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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Path of Dreams, by Leigh Gordon Giltner
+
+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: The Path of Dreams
+       Poems
+
+Author: Leigh Gordon Giltner
+
+Release Date: October 25, 2008 [EBook #27024]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATH OF DREAMS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Diane Monico, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Leigh Gordon Giltner]
+
+
+
+
+The Path of Dreams
+
+_POEMS_
+
+_BY LEIGH GORDON GILTNER_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Fleming H. Revell Company
+Chicago : New York : Toronto
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT 1900
+
+BY LEIGH GORDON GILTNER
+
+
+
+
+_TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER_
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+In Woodland Ways                9
+
+Ashes of Roses                 11
+
+A Challenge                    13
+
+And Yet ...                    15
+
+The Master-Player              16
+
+Afterbloom                     17
+
+To Bliss Carman                18
+
+When Love Passed By            19
+
+Hedonism ... Euthumism      21-22
+
+Under the Leaves               23
+
+Carmen                         23
+
+To R. D. MacLean               26
+
+Love and Death                 26
+
+A Winter Landscape             27
+
+Roses and Rue                  28
+
+Severance                      47
+
+Spartacus                      48
+
+The Dead Leader                50
+
+Hagar                          51
+
+Flower-Fancies              52-53
+
+Circe                          54
+
+To A. M. M.                    55
+
+Loveless                       56
+
+Clytie--The Sunflower          57
+
+In Bondage                     61
+
+To a Singer                    63
+
+Blossom of Brine               64
+
+A Memory                       65
+
+To Margaret                    66
+
+Regret                         67
+
+"God Bless You, Dear"          69
+
+Roses                          71
+
+The Poet                       72
+
+Shylock                        72
+
+To Charles J. O'Malley         73
+
+Antithesis                     74
+
+In Fortune's Twilight          74
+
+Fate                           75
+
+The Path of Dreams             76
+
+An Autumn Song                 78
+
+Vain                           79
+
+Sartor Resartus                80
+
+Illumed                        82
+
+In The Play                    83
+
+To E. P. B.                    84
+
+Through The Dark               85
+
+Preluding                      86
+
+The Heights of Silence         87
+
+Andromeda                      88
+
+Requital                       90
+
+When Fades the Light           91
+
+Butterflies                    92
+
+In the Dark Forest             93
+
+Insatiate                      95
+
+
+
+
+To One Who Sleeps
+
+(Obiit, June 8th, 1894.)
+
+
+_Tho' storm and summer shine for long have shed
+Or blight or bloom above thy quiet bed,
+Tho' loneliness and longing cry thee dead--
+Thou art not dead, belovèd. Still with me
+Are whilom hopings that encompass thee
+And dreams of dear delights that may not be.
+Asleep--adream perchance, dost thou forget
+The sometime sorrow and the fevered fret,
+Sting of salt tears and long unbreathed regret?
+Liest thou here thro' long sunshiny hours,
+Holding sweet converse with the springing flowers,
+Harking the singing of the warm sweet showers
+That fall like happy tears ... dost hear
+The birds that unafraid assail thine ear--
+And yet art silent when I whisper? Dear,
+      Dost thou not hear?_
+
+_Lying so low beneath the bending grass
+In long, still smiling tranced for aye--alas!
+Thou dost not harken when my footsteps pass.
+If haply I some tender thing should tell
+Thee of the springtime flowers thou once loved well--
+Anemone and shining asphodel;
+Should steal from Nature some enchanted lay,
+Some bird-song lilted where green branches sway--
+Heart-music that could stir thy heart alway;
+Should call thee by the old fond name again,
+Should tell thee all a heart's enduring pain
+And long rememb'ring, would'st thou mute remain?
+Alas! nor sigh nor song can thrill the ear
+Tuned to Israfel's music in the sphere
+Where things to thee erst dear no more are dear.
+      Thou dost not hear!_
+
+
+
+
+THE PATH OF DREAMS
+
+
+
+
+In Woodland Ways
+
+
+Out of the poignant glare, the shadeless heat
+Of summer noon, beseech thee follow me
+Into the dim, dream-haunted secrecy
+The cool, green glooms, the grottoed deep retreat,
+Of yon old wood; down aisles of lichened trees--
+Grey Merlins clasped by lissom Viviens
+Of clinging vine--to cloistered sylvan glens,
+Where Nature weaves her fairest mysteries.
+
+Here let us rest a little--find surcease
+For feet grown weary of the thridded street
+That echoes ever to the ceaseless beat
+Of human tread;--a brief while know the ease
+Of dreamful rest, to slumb'rous languors stilled
+On Orient rugs of dappled mosses spread
+In nooks where blossom, purple, white and red,
+The flowers Summer's lavish hands have spilled.
+
+Wild woodland creatures near us unafraid,
+Some strange enchantment doth the forest hold--
+Was that a sungleam, or a wand of gold
+By tricksy Puck or wanton Ariel swayed?
+Old oaks and beeches open wide their doors
+And hamadryads veiled in golden sheen
+Floating diaphanous o'er robes of green
+Walk with still feet the forest's russet floors.
+
+Lo, here are fairies hid in flower-bells,
+There wood-nymphs fleeing from pursuing fauns,
+And naiads fleshed with hues of rosy dawns
+Lie dreaming by white streams in dusky dells;
+We tread dim paths untrod by foot of man
+And hark the horn of Dian ringing clear;
+While faint, elusive, thin--now far, now near,
+Meseems I hear the oaten pipe of Pan.
+
+And while o'erhead the plaining wood-dove grieves,
+The cardinal--a wingèd, scarlet flower--
+Sprays all the air with song, a golden shower
+Of flutes-notes sifting downward thro' the leaves.
+Ah, sweet enchantment doth the forest hold,
+For Nature's self doth haunt these woodland ways,
+My fevered brow on her cool breast she lays
+And care slips from me as a garment old.
+
+
+
+
+Ashes of Roses
+
+
+Skies glooming overhead,
+  Autumn winds sighing;
+Bare yonder garden bed,
+  Flowers low lying.
+All their rich radiance fled,
+All their pale petals shed,
+Wan wraiths of Summer sped,
+  In Autumn's closes;
+Crimson and cream and gold
+Strewn on earth's bosom cold,
+Mingling with umber mold--
+      Ashes of roses.
+
+See, in yon waning West
+  Rich roses blowing
+On Heaven's palimpsest
+  God's message glowing;
+Rose hues and amethyst
+Drenched in purpureate mist,
+Darkness with Day keeps tryst,
+  Night's curtain closes;
+Quenched is the burning gold,
+Shadowed the upland wold,
+Day's fires grow dull and cold
+      Ashes of roses.
+
+So on this heart of mine
+  Shadows are lying;
+Lotus and rue entwine,
+  Dim dreams are dying;
+Stilled is the thrill divine,
+Spilled is the amber wine,
+Dimly the cold stars shine;
+  Wan age discloses
+All youth's bright blossoms dead,
+All love's rare radiance sped,
+All hope's pure petals shed--
+      Ashes of roses.
+
+
+
+
+A Challenge
+
+
+To have lived, to have loved, to have triumphed!--what more can the
+  world bestow?
+I stand at the close of the conflict, my foot on the neck of my foe.
+Prone in the dust lies the demon Despair, still shouting his shibboleth
+To the treacherous Amazon dark-browed Fate, and her grisly comrade, Death.
+To have lived! To have felt in my veins the surge of the rich, red tide of
+  life,
+The quickening stir of the strong man's heart that thrills to the sound
+  of strife;
+To have wrested success from defeat, to have striven, and struggled,
+  and won--
+Shall this seem a small thing, think you, when the Battle of Ages is done?
+To have loved! To have known of all raptures, the rapture supernal, divine,
+To have felt the throb of your heart on my heart and the bloom of your
+  lips pressed to mine;
+To have ranked with the gods on Olympus--myths tell us immortal Jove
+Cleft with his swan-wings the blue of the sky for boon of a mortal's
+  love....
+I have lived, I have loved, I have triumphed! Let Death come, or early
+  or late!
+I hurl my challenging gauntlet full in the face of Fate!
+Fate may make wreck of a future--how can she alter the past?
+I have tasted the sweets of life's chalice--why shrink from the lees
+  at the last?
+How should I cavil at aught that shall come--I stand with your head on
+  my breast--
+I have fought as I might--I have gained _you_, beloved ... to God's
+  mercy the rest!
+Tho' the heavens darken above me and the sky be shrunk as a scroll,
+In the wreck and ruin of riven worlds, should I falter, O Soul of my soul?
+Tho' the demon Despair, where he vanquished lies, still utter his
+  shibboleth--
+I fling my glove in the face of Fate and smile in the eyes of Death!
+
+
+
+
+And Yet ...
+
+
+Upon the meads where we were wont to stray,
+'Guiling with springtime hopes the winter hours,
+The Spring has smiled; yon slope that late gloomed gray
+And sternly sad, 'neath April's tender showers
+Grows green and glad again. The rippled grass,
+A soundless sea o'er which white cloud-sails pass,
+Breaks at my feet in billows foamed with flowers;
+And blue-eyed myrtle blooms with lashes wet
+Smile to me thro' their tears. The skies are blue,
+And life is sweet to-day and hope seems true;
+My heart is barren of its long regret--
+      And yet...
+
+The willow wears a wistful green. A dream
+Of Summer warmth the wine-sweet breezes hold,
+Fair wildings blow--bright buttercups agleam
+Like shining sequins scattered on the wold,
+And daffodills--a wealth of faery gold.
+The building birds their coming bliss presage
+With lilt and lyric brimming o'er the page
+Of Nature's volume bound in green and gold.
+Here 'mid the birds and blossoms 'neath the blue--
+My heart unburthened of the old regret--
+Let me forget long striving to forget;
+For life is sweet to-day and hope seems true--
+And yet...
+
+
+
+
+The Master-Player
+
+
+Mute was the mighty organ. None might break
+The silence that had thralled it since was stilled
+The master-hand beneath whose touch it thrilled
+To music such as choiring seraphs make--
+Until a mightier Master came to wake
+Th' elusive chords and subtle harmonies
+That lay imprisoned in the cold white keys
+And once again the soul of Music spake.
+Methought my soul's most perfect melodies
+No hand again to sonance could evoke--
+A silent harp whose potence none might prove--
+But, lo! one came who swept its chords and woke
+Celestial strains, divinest harmonies,
+Responsive to the master-touch of Love.
+
+
+
+
+Afterbloom
+
+
+Gay was her garden as some gorgeous fabric
+    Weft on an Orient loom,
+Star-set upon the sward quaint, old-time blossoms
+    Wrought broidery of bloom.
+
+Verbenas, dahlias, asters, scarlet cannas
+    Like torches flaming tall;
+(Methought the fair, old face, enframed in silver,
+    The sweetest flower of all!)
+
+And one rare rose she watched each year with hoping
+    Till the dear eyes grew dim--
+But ere a single blossom burst in beauty
+    God took her home to Him.
