br />Shall be but plumes upon his crest. +<br /> +<br />A year ago this man was poor,— +<br />This Alfred whom the nations praise; +<br />He stood a beggar at my door +<br />For one mere word to help him raise +<br />From fainting limbs and shoulders bent +<br />The burden of the weary days; +<br />And I withheld it—and he went. +<br /> +<br />I knew him then, as I know now, +<br />Our largest heart, our loftiest mind; +<br />Yet for the curls upon his brow +<br />And for his lisp, I could not find +<br />The helping word, the cheering touch. +<br />Ah, to be just, as well as kind,— +<br />It costs so little and so much! +<br /> +<br />It seemed unmanly in my sight +<br />That he, whose spirit was so strong +<br />To lead the blind world to the light, +<br />Should look so like the mincing throng +<br />Who advertise the tailor's art. +<br />It angered me—I did him wrong— +<br />I grudged my groat and shut my heart. +<br /> +<br />I might have been the prophet's friend, +<br />Helped him who is to help the world! +<br />Now, when the striving is at end, +<br />The reek-stained battle-banners furled, +<br />And the age hears its muster-call, +<br />Then I, because his hair was curled, +<br />I shall have lost my chance—that's all. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_TWO_BOBBIES" name="THE_TWO_BOBBIES"></a>THE TWO BOBBIES.</h3> + +<p> +Bobbie Burns and Bobbie Browning, +<br />They're the boys I'd like to see. +<br />Though I'm not the boy for Bobbie, +<br />Bobbie is the boy for me! +<br /> +<br />Bobbie Browning was the good boy; +<br />Turned the language inside out, +<br />Wrote his plays and had his days, +<br />Died—and held his peace, no doubt. +<br /> +<br />Poor North Bobbie was the bad boy,— +<br />Bad, bad, bad, bad Bobbie Burns! +<br />Loved and made the world his lover, +<br />Kissed and barleycomed by turns. +<br /> +<br />London's dweller, child of wisdom, +<br />Kept his counsel, took his toll; +<br />Ayrshire's vagrant paid the piper, +<br />Lost the game—God save his soul! +<br /> +<br />Bobbie Burns and Bobbie Browning, +<br />What's the difference, you see? +<br />Bob the lover, Bob the lawyer; +<br />Bobbie is the boy for me! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="A_TOAST" name="A_TOAST"></a>A TOAST.</h3> + +<p> +Here's a health to thee, Roberts, +<br />And here's a health to me; +<br />And here's to all the pretty girls +<br />From Denver to the sea! +<br /> +<br />Here's to mine and here's to thine! +<br />Now's the time to clink it! +<br />Here's a flagon of old wine, +<br />And here are we to drink it. +<br /> +<br />Wine that maketh glad the heart +<br />Of the bully boy! +<br />Here's the toast that we love most, +<br />"Love and song and joy!" +<br /> +<br />Song that is the flower of love, +<br />And joy that is the fruit! +<br />Here's the love of woman, lad, +<br />And here's our love to boot! +<br /> +<br />You and I are far too wise +<br />Not to fill our glasses. +<br />Here's to me and here's to thee, +<br />And here's to all the lasses! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_KAVANAGH" name="THE_KAVANAGH"></a>THE KAVANAGH.</h3> + +<p> +A stone jug and a pewter mug, +<br />And a table set for three! +<br />A jug and a mug at every place, +<br />And a biscuit or two with Brie! +<br />Three stone jugs of Cruiskeen Lawn, +<br />And a cheese like crusted foam! +<br />The Kavanagh receives to-night! +<br />McMurrough is at home! +<br /> +<br />We three and the barley-bree! +<br />And a health to the one away, +<br />Who drifts down careless Italy, +<br />God's wanderer and estray! +<br />For friends are more than Arno's store +<br />Of garnered charm, and he +<br />Were blither with us here the night +<br />Than Titian bids him be. +<br /> +<br />Throw ope the window to the stars, +<br />And let the warm night in! +<br />Who knows what revelry in Mars +<br />May rhyme with rouse akin? +<br />Fill up and drain the loving cup +<br />And leave no drop to waste! +<br />The moon looks in to see what's up— +<br />Begad, she'd like a taste! +<br /> +<br />What odds if Leinster's kingly roll +<br />Be now an idle thing? +<br />The world is his who takes his toll, +<br />A vagrant or a king. +<br />What though the crown be melted down, +<br />And the heir a gypsy roam? +<br />The Kavanagh receives to-night! +<br />McMurrough is at home! +<br /> +<br />We three and the barley-bree! +<br />And the moonlight on the floor! +<br />Who were a man to do with less? +<br />What emperor has more? +<br />Three stone jugs of Cruiskeen Lawn, +<br />And three stout hearts to drain +<br />A slanter to the truth in the heart of youth +<br />And the joy of the love of men. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="A_CAPTAIN_OF_THE_PRESS-GANG" name="A_CAPTAIN_OF_THE_PRESS-GANG"></a>A CAPTAIN OF THE PRESS-GANG.</h3> + +<p> +Shipmate, leave the ghostly shadows, +<br />Where thy boon companions throng! +<br />We will put to sea together +<br />Through the twilight with a song. +<br /> +<br />Leering closer, rank and girding, +<br />In this Black Port where we bide, +<br />Reel a thousand flaring faces; +<br />But escape is on the tide. +<br /> +<br />Let the tap-rooms of the city +<br />Reek till the red dawn comes round. +<br />There is better wine in plenty +<br />On the cruise where we are bound. +<br /> +<br />I've aboard a hundred messmates +<br />Better than these 'long-shore knaves. +<br />There is wreckage on the shallows; +<br />It's the open sea that saves. +<br /> +<br />Hark, lad, dost not hear it calling? +<br />That's the voice thy father knew, +<br />When he took the King's good cutlass +<br />In his grip, and fought it through. +<br /> +<br />Who would palter at press-money +<br />When he heard that sea-cry vast? +<br />That's the call makes lords of lubbers, +<br />When they ship before the mast. +<br /> +<br />Let thy cronies of the tavern +<br />Keep their kisses bought with gold; +<br />On the high seas there are regions +<br />Where the heart is never old, +<br /> +<br />Where the great winds every morning +<br />Sweep the sea-floor clean and white, +<br />And upon the steel-blue arches +<br />Burnish the great stars of night; +<br /> +<br />There the open hand will lose not, +<br />Nor the loosened tongue betray. +<br />Signed, and with our sailing orders, +<br />We will clear before the day; +<br /> +<br />On the shining yards of heaven +<br />See a wider dawn unfurled.... +<br />The eternal slaves of beauty +<br />Are the masters of the world. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_BUCCANEERS" name="THE_BUCCANEERS"></a>THE BUCCANEERS.</h3> + +<p> +Oh, not for us the easy mirth +<br />Of men that never roam! +<br />The crackling of the narrow hearth, +<br />The cabined joys of home! +<br />Keep your tame, regulated glee, +<br />O pale protected State! +<br />Our dwelling-place is on the sea, +<br />Our joy the joy of Fate! +<br /> +<br />No long caresses give us ease, +<br />No lazy languors warm, +<br />We seize our mates as the sea-gulls seize, +<br />And leave them to the storm. +<br />But in the bridal halls of gloom +<br />The couch is stern and strait; +<br />For us the marriage rite of Doom, +<br />The nuptial joy of Fate. +<br /> +<br />Wine for the weaklings of the town, +<br />Their lucky toasts to drain! +<br />Our skoal for them whose star goes down, +<br />Our drink the drink of men! +<br />No Bacchic ivy for our brows! +<br />Like vikings, we await +<br />The grim, ungarlanded carouse +<br />We keep to-night with Fate. +<br /> +<br />Ho, gamesters of the pampered court! +<br />What stakes are those at strife? +<br />Your thousands are but paltry sport +<br />To them that play for life. +<br />You risk doubloons, and hold your breath. +<br />Win groats, and wax elate; +<br />But we throw loaded dice with Death, +<br />And call the turn on Fate. +<br /> +<br />The kings of earth are crowned with care, +<br />Their poets wail and sigh; +<br />Our music is to do and dare, +<br />Our empire is to die. +<br />Against the storm we fling our glee +<br />And shout, till Time abate +<br />The exultation of the sea, +<br />The fearful joy of Fate. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_WAR-SONG_OF_GAMELBAR" name="THE_WAR-SONG_OF_GAMELBAR"></a>THE WAR-SONG OF GAMELBAR.</h3> + +<p> +Bowmen, shout for Gamelbar! +<br />Winds, unthrottle the wolves of war! +<br />Heave a breath +<br />And dare a death +<br />For the doom of Gamelbar! +<br />Wealth for Gamel, +<br />Wine for Gamel, +<br />Crimson wine for Gamelbar! +</p> + <p class='chorus'>CHORUS:— + <br /> Oh, sleep for a knave, + <br /> With his sins in the sod! + <br /> And death for the brave, + <br /> With his glory up to God! + <br /> And joy for the girl, + <br /> And ease for the churl! + <br /> But the great game of war + <br /> For our lord Gamelbar, + <br /> Gamelbar! + </p> +<p> +Spearmen, shout for Gamelbar, +<br />With his Saxon thirty score! +<br />Heave a sword +<br />For our overlord, +<br />Lord of warriors, Gamelbar! +<br />Life for Gamel, +<br />Love for Gamel, +<br />Lady-loves for Gamelbar! +<br /> +<br />Horsemen, shout for Gamelbar! +<br />Swim the ford and climb the scaur! +<br />Heave a hand +<br />For the maiden land, +<br />The maiden land of Gamelbar! +<br />Glory for Gamel, +<br />Gold for Gamel, +<br />Yellow gold for Gamelbar! +<br /> +<br />Armorers for Gamelbar, +<br />Rivet and forge and fear no scar! +<br />Heave a hammer +<br />With anvil clamor, +<br />To weld and brace for Gamelbar! +<br />Ring for Gamel! +<br />Rung for Gamel! +<br /><i>Ring-rung-ring</i> for Gamelbar! +<br /> +<br />Yeomen, shout for Gamelbar, +<br />And his battle-hand in war! +<br />Heave his pennon; +<br />Cheer his men on, +<br />In the ranks of Gamelbar! +<br />Strength for Gamel, +<br />Song for Gamel, +<br />One war-song for Gamelbar! +<br /> +<br />Roncliffe, shout for Gamelbar! +<br />Menthorpe, Bryan, Castelfar! +<br />Heave, Thorparch +<br />Of the Waving Larch, +<br />And Spofford's thane, for Gamelbar! +<br />Blaise for Gamel, +<br />Brame for Gamel, +<br />Rougharlington for Gamelbar! +<br /> +<br />Maidens; strew for Gamelbar +<br />Roses down his way to war! +<br />Heave a handful, +<br />Fill the land full +<br />Of your gifts to Gamelbar! +<br />Dream of Gamel, +<br />Dance for Gamel, +<br />Dance in the halls for Gamelbar! +<br /> +<br />Servitors, shout for Gamelbar! +<br />Roast the ox and stick the boar! +<br />Heave a bone +<br />To gaunt Harone, +<br />The great war-hound of Gamelbar! +<br />Mead for Gamel, +<br />Mirth for Gamel, +<br />Mirth at the board for Gamelbar! +<br /> +<br />Trumpets, speak for Gamelbar! +<br />Blare as ye never blared before! +<br />Heave a bray +<br />In the horns to-day, +<br />The red war-horns of Gamelbar! +<br />To-night for Gamel, +<br />The North for Gamel, +<br />With fires on the hills for Gamelbar! +<br /> +<br />Shout for Gamel, Gamelbar, +<br />Till your throats can shout no more! +<br />Heave a cry +<br />As he rideth by, +<br />Sons of Orm, for Gamelbar! +<br />Folk for Gamel, +<br />Fame for Gamel, +<br />Years and fame for Gamelbar! +</p> + <p class="chorus">CHORUS:— + <br /> Oh, sleep for a knave + <br /> With his sins in the sod! + <br /> And death for the brave, + <br /> With his glory up to God! + <br /> And joy for the girl, + <br /> And ease for the churl! + <br /> But the great game of war + <br /> For our lord Gamelbar, + <br /> Gamelbar! + </p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_OUTLAW" name="THE_OUTLAW"></a>THE OUTLAW.</h3> + +<p> +Oh, let my lord laugh in his halls +<br />When he the tale shall tell! +<br />But woe to Jarlwell and its walls +<br />When I shall laugh as well! +<br />And he that laughs the last, lads, +<br />Laughs well, laughs well! +<br /> +<br />He's lord of many a burg and farm +<br />And mickle thralls and gold, +<br />And I am but my own right arm, +<br />My dwelling-place the wold. +<br />But when we twain meet face to face, +<br />He will hot laugh so bold. +<br /> +<br />The shame he chuckles as he shows +<br />This time he need not tell; +<br />I'll give his body to the crows, +<br />And his black soul to Hell. +<br />For he that laughs the last, lads, +<br />Laughs well, laughs well! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_KINGS_SON" name="THE_KINGS_SON"></a>THE KING'S SON.</h3> + +<p> +"Daughter, daughter, marry no man, +<br />Though a king's son come to woo, +<br />If he be not more than blessing or ban +<br />To the secret soul of you." +<br /> +<br />"'Tis the King's son, indeed, I ween, +<br />And he left me even but now, +<br />And he shall make me a dazzling queen, +<br />With a gold crown on my brow." +<br /> +<br />"And are you one that a golden crown, +<br />Or the lust of a name can lure? +<br />You had better wed with a country clown, +<br />And keep your young heart pure." +<br /> +<br />"Mother, the King has sworn, and said +<br />That his son shall wed but me; +<br />And I must gang to the prince's bed, +<br />Or a traitor I shall be." +<br /> +<br />"Oh, what care you for an old man's wrath? +<br />Or what care you for a king? +<br />I had rather you fled on an outlaw's path, +<br />A rebel, a hunted thing." +<br /> +<br />"Mother, it is my father's will, +<br />For the King has promised him fair +<br />A goodly earldom of hollow and hill, +<br />And a coronet to wear." +<br /> +<br />"Then woe is worth a father's name, +<br />For it names your dourest foe! +<br />I had rather you came the child of shame +<br />Than to have you fathered so." +<br /> +<br />"Mother, I shall have gold enow, +<br />Though love be never mine, +<br />To buy all else that the world can show +<br />Of good and fair and fine." +<br /> +<br />"Oh, what care you for a prince's gold, +<br />Or the key of a kingdom's till? +<br />I had rather see you a harlot bold +<br />That sins of her own free will. +<br /> +<br />"For I have been wife for the stomach's sake, +<br />And I know whereof I say; +<br />A harlot is sold for a passing slake, +<br />But a wife is sold for aye. +<br /> +<br />"Body and soul for a lifetime sell, +<br />And the price of the sale shall be +<br />That you shall be harlot and slave as well +<br />Until Death set you free." +</p> + + +<h3><a id="LAURANAS_SONG" name="LAURANAS_SONG"></a> +LAURANA'S SONG. <span class="smaller">FOR "A LADY OF VENICE."</span></h3> + +<p> +Who'll have the crumpled pieces of a heart? +<br />Let him take mine! +<br />Who'll give his whole of passion for a part, +<br />And call't divine? +<br />Who'll have the soiled remainder of desire? +<br />Who'll warm his fingers at a burnt-out fire? +<br />Who'll drink the lees of love, and cast i' the mire +<br />The nobler wine? +<br /> +<br />Let him come here, and kiss me on the mouth, +<br />And have his will! +<br />Love dead and dry as summer in the South +<br />When winds are still +<br />And all the leafage shrivels in the heat! +<br />Let him come here and linger at my feet +<br />Till he grow weary with the over-sweet, +<br />And die, or kill. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="LAUNA_DEE" name="LAUNA_DEE"></a>LAUNA DEE.</h3> + +<p> +Weary, oh, so weary +<br />With it all! +<br />Sunny days or dreary— +<br />How they pall! +<br />Why should we be heroes, +<br />Launa Dee, +<br />Striving to no winning? +<br />Let the world be Zero's! +<br />As in the beginning +<br />Let it be! +<br /> +<br />What good comes of toiling, +<br />When all's done? +<br />Frail green sprays for spoiling +<br />Of the sun; +<br />Laurel leaf or myrtle, +<br />Love or fame— +<br />Ah, what odds what spray, sweet? +<br />Time, that makes life fertile, +<br />Makes its blooms decay, sweet, +<br />As they came. +<br /> +<br />Lie here with me dreaming, +<br />Cheek to cheek, +<br />Lithe limbs twined and gleaming, +<br />Brown and sleek; +<br />Like two serpents coiling +<br />In their lair. +<br />Where's the good of wreathing +<br />Sprays for Time's despoiling? +<br />Let me feel your breathing +<br />In my hair. +<br /> +<br />You and I together— +<br />Was it so? +<br />In the August weather +<br />Long ago! +<br />Did we kiss and fellow, +<br />Side by side, +<br />Till the sunbeams quickened +<br />From our stalks great yellow +<br />Sunflowers, till we sickened +<br />There and died? +<br /> +<br />Were we tigers creeping +<br />Through the glade +<br />Where our prey lay sleeping, +<br />Unafraid, +<br />In some Eastern jungle? +<br />Better so. +<br />I am sure the snarling +<br />Beasts could never bungle +<br />Life as men do, darling, +<br />Who half know. +<br /> +<br />Ah, if all of life, love, +<br />Were the living! +<br />Just to cease from strife, love, +<br />And from grieving; +<br />Let the swift world pass us, +<br />You and me, +<br />Stilled from all aspiring,— +<br />Sinai nor Parnassus +<br />Longer worth desiring, +<br />Launa Dee! +<br /> +<br />Just to live like lilies +<br />In the lake! +<br />Where no thought nor will is, +<br />To mistake! +<br />Just to lose the human +<br />Eyes that weep! +<br />Just to cease from seeming +<br />Longer man and woman! +<br />Just to reach the dreaming +<br />And the sleep! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_MENDICANTS" name="THE_MENDICANTS"></a>THE MENDICANTS.</h3> + +<p> +We are as mendicants who wait +<br />Along the roadside in the sun. +<br />Tatters of yesterday and shreds +<br />Of morrow clothe us every one. +<br /> +<br />And some are dotards, who believe +<br />And glory in the days of old; +<br />While some are dreamers, harping still +<br />Upon an unknown age of gold. +<br /> +<br />Hopeless or witless! Not one heeds, +<br />As lavish Time comes down the way +<br />And tosses in the suppliant hat +<br />One great new-minted gold To-day. +<br /> +<br />Ungrateful heart and grudging thanks, +<br />His beggar's wisdom only sees +<br />Housing and bread and beer enough; +<br />He knows no other things than these. +<br /> +<br />O foolish ones, put by your care! +<br />Where wants are many, joys are few; +<br />And at the wilding springs of peace, +<br />God keeps an open house for you. +<br /> +<br />But that some Fortunatus' gift +<br />Is lying there within his hand, +<br />More costly than a pot of pearls, +<br />His dulness does not understand. +<br /> +<br />And so his creature heart is filled; +<br />His shrunken self goes starved away. +<br />Let him wear brand-new garments still, +<br />Who has a threadbare soul, I say. +<br /> +<br />But there be others, happier few, +<br />The vagabondish sons of God, +<br />Who know the by-ways and the flowers, +<br />And care not how the world may plod. +<br /> +<br />They idle down the traffic lands, +<br />And loiter through the woods with spring; +<br />To them the glory of the earth +<br />Is but to hear a bluebird sing. +<br /> +<br />They too receive each one his Day; +<br />But their wise heart knows many things +<br />Beyond the sating of desire, +<br />Above the dignity of kings. +<br /> +<br />One I remember kept his coin, +<br />And laughing flipped it in the air; +<br />But when two strolling pipe-players +<br />Came by, he tossed it to the pair. +<br /> +<br />Spendthrift of joy, his childish heart +<br />Danced to their wild outlandish bars; +<br />Then supperless he laid him down +<br />That night, and slept beneath the stars. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_MARCHING_MORROWS" name="THE_MARCHING_MORROWS"></a>THE MARCHING MORROWS.</h3> + +<p> +Now gird thee well for courage, +<br />My knight of twenty year, +<br />Against the marching morrows +<br />That fill the world with fear! +<br /> +<br />The flowers fade before them; +<br />The summer leaves the hill; +<br />Their trumpets range the morning, +<br />And those who hear grow still. +<br /> +<br />Like pillagers of harvest, +<br />Their fame is far abroad, +<br />As gray remorseless troopers +<br />That plunder and maraud. +<br /> +<br />The dust is on their corselets; +<br />Their marching fills the world; +<br />With conquest after conquest +<br />Their banners are unfurled. +<br /> +<br />They overthrow the battles +<br />Of every lord of war, +<br />From world-dominioned cities +<br />Wipe out the names they bore. +<br /> +<br />Sohrab, Rameses, Roland, +<br />Ramoth, Napoleon, Tyre, +<br />And the Romeward Huns of Attila— +<br />Alas, for their desire! +<br /> +<br />By April and by autumn +<br />They perish in their pride, +<br />And still they close and gather +<br />Out of the mountain-side. +<br /> +<br />The tanned and tameless children +<br />Of the wild elder earth, +<br />With stature of the northlights, +<br />They have the stars for girth. +<br /> +<br />There's not a hand to stay them, +<br />Of all the hearts that brave; +<br />No captain to undo them, +<br />No cunning to off-stave. +<br /> +<br />Yet fear thou not! If haply +<br />Thou be the kingly one, +<br />They'll set thee in their vanguard +<br />To lead them round the sun. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="IN_THE_WORKSHOP" name="IN_THE_WORKSHOP"></a>IN THE WORKSHOP.</h3> + +<p> +Once in the Workshop, ages ago, +<br />The clay was wet and the fire was low. +<br /> +<br />And He who was bent on fashioning man +<br />Moulded a shape from a clod, +<br />And put the loyal heart therein; +<br />While another stood watching by. +<br /> +<br />"What's that?" said Beelzebub. +<br />"A lover," said God. +<br />And Beelzebub frowned, for he knew that kind. +<br /> +<br />And then God fashioned a fellow shape +<br />As lithe as a willow rod, +<br />And gave it the merry roving eye +<br />And the range of the open road. +<br /> +<br />"What's that?" said Beelzebub. +<br />"A vagrant," said God. +<br />And Beelzebub smiled, for he knew that kind. +<br /> +<br />And last of all God fashioned a form, +<br />And gave it, what was odd, +<br />The loyal heart and the roving eye; +<br />And he whistled, light of care. +<br /> +<br />"What's that?" said Beelzebub. +<br />"A poet," said God. +<br />And Beelzebub frowned, for he did not know. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_MOTE" name="THE_MOTE"></a>THE MOTE.</h3> + +<p> +Two shapes of august bearing, seraph tall, +<br />Of indolent imperturbable regard, +<br />Stood in the Tavern door to drink. As the first +<br />Lifted his glass to let the warm light melt +<br />In the slow bubbles of the wine, a sunbeam, +<br />Red and broad as smouldering autumn, smote +<br />Down through its mystery; and a single fleck, +<br />The tiniest sun-mote settling through the air, +<br />Fell on the grape-dark surface and there swam. +<br /> +<br />Gently the Drinker with fastidious care +<br />Stretched hand to clear the speck away. "No, no!"— +<br />His comrade stayed his arm. "Why," said the first, +<br />"What would you have me do?" "Ah, let it float +<br />A moment longer!" And the second smiled. +<br />"Do you not know what that is?" "No, indeed." +<br />"A mere dust-mote, a speck of soot, you think, +<br />A plague-germ still unsatisfied. It is not. +<br />That is the Earth. See, I will stretch my hand +<br />Between it and the sun; the passing shadow +<br />Gives its poor dwellers a glacial period. +<br />Let it but stand an hour, it would dissolve, +<br />Intangible as the color of the wine. +<br />There, throw it away now! Lift it from the sweet +<br />Enveloping flood it has enjoyed so well;" +<br />(He smiled as only those who live can smile) +<br />"Its time is done, its revelry complete, +<br />Its being accomplished. Let us drink again." +</p> + + +<h3><a id="IN_THE_HOUSE_OF_IDIEDAILY" name="IN_THE_HOUSE_OF_IDIEDAILY"></a>IN THE HOUSE OF IDIEDAILY.