+Yet when the Spring next woke the earth to laughter
+    And boon of blossom gave,
+Starred was the rose with white, unearthly flowers--
+   We laid them on her grave.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And so, meseems, the buds we woo most fondly
+    Nor light nor perfume shed;
+And Love's gold-hearted rose and Hope's star-flower
+    Oft bloom when we are dead.
+
+
+
+
+To Bliss Carman
+
+
+Great hearted brother to the wilderness,
+  Comrade of Wind and Sea! Interpreter
+Of nomad Nature! Ere the quick'ning stir
+  Of Spring-sap thrills the wood from sullen stress
+Of Winter's spell--away from throngèd press
+  Of urban ways thy wild feet wander far
+Tracking the steps of some white Northern star
+  Whose rays are beacon to thy restlessness.
+Weird mystic of the Northland's mystery,
+  Thou 'front'st the Unseen Shadow, nor dost fear
+To meet the Scarlet Hunter on the trail;
+  Pagan as Pan; to all things sylvan dear,
+Nature's own vagrant, buoyant, driftless, free--
+  All winds and woods and waters cry thee hail!
+
+
+
+
+When Love Passed By
+
+
+I dreamt of love in the golden glory
+Of youth unshadowed by cloud or care;
+Steeped in the love-lore of song and story,
+I said, "My Love shall be wondrous fair."
+
+I said, "Her hands shall be filled with flowers,
+(My heart shall tell me when Love draws nigh!)
+She shall steal sweet boon from the graceless hours,
+Her eyes shall be blue as the cerule sky.
+
+"Her hair shall be bright as the stars' gold gleaming,
+Her lips shall be red with her heart's rich wine,
+Her face shall be fair as my fondest dreaming,
+Each pulse of my being shall call her mine!"
+
+Then long for the voice of my heart I harkened,
+Tranced in love's hoping--all hope else forgot--
+I waited lonely; the daylight darkened,
+The twilight deepened--but love came not.
+
+Then One passed by in the dusking shadows,
+The night's dusk shadows slept on her hair--
+She passed like a gleam o'er the dew-drenched meadows,
+And my heart throbbed fast--but she was not fair.
+
+Her face was pale and her dark eyes pleading,
+Her smile was wistful and gravely sweet;
+She passed me by where I stood unheeding,
+And dropped a violet at my feet.
+
+She went her way o'er the silent meadows,
+(Ah, traitorous heart that you tricked me so!)
+I sat alone in the deepening shadows--
+Love had passed by--and I did not know.
+
+
+
+
+Hedonism
+
+
+Since we must sleep the endless Sleep at last,
+Since Life's grim juggernaut 'neath ruthless wheels
+Crushes the heart; since Age like Winter steals
+On Youth's fair-flowered fields with blighting blast--
+Then to the gods our doubts and fears be cast!
+Enough of Sorrow! Joyance is our due.
+Gather the roses! Spurn th' envenomed rue.
+Fling to the waiting winds the pallid past.
+Steep thee in mellow moods and dear desires;
+Pluck Love's flame-hearted flower ere it dies;
+Cull nectared kisses sweet as morning's breath,
+Warm Chastity at Passion's purple fires;
+Nepenthe quaff--till drained the chalice lies.
+After ... the shrouded sleep, the dreamless dark of Death.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Euthumism
+
+
+If in the spirit glows no spark divine;
+If soulless dust return to dust again;
+If, after life, but death and dark remain--
+Then it were well to make the moment thine,
+Bacchante-steeping soul and sense in wine,
+In lotus-lulling languors, fond desires
+That heat the heart with fierce, unhallowed fires--
+Till Pleasure, Circe-like, transform us into swine.
+But if some subtler spirit thrill our clay,
+Some God-like flame illume this fleeting dust--
+Promethean fire snatched from the Olympian height--
+Then must we choose the nobler, higher Way,
+Seeking the Beautiful, the Pure, the Just--
+The ultimate crowned triumph of the Right!
+
+
+
+
+Under the Leaves
+
+
+The phalanxes of corn stand grim and serried,
+    Dull gold the sodden sheaves,
+The violets that smiled with Spring are buried
+        Under the leaves.
+
+Along the land the Winter's doom is creeping
+    All vainly Autumn grieves;
+And she who made my heart's sweet Spring is sleeping
+        Under the leaves.
+
+
+
+
+Carmen
+
+
+Night in Seville, and the twinkle
+  Of stars in the far azure set,
+The mandolin's torturing tinkle,
+  The click of the castanet!
+Music and wine and low laughter,
+  Love and a torment of tune--
+Hate and a poignard thereafter,
+  Under the yellow moon.
+
+Here in the night I await her,
+  Under the slumberous moon;
+Yearns my fierce spirit to mate her--
+  All my sick senses aswoon
+Beneath the wild sway of her dancing
+  Passion and pride are at war;--
+Thrall to her amorous glancing,
+  Grandee and toreador.
+
+Carmen Gitana, behold her!
+  Bright passion-flower of the South;
+Soft Southern languors enfold her,
+  Scarlet the bloom of her mouth;
+Passionate, sensuous, cruel,
+  Raying warm laughter and light,
+A ruby--a scintillant jewel--
+  Set on the brow of the Night!
+
+Ah, the wild rhythm of her dancing!
+  Lithe with the jaguar's grace,
+Ah, the sweet fire of her glancing,
+  The love-litten lure of her face!
+And ah, in my fierce arms to hold her
+  This strange scarlet flower of the South.
+Close to my heart-beat to fold her
+  Drinking the wine of her mouth!
+
+Sweet, thou art weary with dancing,
+  Sick of the music and light
+Praises and overbold glancing--
+  Steal with me into the night;
+Out of the riot of laughter,
+  Out of the torment of tune--
+Love and close kisses thereafter
+  Under the sensuous moon!
+
+Carmen, my fierce arms enfold thee,
+  Bright passion-flower of the South,
+Close to my hot heart I hold thee,
+  Crushing the flower of thy mouth.
+Love--for the loving that swayed me,
+  Passion--for passion long past--
+Hate--for the hate that betrayed me ...
+  My dirk in your side at the last!
+
+
+
+
+To R. D. MacLean
+
+
+If words were wingèd arrows tipped with flame,
+Far-flying thro' the vast of time and space,
+If Erato should lend me some rare grace,
+Then might I dare to breathe in song your name.
+Ah, Player-king, unmoved by all renown,
+Acclaim and praise that wait upon your name,
+You pluck a laurel from the wreath of fame,
+Then, careless of the guerdon, cast it down.
+
+
+
+
+Love and Death
+
+
+Ever athwart Life's sunlit, upland ways
+Falleth the shadow of impending Death,
+And still Life's flowers beneath his blighting breath
+To ashes wither, and to dust, her bays.
+What were the worth of hard-won power or praise?
+Awaits us all the grave-cell dark and deep,
+The greedy grave-worm's maw, the awful sleep
+When Death his cold hand on our pulses lays.
+What then the end of action or of strife?
+The sphinxèd riddle of the Universe,
+Nature's unsolved enigma, who may prove?
+Life's Passion Play all blindly men rehearse....
+But yet our recompense for birth, for life,
+For death itself, meseems, is deathless Love!
+
+
+
+
+A Winter Landscape
+
+
+A mystic world mantled in white simarre
+Arachne-spun with argent woof; her wede
+Starred with strange crystals wrought from frozen spar,
+Sprent with pearl frost-flowers; girt with diamond brede,
+Rubied with berries red as drops of blood,
+Befringed with gelid, many-irised gems;
+Broidered with lace weft of an elfin brood--
+    Hoar filagree to deck her garment hems.
+
+Sheer slanting down the sky an opal light
+Pierces the snow-blur's veil of wannish gray,
+In iridescent sheen, tingeing the dazzling white
+With amethystine, gold or beryl ray.
+Along the West the transient sunset gleam--
+An ardor brief!   Crimson on crimson grows
+Till all the waning sky, incarnadine,
+      Glows like blown petals of a shattered rose.
+
+
+
+
+Roses and Rue
+
+
+I.
+
+A swift thought flashed to my mind that day
+When I first saw you, regally tall
+'Mid a throng of pigmies--a very Saul--
+How some woman's heart must admit your sway,
+Some woman's soul to your soul be thrall;
+(And though not for me were the rapture to prove you,
+I thrilled as I thought how a woman might love you!)
+
+Then--strange that our eyes for a moment should meet
+And hold each other a breathless space,
+That a light as of dawn should leap into your face,
+That the lips that were stern should an instant grow sweet--
+Ere you turned, at a word, with a courtier's grace.
+(And I knew that tho' many a woman had loved you,
+Till that moment, the glance of no woman had moved you!)
+
+Then you stood at my side and one murmured your name,
+The proud old name that you worthily wore,
+And I drank the soul-chalice Fate's mandate upbore
+To my lips, as the fire of your glance leapt to flame;
+What need were of words? heart speaks heart evermore--
+(And I knew that were mine but the rapture to prove you,
+How deeply, how dearly one woman might love you!)
+
+
+II.
+
+Do I idly dream, as the village maid,
+Who thinks, as she spins, of a princekin gay
+On a prancing steed, who shall come her way
+To woo her and win her and bear her away
+Thro' the vasty depths of the forest shade
+To a palace set in a sylvan glade,--
+To love her for aye and a day?
+
+Is it like that he with his princely pride--
+The son of a proud old race,
+Shall stoop with Cophetua's kingly grace
+To lift me up to the vacant place,
+To reign like a queen at his side?
+Can the world afford him no worthier bride--
+No bride with a queenlier grace?
+
+Aye, a foolish dream for a sordid day
+When men seek power--and women, gold--
+Gone is the chivalrous age of old
+When maids were loving and men were bold,
+And good King Arthur held knightly sway!
+Ah, love and knighthood were laid away
+With the cuirass and helm of old.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But a horseman rides to the wicket gate--
+All my pulses proclaim it he,
+My knight who has parted the waves of the sea,
+Who has cleft the wide world in his searching for me....
+Fond, foolish, dreaming!--for surely Fate
+Decrees him the winning a worthier mate
+Than a simple girl like me!
+
+
+III.
+
+Why does he come to me,
+With his deep, impassioned eyes,
+Stealing my soul from me?
+Surely a high emprise
+For such an one as he
+To smile an hour on me--
+To win a worthless prize,
+Would he might let me be!
+Proud am I--proud as he
+For my name as his is old--
+What should he say to me?
+I have neither lands nor gold.
+Ah, a merry jest 'twill be
+To win my heart from me--
+(The tale will be soon told!)
+Would he might let me be!
+
+
+IV.
+
+Swept, swept away is my vaunted pride
+On a flood-tide of tenderness;
+I envy the dog that bounds to his side,
+And the chestnut mare he is wont to ride
+'Cross moor and mead when the day is fine,
+As she lays her head in a mute caress
+'Gainst the arm of _her_ lord--and _mine!_
+
+
+V.
+
+Ah, silver and gold of the glad June morning--
+Gold of the sunshine and silver of dew,
+Dew drop gems all the meads adorning--
+Are love and the rose-time a theme for scorning?
+Roses, roses,--dream not of rue!
+    Am I not loved by you?
+
+Antiphonal to sweet sylvan singers,
+The brook with its maddening, gladdening rune!
+And my lover's kiss still thrills and lingers,
+Lingers and burns on my tremulous fingers!
+Ah, birds in a very riot of tune
+Pour out my joy to the heart of June!
+
+He loves me--loves me! My heart is singing.--
+(Heart, oh heart of my heart is it true?)
+Song on my lips from my soul upringing,
+A passion of bliss to the breezes flinging,
+Roses, roses--nor dream of rue!
+    I am beloved by you.
+
+
+VI.
+
+To be his wife! Calm all my soul is filling,
+A calm too deep for smiles--or even tears;
+A perfect trust to slumber subtly stilling
+    My whilom doubts and fears.
+
+Each little common thing to me seems rarer,
+My life each day becomes more dear to me;
+Love, am I fair? Ah, fain would I be fairer--
+    And yet more fair for thee.
+
+Like to a priestess some loved shrine adorning,
+I deck the charms but poorly prized, till late,
+The beauty once I held too slight for scorning--
+    To thee, now consecrate!
+
+As if some god of old had stooped to love me--
+Some star had pierced my darkness with its ray--
+I worship thee--an idol throned above me--
+    Forgetting thou art clay.
+
+Rejoicing in the gift that God has given,
+I may forget the Giver. Love, I fear
+Lest I shall e'en forget to sigh for Heaven--
+    When heaven for me is here!
+
+
+VII.
+
+Strange that a love supreme
+Should be swayed by a petty pride,
+As a straw might turn aside
+The swift onflowing tide
+Of a mighty seaward stream!
+
+I know that the fault was mine,
+But I cannot, will not speak;
+How should I, suppliant, meek,
+His gracious pardon seek--
+Tho' the fault were mine--all mine?
+
+Aye, tho' my heart should break,
+Something--or pride or shame--
+Forbids me that I should claim
+As mine the fault, the blame--
+Aye, tho' my heart should break!
+
+
+VIII.
+
+Last night he came to me,
+His dark eyes grave and sweet--
+(Eyes that I could not meet!)
+To crave my pardon--_mine!_
+With that kingly courtesy
+Which makes his least deed fine.
+
+What fiend took hold on me?
+I would nor speak nor heed,
+Tho' he bent his pride to plead--
+(He, all unused to sue!)
+Though he sought full tenderly
+For a pardon not _his_ due.
+
+Fool! to have played with fire--
+Had I not full often heard
+How when his wrath was stirred
+It burst all bounds and leapt
+Higher and ever higher
+Like flames by the storm-wind swept?
+
+Yet--tho' his face was white
+With a passion that shook his soul--
+Not once did he waive control,
+Tho' his heart to its depths was stirred--
+He leashed his wrath that night
+Nor uttered one bitter word.
+
+Pride held me stubbornly dumb,
+Stilling what words I would say,
+While I flung my heart's treasure away,
+While I tampered with fire--to my cost;
+Till I knew the ultimate end had come--
+I had matched pride with love--and lost!
+
+
+IX.
+
+  What poisoned pen has written
+    The words that bar my breath;
+  What hard, harsh hand has smitten
+    My soul with death?
+
+"_Love, my love_"--these the words I read--
+"_The vision and dream of a life have died.
+Hurt to the heart by the words you said,_
+Angered, stung by a wounded pride,
+Mad with the thought that your love was dead--
+I have wedded a loveless, unloved bride--
+    Would I had died instead!_"
+
+    My heart refuses to understand
+    The words that burn my brain;
+    Palsied, stunned by a felling blow
+    Struck by a cherished hand,
+    I am all too numb for pain;
+    Dead to a deathless woe,
+    Helpless to understand,
+        Shall I ever feel again?
+
+
+X.
+
+Awake, alive to pain! The first steel gleam of morn
+Stabs deep the heart I thought had shrunk to dust,
+The love I prayed might die to loveless scorn
+Awakes and cries ... Ah, God, how is it just
+A fault so slight such meed of pain should pay,
+That one mad word in pride and anger spoken
+Should leave two lives forever crushed and broken,
+Should plait a scourge to lash my soul for aye?
+
+How can a just God see men suffer thus?--
+Unheedful of the cosmic cry of pain,
+Unmoved by all the pangs that torture us,
+Knowing our prayers and tears alike are vain--
+Like to a wanton boy who feels no thrill
+Of pity for the weak his strength holds thrall,
+Who pins a helpless butterfly against a wall,
+Watching the bright wings flutter and grow still.
+
+We are the sport of some malignant Power
+Who nails us to our crosses, hard and fast,
+Who sees us flutter for a little hour,
+Struggle and suffer ... and grow still at last;
+Who hears untouched the ceaseless, cosmic groan
+Wrung from his creatures' tortured lips alway;
+He will not hear or heed! What need to pray?
+There is no hand to help. We stand alone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Father, forgive! I know not what I say,
+Frenzied, tortured, torn on the rack of pain;
+Teach these pain-writhen lips once more to pray--
+    Help me to trust again!
+
+
+XI.
+
+    A year! How slight a space
+    When winged with ecstasy!
+    (An æon dark to me.)
+He has brought her home--God lend me grace!
+To-night in the throng I shall see his face--
+    He has long forgotten me.
+    A year! I have learned to smile,
+    I have taught my eyes to lie,
+I have lived and laughed and sung--the while
+    I have only longed to die.
+
+
+XII.
+
+I have seen him once again,
+There in the throng with his wife
+(An eagle matched with a pitiful wren!)
+Bitter in sooth has his portion been--
+Chained to a clog for life!
+Strange that our eyes as of yore should meet
+And hold each other a breathless space,
+That the dawn-light of old should illumine his face,
+That the lips that were stern should an instant grow sweet,
+Touched with the old-time tender grace.
+But his eyes were haggard and old with pain
+(Traitors to thwart his resolute will!)
+They told me the struggle was vain--all vain!
+    He loves me--loves me still.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+Cruel! that I should be glad
+  That he loves and suffers still,
+Yet how should my soul be sad
+That his passionate, resolute will
+Cannot crush the love that is stronger than he,
+  The love that is all for me!
+
+The year has left its trace
+  (Cover it how he will!)
+On the proud, impassive face
+And I know how he suffers still--
+Thrall to a love that is stronger than he,
+  A love that is all for me.
+
+Surely, ah surely, I know
+  I who have known his love,
+I who have loved him so,
+What such a bond must prove,
+Linked to a loveless, unloved wife,
+  Chained to a clog for life!
+
+
+XIV.
+
+    She loves him not, they say,
+    Save for his lands and gold;
+    She is narrow, selfish, cold,
+    Stabbing and wounding his soul each day,
+    Growing further and further away
+    From the heart it was hers to hold.
+
+    Yet not all blameless he,
+    A woman is quick to feel
+    What man would fain conceal;
+    Surely she can but see
+    That naught to his life is she,
+    Nay--nor can ever be!
+
+I am happier--happier far--than he;
+He is meshed in a galling silken hold,
+Bound with a jewelled band of gold;
+While I, at least, am free.
+And I know what his daily life must be.
+Linked with a nature paltry, slight,
+He with his generous, kingly soul,
+Stung and goaded past all control
+By a thousand petty barbs of venom and spite.
+
+Once, but once have we met,
+And we spoke of trivial things,
+Of the changes a twelvemonth brings,
+Of late Summer, lingering yet...
+(Ah, how should a heart that has loved forget?)
+Traitors ever to thwart his will
+His eyes confirm what I half divine.
+A bitter, bootless victory mine,
+He cannot choose but to love me still!
+
+
+XV.
+
+Whose was the fault, the blame?
+She has fled and left him free,
+Free! but a stain of shame
+Rests on the proud old name.
+At a bitter cost she has set him free--
+Free! with a blemished fame.
+
+And he with the pride of his race,
+With a resolute, calm control,
+Locks in his heart the heart's disgrace,
+Shows of his shame no subtlest trace,
+Hiding the hurt of a stricken soul
+'Neath the calm of a passionless face.
+
+He had deemed it a cowardly thing to fly
+While the village prated anent his shame,
+And an added blot on his noble name
+    By his own hand to die.
+
+But oft in the deep of night I hear
+Borne on the wild night wind,
+The beat of the mare's hoofs thundering past,
+And my heart is clutched by an icy fear
+Of a direful thing that may chance at last;
+For ride he never so far, so fast--
+Black Care rides hard behind.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+Last night as I stood in the gloaming's gray,
+Ere the moon came into the sky,
+He came to me for a last good-bye--
+    At last he is going away.
+
+His face in the dusk showed stern and set,
+Old and haggard and worn with pain;
+"Dear, I may never see you again--
+    Mine but the meed regret!
+How can I ask you to share my shame,
+How can I give you my blemished name,
+    Yet how shall the heart forget?
+
+Naught in my life save a dream have I,
+A dream--a vision, too fair to be,
+A rose that blooms 'mid the rue for me--
+    Naught but a dream ... Good-bye."
+
+And then, ere he lifted his bridle rein
+To ride away down the dark'ning land,
+He bent and touched with his lips the hand
+I had laid on the chestnut's mane.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+Something ... my senses will scarce recall ...
+The horror they came in the night to tell ...
+The mare had galloped riderless home,
+Blown and bleeding and flecked with foam,
+And they found him there by the sunken wall,
+Hurt to the death by the desperate fall.
+How it had chanced, he could only tell,
+Ere the merciful numbness stole his brain;
+How the chestnut rose to the leap and fell....
+Then his senses closed on the shocks of pain.
+He spoke, they told me, but once again--
+To whisper my name with his struggling breath--
+(Thank God, he suffered so brief a while)
+Then peacefully sank on the breast of Death,
+    Dead, with his lips asmile.
+
+How can I wish him alive again,
+Lying so peacefully, placidly still,
+With that carven smile on his marble face.
+How can I pray that his heart should thrill
+To waking and waking's pain?
+Lying so peacefully, placidly still.
+With the old, sweet smile on his quiet face,
+Dead to the sting of a heart's disgrace....
+How should I wish him a lesser grace,
+How should I strive with a wiser Will?
+Yet how can the heart that is reft divine
+Death's mystical, measureless charity?
+The cry of the stricken king is mine:
+    "Would I had died for thee!"
+
+
+
+
+Severance
+
+
+Not severed by long leagues of lonely land,
+  Nor sundered by wide wastes of sounding sea;
+But ever side by side and hand in hand,
+  And yet--apart are we.
+
+
+
+
+Spartacus
+
+
+He stands storm-browed, imperial, chief
+  Of all Rome's gladiators; brave
+  Beyond all others; fearless in belief,
+    A captive--but no slave.
+His brow is like a god's--a brow of power,
+  Lips soft with human sweetness--ere the day
+  He entered the arena, and the hour
+    He first beheld man's life-blood mixed with clay.
+
+Felt rise within him bestial strange desires
+  And savage instincts in a brutal heart
+  That battened on men's blood; burned with unhallowed fires
+    Of slaughter--till--a thing apart,
+A hired butcher of his fellow men, he stands
+  Daring the fasting lion in his den,
+  Or some fierce gladiator on the blood-stained sands,--
+    A savage chief of yet more savage men!
+
+He stands, with massive throat and thews of steel,
+  While loud acclaims the listening heavens fill,
+  And Roman women smile. He does not know; or feel
+    A moment's joy or one triumphant thrill.
+He heeds them not. He sees as in a dream
+  His home and Cyrasella's citron groves;
+  A youth again, beside some purling stream,
+    With gladsome heart and joyous pipe he roves.
+
+He sees anon that gentle shepherd boy,
+  Who knew no harsher sound than plaining flute,
+  In the arena stand--Rome's sport and toy--
+    A bestial, blood-stained hireling brute....
+Then swift thro' every throbbing, pulsing vein
+  The fierce unconquered spirit of old Sparta ran.
+  Rome's fiercest gladiator is to-day again
+    A Thracian--and a man!
+
+
+
+
+The Dead Leader
+
+
+After the waiting and the anguished weeping
+    He lies at rest at last.
+How should we mourn him tranced in peaceful sleeping,
+    His pain all past!
+
+The Right's Excalibur his strong arm wielded
+    A little space lies low;
+The victor in life's sometime strife has yielded
+    To man's last Foe.
+
+Late--all too late--our loyal tribute giving
+    A loyal, fearless soul!
+He whom we honored late--so late--while living,
+    Lies dead beside the goal.
+
+Yet this the solace of these long sad hours
+    While we who loved him weep,
+We breathe an answering message in our flowers
+    To him who lies asleep.
+
+To him whom soon the deep, cold earth must cover,
+    To him whose dying breath
+Left to our hearts a message bridging over
+    The dark abyss of Death.
+
+
+
+
+Hagar
+
+
+To have known Heaven and then to walk in Hell!
+Is it not hell to know his face no more,
+Supplanted, spurned and thrust without his door.
+Seeing another with my loved lord dwell
+Sheltered within the tents of wedded love
+While I must roam the desert of Despair?
+Ah, God above me harken to my prayer!
+Send down thy mercy on me as a dove
+Folding its white wings on my tortured breast.
+Let me not see the anguish of my child
+With hunger torn, with thirst's consuming wild,
+Strike us, oh God, into Thy deep dark Rest!
+Lo! I have sinned. I kneel and kiss the rod,
+But she, the wife, who cast us forth to die ...
+I curse her not! Judge Thou between us, God,
+Which in Thy sight is guiltier, she or I?
+
+
+
+
+Water-Lilies
+
+
+They float ethereal, unearthly white
+  Upon the bosom of the darkling mere,
+Raying the dusk with slumbrous silver light--
+  Eidolons of lost moons erst mirrored there.
+
+
+
+
+Salvias
+
+
+Wooing the wind's wild caresses,
+  Courting the sun's fierce flame--
+Wantons in cardinal dresses
+  Flaunting their scarlet shame.
+
+
+
+
+Yellow Jessamine
+
+
+Like little yellow stars that, fallen down,
+  Hang pendulous, enmeshed among the boughs,
+Mild golden radiances they gem the crown
+  Fair Summer sets upon her beauteous brows.
+
+
+
+
+Sunflowers
+
+
+They bloom in lowly places--
+  Unmeet for fairer beds--
+Like swarthy Ethiop faces
+  With yellow-turbaned heads.
+
+
+
+
+The Rose
+
+
+All Orient odors, spikenard, balm and myrrh,
+  Perfumes of Araby and farthest Ind--
+Sweet incense from the chaliced heart of her
+  She pours upon the feet of every wind.
+
+
+
+
+Circe
+
+I.
+
+
+Where fair Ææia smiles across the sea
+To olive-crowned Italia, th' enchantress dwells--
+A woman set about with dreams and spells,
+Weird incantations, charms and mystery.
+Most strangely pale and strangely fair is she--
+Yet deadlier than the hemlock draught her smile,
+Darker than Stygian glooms her subtle guile....
+Drawn by her deep eyes' spell, across the sea
+The Argive galleys wing, till beached they lie
+Upon the fatal strand. The Greeks beguile
+The hasting hours with revelry and wine
+Within her halls.... Eftsoon strange sorcery
+The Circe weaves. They who were men erewhile
+Now grovel at her feet, transformed to swine.
+
+
+II.
+
+'Neath myriad mellow tapers' golden glow
+A woman stands, proud, insolent and fair;
+A single gem meshed in the dusk-dyed hair
+Burns like the evening star descending low
+Adown the dark'ning sky. Upon the snow
+Of her full-blossomed breast deep rubies lie.
+Her fragrant presence breathes sweet sorcery;
+The shimmering saffron satin's flexile flow
+Outlines each sinuous curve; a sensuous smile,
+A touch that fires to flame each pulsant vein--
+One draught of eyes more deep than depths of wine
+The senses steal, the soul and brain beguile
+Till all seem merged in feeling ... and again
+A Circe's spells transform men into swine.
+
+
+
+
+To A. M. M.
+
+
+She is so shy, this little love of mine,
+  So pale and pure, almost I fear to speak
+The love that thrills my every pulse like wine
+  Yet brings no answering flush to her fair cheek.
+
+She is so calm that Passion's stirring strain
+  To chanson soft and low unbidden dies;
+The while her longing lover sighs in vain
+  For one soft love-glance from her down-dropped eyes.
+
+A lily she that from its garden bed,
+  Into the golden sunshine glad and sweet
+Lifts to far sapphire skies its radiant head,
+  Unheedful of the base weeds at its feet.
+
+Yet--should one loving reverently kneel
+  And draw the lily's close-shut leaves apart,
+Perchance those waxen petals might reveal
+  Enshrined within, a glowing golden heart.
+
+
+
+
+Loveless
+
+
+As some poor starveling at a palace gate
+  Sees curtained gleams from banquet-litten halls,
+Hears song out-ringing from the festal walls,
+  Scents viands that shall princely palates sate,
+Yet in the outer gloom may only wait,
+  Crouched in the cold, thrice-thankful for some least
+Mean morsel flung him from the plenteous feast--
+  Poor bondman to the ball and chain of Fate!
+So, lonely at Love's outer gate I stand
+  And glimpse the brightness and the bliss within,
+Where love-lit smiles transmute the dark to day--
+  I wait without--I may not enter in;
+Long, wistfully, I gaze--then void of hand
+  And starved of spirit, sadly turn away.
+
+
+
+
+Clytie--The Sunflower
+
+(To F. H.)
+
+
+In pale green twilight lands
+    Under the sea
+Her rainbow palace stands,
+  Irised and opaline;
+  Agate and almondine,
+Corals and pearly shells
+Swept from deep ocean dells,
+  Strewing the silver strands,
+  Starring the golden sands
+In the green twilight lands
+    Under the sea.
+
+All thro' the dreamy day
+    Under the sea
+Where the sea-maidens play,
+  Twining foam-garlands fair,
+  Girding their golden hair,
+Clad in her moss-robe green
+Veiled in her bright locks' sheen--
+  Where the dim seaweeds sway,
+  Trackless her white feet stray
+All thro' the dreamy day
+    Under the sea.
+
+Or like a star she glides
+    Over the sea,
+Deftly her steeds she guides--
+  Gold-fish that glint and gleam,
+  Jewels alive they seem--
+Softly the surges swell,
+Rocking the rosy shell
+  Where the sea-maiden rides,
+  Wafture of wooing tides,
+Swift as a star she glides
+    Over the sea.
+
+One day she lifts her eyes
+    Up from the sea
+Where the great sun-god flies
+  Over the world afar,
+  Guiding his golden car--
+All his star brow aglow,
+All his bright hair aflow;
+  Dawn in his radiance lies,
+  Dusk at his coming dies--
+Hapless she lifts her eyes
+    Up from the sea.
+
+Swiftly his steeds speed on
+    Over the sea,
+Soon is the splendor flown,
+  Lone on the shore she stands.
+  Stretching imploring hands,
+Lifting impassioned eyes
+Where the last sun-gleam dies;
+  All the day's brightness gone,
+  Hapless she stands alone,
+Heedless the god speeds on
+    Over the sea.
+
+Ever her wistful gaze
+    Over the sea
+Yearns on the sun-god's rays--
+  Till by some subtle power
+  Changed to a golden flower--
+Still in her robe of green,
+Crowned with her gold hair's sheen
+  Slight on her stem she sways ...
+  Yet does her yearning gaze
+Follow the sun-god's rays
+    Over the sea.
+
+
+
+
+In Bondage
+
+
+What can it profit a man tho' he have the soul of a god
+Sunk in the form of a beast, with a senseless simian face--
+What can the world perceive of the subtler inward grace
+Breathing upon the dust of the coarse clay clod?
+What knows the world of me--the Me that is prisoned within--
+Seeing only the self that sickens its sensitive eyes--
+How can it know that this hateful mask hides not the sneer of Sin,
+That this cloak of crass, crude flesh, is a trusty soul's disguise?
+
+What can I hope to win? Which of the gifts men prize?
+What can I have or hold of the bounteous boon I crave--
+I, with the coarse stubbed hands, the dull and narrow eyes,
+The low-browed leer of the brutal, base-born slave?
+What can I know of Love? I, with my ape-like face,
+Frighting the tender trust of the timorous, shrinking maid,
+Who, drawn by my deep soul's spell, half-yields to the soul's embrace
+Then looks on its hideous mask and trembles and flees dismayed.
+
+Yet must the soul of fire chained to this cursed clay,
+Galled by its fetters of flesh, seared with a thousand scars,
+Shriek and struggle and beat its breast on its prison bars
+Thro' the night's long dark of despair till the dawning of ultimate day,
+Till the glow of that ultimate dawn transfigure the tortured face
+And the sacred fire within crumble the coarse clay clod.
+Till the Soul, breathed on by an unseen, unknown Grace,
+Stripped of its bonds of flesh, stand face to face with its God!
+
+
+
+
+To a Singer
+
+
+Beneath thy Midas touch life's sullen grays
+Are thrilled to sudden gold; as some far gleam
+From wings of Helios athwart thy dream
+Irradiates for thee earth's darksome ways.
+Wild woodland voices ripple thro' thy lays;
+Sweet silvern murmurs from some deep-delled spring,
+Brook, tree and flower and each insensate thing,
+The throstle's call, the calm of sun-steeped days,
+A glint of sunshine on the swallow's wing,
+Fern-filagrees, the drowsy drone of bee
+Made drunk with draughts of purple wild-grape wine;
+All these Orphèan music holds for thee,
+And all thy days and dreams companioning
+Walks Nature with her hand close-clasped in thine.
+
+
+
+
+Blossom of Brine
+
+
+Morn! and a white sail winging
+Over the sunlit waves;
+A song on the breezes ringing
+Up from the coral caves
+Where sea-nymphs, white arms lifting
+Wreaths for the sea-god twine
+Of the frail foam-flowers drifting
+On the wave-crests--blossom of brine.
+
+Night! and a dark rack flying
+Over the sullen waves;
+A dirge on the night winds sighing
+Up from the cold sea caves
+Where sea-nymphs white arms lifting
+Wreaths for a pall entwine
+For a still white face is drifting
+On the wave-crest--blossom of brine.
+
+
+
+
+A Memory
+
+
+Strange that across the vast of varied years,
+  Fraught with life's wonted alloy--mingled joy and pain--
+Sun-kissed with smiles or gloomed with mists of tears,
+  Old memories should wake to life again.
+Old thoughts and dreams, words breathed by lips long dumb,
+  Songs sung by voices silent now for aye,
+Like hosts of speechless spectres thronging come
+  Dim formless wraiths of each dear vanished day.
+
+Strange that a fragment of a life replete,
+  A few brief hours as men measure time,
+A chapter in life's book, closed now--yet vaguely sweet
+  As odor-laden zephyrs from some far-off clime--
+Should drift across my heart while joysome memories rise
+  Of golden moments snatched from Arcady,
+Of silver sails and opal-tinted skies,
+  Of viridescent earth and sapphire sea.
+
+Of Lotus-land where pleasure dreamful lies,
+  Of kindred souls responsive each to each,
+Of thoughts half hidden by deep-tinted eyes--
+  (Sweet traitors telling that denied to speech!)
+The merest fragment of a life replete,
+  A sun-gleam 'mid existence's sombre grays,
+Eyes, hands and hearts that for one moment meet
+  In strange, sweet yearning ... then--divided ways.
+
+
+
+
+To Margaret
+
+
+Maiden of varying mood,
+Thalia thou hast wooed,
+    Thespis thereafter,
+Till 'neath thy lyric sway
+Each heart must tribute pay--
+    Tears blent with laughter.
+So in the days to be
+This do we crave for thee,
+    Through life's hereafter,
+Throughout the changing years,
+May all thy griefs and tears
+    Be blent with laughter.
+
+
+
+
+Regret
+
+
+  Shimmer of rose and pearl,
+Sheen on an opal sky;
+  Day's crimson banners unfurl,
+Purple-pleached shadow-gleams die;
+  Dawn flowers bourgeoning fair,
+Meads with the dawn-dews wet;
+  Rare is the morn--ah, rare!
+But in the heart, regret--
+    A vague regret.
+
+  Clouds like the scattered snow
+Stippling a sapphire sky;
+  Fervor and heat and glow,
+Zephyrs that swoon and die.
+  Drowseth the nooning air
+On meads with red poppies set;
+  Fair is the day--ah, fair!
+But in the heart, regret--
+    And still ... regret.
+
+  Flashes of burning gold,
+Flushes of crimson light
+  Faint on a waning wold,
+Stealeth the silent night.
+  One from a casement bar
+Leaneth with lashes wet,
+  Watching the last wan star
+Fade like a heart's regret--
+    A vain regret.
+
+
+
+
+"God Bless You, Dear"
+
+
+Dear patient face and placid brow,
+  Dear lips that smiled despite of pain,
+Brave toil-worn hands, so helpful now,
+  Sweet spirit free from earthly stain.
+Within the doorway Mother stands,
+  The while a merry barefoot lad,
+Across the springtime meadow-lands
+  Goes whistling schoolward, blithe and glad;
+And where the pathway breasts the hill,
+  I stay my steps and turn to hear
+Her loving voice, as lingering still,
+  She calls, "Good-bye! God bless you, dear."
+
+Dear patient face and furrowed brow,
+  Dear lips that smile thro' all life's pain,
+Brave toil-worn hands, so weary now,
+  Sweet soul unmarred by earthly stain.
+Within the doorway Mother stands,
+  The while a man oppressed with care,
+Across the waning Autumn lands,
+  Goes toil-ward, fain to strive and bear;
+And where the pathway breasts the hill,
+  I stay my steps and turn to hear
+Her trembling voice, as ling'ring still,
+  She calls, "Good-bye! God bless you, dear."
+
+Dear peaceful face and placid brow,
+  Dear lips that smile secure from pain,
+Brave toil-worn hands, soft-folded now,
+  Sweet spirit freed from earthly stain.
+Within God's portal Mother stands,
+  The while a man forspent with care
+Seeketh the far-off meadow-lands,
+  By faith made strong to strive and bear.
+And as I breast life's weary hill,
+  I ofttimes pause--meseems I hear
+The well-loved accents breathing still
+  The old fond prayer, "God bless you, dear."
+
+
+
+
+Roses
+
+
+"Where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?"--Rubàiyat.
+
+A red rose burns upon his breast
+  Where erst a white rose lay;
+Above his fervent heart-throb pressed--
+  The red rose of To-day.
+
+What recks he of the flower that dies--
+  (For roses bloom alway!)
+Low in the dust, forgotten, lies
+  The rose of Yesterday.
+
+But yet, To-day's red rose must die,
+  (For roses fade alway!)
+To-morrow crushed, forgot, 'twill lie--
+  A rose of Yesterday.
+
+
+
+
+The Poet
+
+
+One fluting on sad wolds Pan's flight left drear,
+  One crying down the wayward wind of Chance,
+One piping unto feet that will not dance
+  And mourning unto ears that will not hear.
+
+
+
+
+Shylock
+
+
+Cold craft and avarice look from out his eyes,
+His face with evil passion marred and seamed,
+Looks frowningly upon a Christian world.
+Behind that hateful mask a demon lurks
+To urge the narrow soul to darksome deeds
+Of violence and greed, of hate and ruth.
+His God, a God of wrath, a tyrant force
+To mete to helpless souls eternal doom;
+A Juggernaut, a hard unsentient power,--
+But yet less potent than the yellow gold
+Those crooked talons clutch, and for the which
+The miser Shylock fain would sell his soul.
+
+
+
+
+Sonnet
+
+(To Charles J. O'Malley.)
+
+
+As when above orchestral undertone,
+  The plaining wail of muted violin,
+  The hushed oböe and the distant din,
+Of muffled drum or viol's raucous groan--
+Sudden arises one pure voice-like tone,
+  A silver trumpet's tongue that stirs the soul
+  To feel the theme, and the harmonious whole
+A sonant setting seems for that alone;
+So, high above earth's murmurous stir and strife,
+  Riseth thy voice in clear enringing song--
+  No minor plaint of dull despairing pain,
+But one true note of hope that bids us long
+  For higher things; and all the din of life
+  Seems to subserve the sweetness of thy strain.
+
+
+
+
+Antithesis
+
+
+The poet wrought a song of sadness, fraught
+  With all the pain the world's sad heart hath proved;
+He sang of doubt, and dreams that end in naught ...
+  Then, smiling, turned and kissed the lips he loved.
+
+The poet wrought a song of joyance, thrilled
+  With all the peace the world's glad heart hath kept;
+He sang of hope and happy dreams fulfilled ...
+  Then bent his face upon his hands and wept.
+
+
+
+
+In Fortune's Twilight
+
+
+The old house totters 'neath its weight of years,
+Bowed, like the form of him who shelters there,
+Old, friendless, lone--save for the wanton, Care,
+Who flouts him, mocks his grief with gibes and jeers
+And laughs to see his piteous hopes grow fears.
+Not his the joy of placid, sun-crowned age--
+His dim eyes falter as he scans the page
+Of Life's worn album, blotted with his tears.
+He sees in dreams the wife he loved--long dead;
+The son--once proud to bear his father's name--
+Who mixed his honest blood with dire disgrace;
+The wayward girl who wrought her father shame ...
+He sits alone with Care; the day has fled
+And twilight falls, upon the furrowed face.
+
+
+
+
+Fate
+
+
+Thro' countless æons sunless and remote
+  A Soul went searching for its spirit mate,
+Thro' star-stained space, o'er wind-swept deep, afloat,
+  Forever desolate.
+
+Anon, another spirit, lone of heart
+  Goes forth thro' voiceless void to seek its mate;
+Eftsoon they meet, these twain, strike hands ... and part!
+  And this is Fate.
+
+
+
+
+The Path of Dreams
+
+
+Beside the stream that silverly steals on
+To swell the song of that far-sounding sea
+Which breaks upon the utmost shore of Thought,
+They who have drunk at Song's immortal spring
+Walk with glad feet the upland path of dreams
+That whitely winds thro' long low-lying lands--
+By one, yclept the Way of Fools--a plain
+Of dust and ashes and of Dead Sea fruit;
+But by another called the Path of Hope
+That leads far up the slope of heart's desire;--
+And haply both speak truth--for oft the way
+Is set with stones that tear the climbing feet,
+And oft for roses there is bitter rue,
+And oft for singing there is idle scorn,
+And sneers full oft for smiles. Yet well we know
+The upland Path of Dreams that whitely winds
+(Yclept or Way of Fools or Path of Hope)
+Leads upward ever to the Hills of Song!
+
+Beside the silent stream whose soundless tide
+Sets ever to the unknown tideless sea
+They who have drunk of Slumber's poppied draught
+Walk with unsandalled feet the path of dreams
+That winds thro' gray, low-lying fields of sleep
+To dim dream shores girt with dim spectre-trees,
+Swayed ever by the sweep of unseen wings,
+Slow-stirring palms and arabesques of ferns
+And fields of sombre bloom and scentless flowers
+Not of their wonted hue, but dimly gray,
+Where songless birds like shades of shadows flit,
+And silent winds from poppied meadows blow--
+And here dear presences to us denied
+By sterner Day, approach to cry us hail;
+And here a little do we taste the joy
+Of kisses dreamed on lips forever mute,
+A little know the bliss of Hope fulfilled,
+And dreams that seem as true as very Truth ...
+Yet well we know that with the stir of dawn,
+Waking, we must return from Sleep's far fields!
+Beside the Lethean stream whose soundless tide
+Sets ever to the unknown tideless Sea
+That breaks upon the farthest unknown shore--
+They who have quaffed dark Asrael's mystic draught
+Walk with still feet the viewless Path of Dreams
+That winds thro' long, low-lying fields of Sleep
+To fields Elysian or Tartarian glooms;
+And haply, longed-for presences denied
+By sterner Life shall come to cry us hail,--
+Bright radiances from realms of light eterne,
+Or shadows from the shades of awful Dis--
+But whether here we taste of Hope fulfilled,
+Or find our dreams are but as drifted dust--
+From dark of Dis or realms of Light eterne,
+Full well we know we shall return no more!
+
+
+
+
+An Autumn Song
+
+
+The dim sun slips adown the sky
+That dies from gold to gray;
+The homing birds that Southward fly
+To my heart's hailing make reply,
+  Piping "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+Southward I turn my wistful eyes,
+Southward, where all my treasure lies,
+Whither the homing sparrow flies,
+  Piping, "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+The chill blast sweeps the steely sky
+That glooms a sullen gray;
+Soft summer winds that Southward fly
+To my soul's sighing make reply
+  Breathing "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+Southward I turn my longing eyes,
+Southward my yearning spirit hies,
+Whither or bird or zephyr flies
+  Sighing "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+
+
+
+Vain
+
+
+Wreath of laurel and crown of bay
+  And the noisy trump of Fame,
+Praise for the singer's deathless lay,
+  And a listening world's acclaim.
+
+But the singer sits with his grief alone
+  Where love lies cold and dead.
+The plaudits fall on a heart of stone;
+  The Soul of the song has fled.
+
+
+
+
+Sartor Resartus
+
+
+Ah, God be merciful to him who sees
+Thro' ermined pomp and pageantry of kings,
+Thro' regal mien and beauty's witcheries
+The poor, weak, shrivelled soul that crouches hid
+Within the body's hold! Thrice-cursed is he
+Whose soul sees souls of others face to face,
+Who strips the outer man like vestments off
+And views the naked heart in all its shame
+And poverty; who still must rend the veil
+Of motive, purpose, false humanity
+And futile pretense! God! to walk this world
+Doomed still to see what others fain would hide,
+Reading men's thoughts as scholars read the page
+Of some old language dead to all save them;
+Seeing beneath the tender woman flesh,
+The woman-grace, the pleading woman-eyes,
+The grisly skeleton, the hollow ribs,
+The eyeless sockets and the grinning jaw;
+Reading for aye the sneer beneath the smile,
+The lie that lurks behind the seeming truth;
+To know that such, or haply worse, am I,
+A living lie, false prophet to myself,
+Clothed on with shimmering robes of fallacy
+And vain deceit! Ah God, where is the truth?
+Are all men false or lies the fault in me
+Who, vulture-like, seize only on the taint,
+And leave the pure? If haply thus it be
+In pity take away the subtle sight
+That pierces thought. Give back the old fond faith,
+The young belief in all humanity;
+Hide from my view the canker in the rose,
+The taint in truth, the blight upon the bloom.
+
+Far better 'twere to drink the hemlock draught
+And, happy, deem it nectar than to find
+The drop of gall within the nectared cup.
+Far better trust repaid with treachery
+Than doubt confirmed! Ah, Thou all-seeing God
+Who art the Truth, make me to see the truth;
+Lift from my soul the shadow; in the room
+Of doubt, send trust. Let me believe again;
+Help me to see the highest in mankind!
+
+
+
+
+Illumed
+
+
+Like to a little child, whose straying feet,
+Tracking the fox-fire's guiling glint and gleam,
+Have wandered far afield by marsh and stream
+While just before the wavering glimmers fleet
+On and still on where sky and meadow meet,
+Till, spent and fearful in the gathering gloom,
+At last he sees the guiding light of home,
+Where love awaits and mother-kisses sweet.
+So was it mine through fens of doubt to stray
+Pursuing still some fair ephemeron,
+Or fleeting gleam, or shimmering fallacy,
+Till through the deepening dusk a beacon shone
+Set by the hand of Love to light the way
+O Father, to implicit trust in Thee!
+
+
+
+
+In the Play
+
+
+In a painted "Forest of Arden," in the glare of the garish light,
+In doublet and hose, be-powdered and rouged, you sigh to me night by night;
+Attuned to the sway of your cadenced voice, as a harp to the wooing wind,
+I thrill at the touch of your painted lips--for--"_I am your Rosalind!_"
+
+Could you know that my art in seeming was a dearer thing than art,
+That the love-words spoken nightly spring straight from a loving heart;
+Could you know that my soul speaks to you--aye soul and spirit and mind!
+When I gaze deep into your eyes and breathe--"_And I am your Rosalind!_"
+
+To you 'tis a vain dissembling--a part of the work of the day,
+And the words that your voice makes music, but the dull, dead lines of
+  the play.
+Little you care for the woman you woo, save as a foil designed.
+To prove your skill as a lover--yet--"_I am your Rosalind!_"
+
+I merge in the player, the woman! The actress good at her art
+Must needs look well to each glance and tone, must needs play still
+  her part--
+
+Tho' the woman's soul that must else be mute; aye soul and spirit and mind!
+Cry to your soul in another's words--"_And I am your Rosalind!_"
+
+
+
+
+To E. P. B.
+
+
+Imperial as that famed Elizabeth
+  Before whose feet a knight his cloak cast down--
+A sovereign--altho' thine only crown
+  Love's roses 'twine for thee, Elizabeth.
+
+Ah, maiden sweeter than morn's nectared breath,
+  Across thy path no regal robe I fling--
+Only a living, loving heart I bring
+  To lay at thy dear feet, Elizabeth.
+
+
+
+
+Through the Dark
+
+
+Last night they laid me in my winding sheet,
+  Set burning tapers at my feet and head,
+Decked me with wan white blossoms faint and sweet,
+  And told each other softly, "She is dead."
+
+Ay, dumb and dead! Enshrouded, cold and stark
+  I lay where waned the tawny tapers dim,
+Pulseless and pale; yet thro' the dreadful dark
+  I lived in thoughts of _him_.
+
+The morning came. One who had loved me bent
+  Above my face with tears and bated breath;
+Laid on my heart the roses _he_ had sent--
+  And I--was glad of death!
+
+
+
+
+Preluding
+
+
+Frail fronds of ferns uncurling,
+Blue iris flags unfurling,
+Pale showers of blossoms swirling
+Like clouds of wind-blown snow;
+With fragile wildings playing,
+Like two blithe children maying,
+Across the glad meads straying,
+    Together, dear, we go.
+
+The silver clouds far-drifting,
+Vague lights and shadows shifting,
+The sungleams gold-dust sifting
+Down thro' the latticed leaves;
+Gray brooks the meadows lacing,
+Young flow'rs the uplands gracing,
+Her faery 'broidery tracing
+    The skillful spider weaves.
+
+From long, long day-dreams shaken,
+The vivid violets waken;
+His Southern haunts forsaken,
+The bluebird flecks the sky;
+Ah, breath of bloom-bright heather,
+Ah, golden Maytime weather,
+We drift in dreams together--
+    Together, you and I.
+
+
+
+
+The Heights of Silence
+
+(Transcribed from "The Choir Invisible.")
+
+
+Above the valleys, peopled, fair and warm,
+  Rise the bleak, silent uplands where abide
+Wraiths of lost loves, love's recompense denied,
+  Unspoken, unconfessed, unsatisfied....
+Cold, silent heights, engirt with zones of storm,
+  Where Love for aye unmated must abide.
+
+The broad, sweet downward vistas of the flesh
+  Stretch fair and far; the calm white spirit-height
+Is lone and chill; there dimly shines the light
+  Of sun and star that burns and beacons bright
+Where Sin spreads still her guiling, glitt'ring mesh.
+  Ah, warm the valley! Lone and chill the height!
+
+Yet he who wins the height's sublimity--
+  The silent height where loves unlived abide,
+Loves stainless, sublimated, purified--
+  Shall glimpse that land, to grosser view denied,
+Where love and longing infinite shall be
+  Or ever stilled--or ever satisfied.
+
+
+
+
+Andromeda
+
+
+Bound ever to a great grey rock of Doom,
+  Striving with futile hands to rive the chain
+Of woven fear, distrust and subtle pain,
+  While gaunt wolf-waves that leap from out the gloom
+Of doubt's cold sea are snarling at my feet,
+  As nearer writhes the dragon of Despair
+Foul with dank horrors of his caverned lair,
+  And like a clock of doom the dark tides beat....
+I lift my eyes; Lo! sudden sweeps along
+  Thought's empyrean and the vast of dreams
+One star-browed, Jove-like, human-orbed; meseems
+  His feet are winged with music, shod with song;
+Ah, Perseus, should'st thou, pitying, leave the sky
+  To loose my bonds--then all the fear were gone,
+Soul touching soul, trust from distrust were won,
+  Like god and goddess 'fronted, thou and I;
+Despair were slain, closed the unequal strife,
+  Thy great soul's strength should make weak purpose strong,
+Thy hand should lead me up the slopes of Song,
+  Thy winged feet guide me to the peaks of Life!
+
+
+
+
+Requital
+
+
+What tho' you loved me once? Man's love at best
+  Is but a mood--the fancy of an hour,
+You held all faith and truth a theme for jest,
+  Love's recompense, a smile. You knew your power.
+
+What tho' you loved me then? You went away
+  And left my life an arid waste of pain;
+And now--your best years spent, your idols clay--
+  You stretch imploring arms to me again.
+
+What tho' you love me still? What tho' you say
+  The current of your life toward mine is set,
+As vagrant stars obey the planets' sway,
+  Or perfume clingeth to the violet?
+
+What tho' I once loved you? See in yon West
+  Day's fires have burned to ashes cold and gray;
+So in my quiet heart love's wild unrest
+  By its own flame consumed, is dead for aye.
+
+
+
+
+When Fades the Light
+
+
+When fades the light along the western sky,
+  When dies the last dim rose to subtlest gray,
+When darkling mere and mead enshadowed lie,
+  And Night's wide arms enfold the wearied Day;
+When tired lilies ring their vesper bells
+  And dusking leaves speak whispered orison,
+When cassocked Twilight breathing benison
+  His rosary of flashing fireflies tells--
+Then ends the day-long struggle. Strong no more
+  I drift far out on Fancy's phantom sea,
+Setting full sail for that forbidden shore
+  Where waiteth Love for me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When fades the light from out my dying eyes,
+  And soul and sense seem slipping soft away,
+When Death's swift shallop launched on Lethe lies
+  Waiting to wing me to the unknown Gray;
+When things of time and thought grow strangely dim,
+  And the pent spirit strains to loose its bands
+Till from the fettered feet and helpless hands
+  Shall fall life's shackles pitiless and grim--
+Then shall the conflict cease. Enchained no more
+  My soul shall sail the silent unknown sea
+Until it touch the unforbidden shore
+  Where Love awaiteth me.
+
+
+
+
+Butterflies
+
+
+As if a bed of bloom had taken wing--
+  Bright marigolds, nasturtiums, zinnias gay--
+They breast the breeze or, lightly poising, cling
+  To other flowers not animate as they.
+
+
+
+
+In the Dark Forest
+
+
+The long gray twilight falls and deeper glooms
+  Close round the graying wood that dimmer grows
+As dies the Day's last yearning tint of rose,
+  And Dusk spins shadows on her eldritch looms.
+The black bat flits, the eerie white moth flies--
+  Wan ghost of yesterday's bright butterfly--
+The dusking forest pools uplooking lie
+  Like graveless dead men's staring, sightless eyes.
+
+Ah, eerie, eerie is the lonely wood,
+  But lo! the faeries light their firefly lamps,
+Elusive foxfire flames from marish damps;
+  Hastes to the morris-dance an elfin brood;
+A far bell chimes, the cricket cheerly shrills,
+  The droning beetle sounds his hoarse bassoon
+And hylas trill; eftsoon the rising moon
+  The ambient air to molten silver thrills.
+
+Then all the lyric night is set to song!
+  The cuckoo calls, the plaining whippoorwill
+Cries faint and far away; more distant still
+  The hoopoe, hid his marshy haunts among,
+Wails with the cry of some lost soul in pain;
+  The nightingale engilds the pulsant dark
+With golden-throated melody--but hark!
+  The night-jar's discord mars the perfect strain.
+
+The night wears on, black shadows throng apace,
+  The wood is still, the moon grows wan and old,
+White marsh-mists wreathe like clammy arms, death-cold,
+  And moth-wings like dead fingers sweep my face;
+The bittern wailing leaves the sombre pool,
+  Voicing the world-old pain that never dies;
+The owl with ghoulish laughter outward flies
+  Like some weird Vivien shrieking, "Fool!" and "Fool!"
+
+
+
+
+Insatiate
+
+
+What though she lieth mute on yonder hill?
+  Though ivy green and shadowy eglatere
+  Have held in tender fold through many a year
+Her quiet grave, I fear her--fear her still.
+
+He loved her once. Ay, though he hold me fast
+  And sear my lips with kisses burning-sweet,
+  No touch of mine can make his life replete
+For man's first love is oftentimes his last.
+
+A still face glimmers through my dreams for aye.
+  E'en when I strain him close with feverish grasp
+  Wan grave-cold fingers loose the clinging clasp,
+And grave-cold lips my fervid kisses stay.
+
+She lives incarnate in each flower fair,
+  Her eyes illume the violets in my hand,
+  The golden-rod that lights the Autumn land
+Seems but the scattered star-dust of her hair.
+
+Love's perfect flower may never bloom for me--
+  For me his wife. For ah! I fear her still
+  Who lies forever mute on yonder hill.
+He loved her once. Would God that I were she!
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes
+
+Table of Contents: Slight listing changes were made to match poem titles.
+
+Page 29: Added opening parenthesis:
+  (And I knew that tho' many a woman had loved you,
+  Till that moment, the glance of no woman had moved you!)
+
+Page 47: Added closing parenthesis:
+  (Thank God, he suffered so brief a while)
+
+Page 70: Corrected wathway to pathway:
+  And where the pathway breasts the hill,
+
+Page 79: Added a blank line after first stanza:
+  Piping "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Path of Dreams, by Leigh Gordon Giltner
+
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+
+<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 The Path of Dreams, by Leigh Gordon Giltner.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
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+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
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+    .center   {text-align: center;}
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+    .poem             {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;}
+    .poem br          {display: none;}
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+    .poem span.i0     {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i2     {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Path of Dreams, by Leigh Gordon Giltner
+
+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: The Path of Dreams
+       Poems
+
+Author: Leigh Gordon Giltner
+
+Release Date: October 25, 2008 [EBook #27024]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATH OF DREAMS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Diane Monico, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+<p class="figcenter" style="width: 349px;">
+<img src="images/image001.jpg" width="349" height="600" alt="Leigh Gordon Giltner" title="Leigh Gordon Giltner" />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>The Path of Dreams</h1>
+
+<h2><i>POEMS</i></h2>
+
+<h2><i>BY LEIGH GORDON GILTNER</i></h2>
+
+<p class="figcenter" style="width: 99px;">
+<img src="images/image002.png" width="99" height="215" alt="" title="" />
+</p>
+
+<h4>Fleming H. Revell Company</h4>
+<h5>Chicago&nbsp;&nbsp; :&nbsp;&nbsp; New York &nbsp;&nbsp;:&nbsp;&nbsp; Toronto</h5>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h6><a name="COPYRIGHT_1900" id="COPYRIGHT_1900"></a>COPYRIGHT 1900</h6>
+
+<h6>BY LEIGH GORDON GILTNER</h6>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="TO_THE_MEMORY_OF_MY_MOTHER" id="TO_THE_MEMORY_OF_MY_MOTHER"></a><i>TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER</i></h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>In Woodland Ways</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Ashes of Roses</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Challenge</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>And Yet ...</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Master-Player</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Afterbloom</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>To Bliss Carman</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>When Love Passed By</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Hedonism ... Euthumism&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a>-<a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Under the Leaves</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Carmen</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>To R. D. MacLean</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Love and Death</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Winter Landscape</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Roses and Rue</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Severance</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Spartacus</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Dead Leader</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Hagar</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Flower-Fancies</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_52">52</a>-<a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Circe</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>To A. M. M.</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Loveless</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Clytie&mdash;The Sunflower</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>In Bondage</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>To a Singer</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Blossom of Brine</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>A Memory</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>To Margaret</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Regret</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>"God Bless You, Dear"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Roses</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Poet</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Shylock</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>To Charles J. O'Malley</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Antithesis</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>In Fortune's Twilight</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Fate</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Path of Dreams</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>An Autumn Song</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Vain</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Sartor Resartus</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Illumed</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>In The Play</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>To E. P. B.</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Through The Dark</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Preluding</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>The Heights of Silence</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Andromeda</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Requital</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>When Fades the Light</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Butterflies</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>In the Dark Forest</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Insatiate</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="To_One_Who_Sleeps" id="To_One_Who_Sleeps"></a>To One Who Sleeps</h2>
+
+<h5>(Obiit, June 8th, 1894.)</h5>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i>
+<span class="i0">Tho' storm and summer shine for long have shed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or blight or bloom above thy quiet bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' loneliness and longing cry thee dead&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou art not dead, belov&egrave;d. Still with me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are whilom hopings that encompass thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dreams of dear delights that may not be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Asleep&mdash;adream perchance, dost thou forget<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sometime sorrow and the fevered fret,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sting of salt tears and long unbreathed regret?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Liest thou here thro' long sunshiny hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Holding sweet converse with the springing flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Harking the singing of the warm sweet showers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fall like happy tears ... dost hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The birds that unafraid assail thine ear&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet art silent when I whisper? Dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Dost thou not hear?<br /></span></i>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><i>
+<span class="i0">Lying so low beneath the bending grass<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In long, still smiling tranced for aye&mdash;alas!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou dost not harken when my footsteps pass.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If haply I some tender thing should tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thee of the springtime flowers thou once loved well&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Anemone and shining asphodel;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should steal from Nature some enchanted lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some bird-song lilted where green branches sway&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heart-music that could stir thy heart alway;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should call thee by the old fond name again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should tell thee all a heart's enduring pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And long rememb'ring, would'st thou mute remain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! nor sigh nor song can thrill the ear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tuned to Israfel's music in the sphere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where things to thee erst dear no more are dear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thou dost not hear!<br /></span></i>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1>THE PATH OF DREAMS</h1>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="In_Woodland_Ways" id="In_Woodland_Ways"></a>In Woodland Ways</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Out of the poignant glare, the shadeless heat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of summer noon, beseech thee follow me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the dim, dream-haunted secrecy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cool, green glooms, the grottoed deep retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of yon old wood; down aisles of lichened trees&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grey Merlins clasped by lissom Viviens<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of clinging vine&mdash;to cloistered sylvan glens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Nature weaves her fairest mysteries.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here let us rest a little&mdash;find surcease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For feet grown weary of the thridded street<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That echoes ever to the ceaseless beat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of human tread;&mdash;a brief while know the ease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of dreamful rest, to slumb'rous languors stilled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Orient rugs of dappled mosses spread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In nooks where blossom, purple, white and red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The flowers Summer's lavish hands have spilled.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wild woodland creatures near us unafraid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some strange enchantment doth the forest hold&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was that a sungleam, or a wand of gold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By tricksy Puck or wanton Ariel swayed?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old oaks and beeches open wide their doors<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hamadryads veiled in golden sheen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Floating diaphanous o'er robes of green<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Walk with still feet the forest's russet floors.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lo, here are fairies hid in flower-bells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There wood-nymphs fleeing from pursuing fauns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And naiads fleshed with hues of rosy dawns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lie dreaming by white streams in dusky dells;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We tread dim paths untrod by foot of man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hark the horn of Dian ringing clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While faint, elusive, thin&mdash;now far, now near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meseems I hear the oaten pipe of Pan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And while o'erhead the plaining wood-dove grieves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cardinal&mdash;a wing&egrave;d, scarlet flower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sprays all the air with song, a golden shower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of flutes-notes sifting downward thro' the leaves.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, sweet enchantment doth the forest hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Nature's self doth haunt these woodland ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My fevered brow on her cool breast she lays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And care slips from me as a garment old.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Ashes_of_Roses" id="Ashes_of_Roses"></a>Ashes of Roses</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Skies glooming overhead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Autumn winds sighing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bare yonder garden bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Flowers low lying.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All their rich radiance fled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All their pale petals shed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wan wraiths of Summer sped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Autumn's closes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crimson and cream and gold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strewn on earth's bosom cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mingling with umber mold&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ashes of roses.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">See, in yon waning West<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rich roses blowing<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">On Heaven's palimpsest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God's message glowing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rose hues and amethyst<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drenched in purpureate mist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darkness with Day keeps tryst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Night's curtain closes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quenched is the burning gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shadowed the upland wold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Day's fires grow dull and cold<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ashes of roses.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So on this heart of mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shadows are lying;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lotus and rue entwine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dim dreams are dying;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stilled is the thrill divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spilled is the amber wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dimly the cold stars shine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wan age discloses<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All youth's bright blossoms dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All love's rare radiance sped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All hope's pure petals shed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ashes of roses.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_Challenge" id="A_Challenge"></a>A Challenge</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To have lived, to have loved, to have triumphed!&mdash;what more can the world bestow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I stand at the close of the conflict, my foot on the neck of my foe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prone in the dust lies the demon Despair, still shouting his shibboleth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the treacherous Amazon dark-browed Fate, and her grisly comrade, Death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have lived! To have felt in my veins the surge of the rich, red tide of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The quickening stir of the strong man's heart that thrills to the sound of strife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have wrested success from defeat, to have striven, and struggled, and won&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall this seem a small thing, think you, when the Battle of Ages is done?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have loved! To have known of all raptures, the rapture supernal, divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To have felt the throb of your heart on my heart and the bloom of your lips pressed to mine;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">To have ranked with the gods on Olympus&mdash;myths tell us immortal Jove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cleft with his swan-wings the blue of the sky for boon of a mortal's love....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have lived, I have loved, I have triumphed! Let Death come, or early or late!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hurl my challenging gauntlet full in the face of Fate!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fate may make wreck of a future&mdash;how can she alter the past?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have tasted the sweets of life's chalice&mdash;why shrink from the lees at the last?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should I cavil at aught that shall come&mdash;I stand with your head on my breast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have fought as I might&mdash;I have gained <i>you</i>, beloved ... to God's mercy the rest!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' the heavens darken above me and the sky be shrunk as a scroll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the wreck and ruin of riven worlds, should I falter, O Soul of my soul?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' the demon Despair, where he vanquished lies, still utter his shibboleth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fling my glove in the face of Fate and smile in the eyes of Death!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="And_Yet" id="And_Yet"></a>And Yet ...</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Upon the meads where we were wont to stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Guiling with springtime hopes the winter hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Spring has smiled; yon slope that late gloomed gray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sternly sad, 'neath April's tender showers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grows green and glad again. The rippled grass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A soundless sea o'er which white cloud-sails pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breaks at my feet in billows foamed with flowers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And blue-eyed myrtle blooms with lashes wet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smile to me thro' their tears. The skies are blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And life is sweet to-day and hope seems true;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart is barren of its long regret&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And yet ...<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The willow wears a wistful green. A dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Summer warmth the wine-sweet breezes hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair wildings blow&mdash;bright buttercups agleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like shining sequins scattered on the wold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And daffodills&mdash;a wealth of faery gold.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The building birds their coming bliss presage<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With lilt and lyric brimming o'er the page<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Nature's volume bound in green and gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here 'mid the birds and blossoms 'neath the blue&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart unburthened of the old regret&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me forget long striving to forget;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For life is sweet to-day and hope seems true&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And yet ...<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Master-Player" id="The_Master-Player"></a>The Master-Player</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mute was the mighty organ. None might break<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silence that had thralled it since was stilled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The master-hand beneath whose touch it thrilled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To music such as choiring seraphs make&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until a mightier Master came to wake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th' elusive chords and subtle harmonies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That lay imprisoned in the cold white keys<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And once again the soul of Music spake.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Methought my soul's most perfect melodies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No hand again to sonance could evoke&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A silent harp whose potence none might prove&mdash;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But, lo! one came who swept its chords and woke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Celestial strains, divinest harmonies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Responsive to the master-touch of Love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Afterbloom" id="Afterbloom"></a>Afterbloom</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gay was her garden as some gorgeous fabric<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Weft on an Orient loom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Star-set upon the sward quaint, old-time blossoms<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wrought broidery of bloom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Verbenas, dahlias, asters, scarlet cannas<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like torches flaming tall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Methought the fair, old face, enframed in silver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sweetest flower of all!)<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And one rare rose she watched each year with hoping<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till the dear eyes grew dim&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ere a single blossom burst in beauty<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">God took her home to Him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet when the Spring next woke the earth to laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And boon of blossom gave,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Starred was the rose with white, unearthly flowers&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We laid them on her grave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so, meseems, the buds we woo most fondly<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor light nor perfume shed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Love's gold-hearted rose and Hope's star-flower<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oft bloom when we are dead.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="To_Bliss_Carman" id="To_Bliss_Carman"></a>To Bliss Carman</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Great hearted brother to the wilderness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Comrade of Wind and Sea! Interpreter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of nomad Nature! Ere the quick'ning stir<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of Spring-sap thrills the wood from sullen stress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Winter's spell&mdash;away from throng&egrave;d press<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of urban ways thy wild feet wander far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tracking the steps of some white Northern star<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose rays are beacon to thy restlessness.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weird mystic of the Northland's mystery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou 'front'st the Unseen Shadow, nor dost fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To meet the Scarlet Hunter on the trail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pagan as Pan; to all things sylvan dear,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature's own vagrant, buoyant, driftless, free&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All winds and woods and waters cry thee hail!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="When_Love_Passed_By" id="When_Love_Passed_By"></a>When Love Passed By</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I dreamt of love in the golden glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of youth unshadowed by cloud or care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Steeped in the love-lore of song and story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I said, "My Love shall be wondrous fair."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I said, "Her hands shall be filled with flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(My heart shall tell me when Love draws nigh!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She shall steal sweet boon from the graceless hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her eyes shall be blue as the cerule sky.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Her hair shall be bright as the stars' gold gleaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her lips shall be red with her heart's rich wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her face shall be fair as my fondest dreaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each pulse of my being shall call her mine!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then long for the voice of my heart I harkened,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tranced in love's hoping&mdash;all hope else forgot&mdash;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">I waited lonely; the daylight darkened,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The twilight deepened&mdash;but love came not.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then One passed by in the dusking shadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The night's dusk shadows slept on her hair&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She passed like a gleam o'er the dew-drenched meadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my heart throbbed fast&mdash;but she was not fair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her face was pale and her dark eyes pleading,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her smile was wistful and gravely sweet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She passed me by where I stood unheeding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dropped a violet at my feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She went her way o'er the silent meadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Ah, traitorous heart that you tricked me so!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I sat alone in the deepening shadows&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love had passed by&mdash;and I did not know.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Hedonism" id="Hedonism"></a>Hedonism</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Since we must sleep the endless Sleep at last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since Life's grim juggernaut 'neath ruthless wheels<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crushes the heart; since Age like Winter steals<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Youth's fair-flowered fields with blighting blast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then to the gods our doubts and fears be cast!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enough of Sorrow! Joyance is our due.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gather the roses! Spurn th' envenomed rue.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fling to the waiting winds the pallid past.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Steep thee in mellow moods and dear desires;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pluck Love's flame-hearted flower ere it dies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cull nectared kisses sweet as morning's breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Warm Chastity at Passion's purple fires;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nepenthe quaff&mdash;till drained the chalice lies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After ... the shrouded sleep, the dreamless dark of Death.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Euthumism" id="Euthumism"></a>Euthumism</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If in the spirit glows no spark divine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If soulless dust return to dust again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If, after life, but death and dark remain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then it were well to make the moment thine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bacchante-steeping soul and sense in wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In lotus-lulling languors, fond desires<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That heat the heart with fierce, unhallowed fires&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till Pleasure, Circe-like, transform us into swine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if some subtler spirit thrill our clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some God-like flame illume this fleeting dust&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Promethean fire snatched from the Olympian height&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then must we choose the nobler, higher Way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeking the Beautiful, the Pure, the Just&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ultimate crowned triumph of the Right!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Under_the_Leaves" id="Under_the_Leaves"></a>Under the Leaves</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The phalanxes of corn stand grim and serried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dull gold the sodden sheaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The violets that smiled with Spring are buried<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Under the leaves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Along the land the Winter's doom is creeping<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All vainly Autumn grieves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she who made my heart's sweet Spring is sleeping<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Under the leaves.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Carmen" id="Carmen"></a>Carmen</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Night in Seville, and the twinkle<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of stars in the far azure set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mandolin's torturing tinkle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The click of the castanet!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Music and wine and low laughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Love and a torment of tune&mdash;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Hate and a poignard thereafter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Under the yellow moon.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here in the night I await her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Under the slumberous moon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yearns my fierce spirit to mate her&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All my sick senses aswoon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the wild sway of her dancing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Passion and pride are at war;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrall to her amorous glancing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Grandee and toreador.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Carmen Gitana, behold her!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bright passion-flower of the South;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft Southern languors enfold her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Scarlet the bloom of her mouth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Passionate, sensuous, cruel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Raying warm laughter and light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A ruby&mdash;a scintillant jewel&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Set on the brow of the Night!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, the wild rhythm of her dancing!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lithe with the jaguar's grace,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, the sweet fire of her glancing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The love-litten lure of her face!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ah, in my fierce arms to hold her<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This strange scarlet flower of the South.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Close to my heart-beat to fold her<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Drinking the wine of her mouth!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweet, thou art weary with dancing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sick of the music and light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Praises and overbold glancing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Steal with me into the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of the riot of laughter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Out of the torment of tune&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love and close kisses thereafter<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Under the sensuous moon!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Carmen, my fierce arms enfold thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bright passion-flower of the South,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Close to my hot heart I hold thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Crushing the flower of thy mouth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love&mdash;for the loving that swayed me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Passion&mdash;for passion long past&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hate&mdash;for the hate that betrayed me ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My dirk in your side at the last!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="To_R_D_MacLean" id="To_R_D_MacLean"></a>To R. D. MacLean</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If words were wing&egrave;d arrows tipped with flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far-flying thro' the vast of time and space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If Erato should lend me some rare grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then might I dare to breathe in song your name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, Player-king, unmoved by all renown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Acclaim and praise that wait upon your name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You pluck a laurel from the wreath of fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, careless of the guerdon, cast it down.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Love_and_Death" id="Love_and_Death"></a>Love and Death</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ever athwart Life's sunlit, upland ways<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falleth the shadow of impending Death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still Life's flowers beneath his blighting breath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ashes wither, and to dust, her bays.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What were the worth of hard-won power or praise?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awaits us all the grave-cell dark and deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The greedy grave-worm's maw, the awful sleep<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">When Death his cold hand on our pulses lays.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What then the end of action or of strife?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sphinx&egrave;d riddle of the Universe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nature's unsolved enigma, who may prove?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life's Passion Play all blindly men rehearse....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yet our recompense for birth, for life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For death itself, meseems, is deathless Love!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_Winter_Landscape" id="A_Winter_Landscape"></a>A Winter Landscape</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A mystic world mantled in white simarre<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arachne-spun with argent woof; her wede<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Starred with strange crystals wrought from frozen spar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sprent with pearl frost-flowers; girt with diamond brede,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rubied with berries red as drops of blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Befringed with gelid, many-irised gems;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Broidered with lace weft of an elfin brood&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hoar filagree to deck her garment hems.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sheer slanting down the sky an opal light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pierces the snow-blur's veil of wannish gray,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">In iridescent sheen, tingeing the dazzling white<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With amethystine, gold or beryl ray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along the West the transient sunset gleam&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An ardor brief!   Crimson on crimson grows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till all the waning sky, incarnadine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Glows like blown petals of a shattered rose.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Roses_and_Rue" id="Roses_and_Rue"></a>Roses and Rue</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">I.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A swift thought flashed to my mind that day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I first saw you, regally tall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Mid a throng of pigmies&mdash;a very Saul&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How some woman's heart must admit your sway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some woman's soul to your soul be thrall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(And though not for me were the rapture to prove you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thrilled as I thought how a woman might love you!)<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then&mdash;strange that our eyes for a moment should meet<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And hold each other a breathless space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That a light as of dawn should leap into your face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the lips that were stern should an instant grow sweet&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere you turned, at a word, with a courtier's grace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(And I knew that tho' many a woman had loved you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till that moment, the glance of no woman had moved you!)<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then you stood at my side and one murmured your name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The proud old name that you worthily wore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I drank the soul-chalice Fate's mandate upbore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my lips, as the fire of your glance leapt to flame;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What need were of words? heart speaks heart evermore&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(And I knew that were mine but the rapture to prove you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How deeply, how dearly one woman might love you!)<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">II.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Do I idly dream, as the village maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who thinks, as she spins, of a princekin gay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a prancing steed, who shall come her way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To woo her and win her and bear her away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thro' the vasty depths of the forest shade<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To a palace set in a sylvan glade,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To love her for aye and a day?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is it like that he with his princely pride&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The son of a proud old race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall stoop with Cophetua's kingly grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lift me up to the vacant place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To reign like a queen at