</h3> + +<p> +Oh, but life went gayly, gayly, +<br />In the house of Idiedaily! +<br /> +<br />There were always throats to sing +<br />Down the river-banks with spring, +<br /> +<br />When the stir of heart's desire +<br />Set the sapling's heart on fire. +<br /> +<br />Bobolincolns in the meadows, +<br />Leisure in the purple shadows, +<br /> +<br />Till the poppies without number +<br />Bowed their heads in crimson slumber, +<br /> +<br />And the twilight came to cover +<br />Every unreluctant lover. +<br /> +<br />Not a night but some brown maiden +<br />Bettered all the dusk she strayed in, +<br /> +<br />While the roses in her hair +<br />Bankrupted oblivion there. +<br /> +<br />Oh, but life went gayly, gayly, +<br />In the house of Idiedaily! +<br /> +<br />But this hostelry, The Barrow, +<br />With its chambers, bare and narrow, +<br /> +<br />Mean, ill-windowed, damp, and wormy, +<br />Where the silence makes you squirmy, +<br /> +<br />And the guests are never seen to, +<br />Is a vile place, a mere lean-to, +<br /> +<br />Not a traveller speaks well of, +<br />Even worse than I heard tell of, +<br /> +<br />Mouldy, ramshackle, and foul. +<br />What a dwelling for a soul! +<br /> +<br />Oh, but life went gayly, gayly, +<br />In the house of Idiedaily! +<br /> +<br />There the hearth was always warm, +<br />From the slander of the storm. +<br /> +<br />There your comrade was your neighbor, +<br />Living on to-morrow's labor. +<br /> +<br />And the board was always steaming, +<br />Though Sir Ringlets might be dreaming. +<br /> +<br />Not a plate but scoffed at porridge, +<br />Not a cup but floated borage. +<br /> +<br />There were always jugs of sherry +<br />Waiting for the makers merry, +<br /> +<br />And the dark Burgundian wine +<br />That would make a fool divine. +<br /> +<br />Oh, but life went gayly, gayly +<br />In the house of Idiedaily! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="RESIGNATION" name="RESIGNATION"></a>RESIGNATION.</h3> + +<p> +When I am only fit to go to bed, +<br />Or hobble out to sit within the sun, +<br />Ring down the curtain, say the play is done, +<br />And the last petals of the poppy shed! +<br /> +<br />I do not want to live when I am old, +<br />I have no use for things I cannot love; +<br />And when the day that I am talking of +<br />(Which God forfend!) is come, it will be cold. +<br /> +<br />But if there is another place than this, +<br />Where all the men will greet me as "Old Man," +<br />And all the women wrap me in a smile, +<br />Where money is more useless than a kiss, +<br />And good wine is not put beneath the ban, +<br />I will go there and stay a little while. +</p> + + +<h3><a id="COMRADES" name="COMRADES"></a>COMRADES.</h3> + +<p> +Comrades, pour the wine to-night +<br />For the parting is with dawn! +<br />Oh, the clink of cups together, +<br />With the daylight coming on! +<br />Greet the morn +<br />With a double horn, +<br />When strong men drink together! +<br /> +<br />Comrades, gird your swords to-night, +<br />For the battle is with dawn! +<br />Oh, the clash of shields together, +<br />With the triumph coming on! +<br />Greet the foe, +<br />And lay him low, +<br />When strong men fight together! +<br /> +<br />Comrades, watch the tides to-night, +<br />For the sailing is with dawn! +<br />Oh, to face the spray together, +<br />With the tempest coming on! +<br />Greet the sea +<br />With a shout of glee, +<br />When strong men roam together! +<br /> +<br />Comrades, give a cheer to-night, +<br />For the dying is with dawn! +<br />Oh, to meet the stars together, +<br />With the silence coming on! +<br />Greet the end +<br />As a friend a friend, +<br />When strong men die together! +</p> + + +<h3><a id="THE_END" name="THE_END"></a>THE END.</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs from Vagabondia, by +Bliss Carman and Richard Hovey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS FROM VAGABONDIA *** + +***** This file should be named 18238-h.htm or 18238-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/2/3/18238/ + +Produced by Thierry Alberto, Robert Ledger and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions +(www.canadiana.org)) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + |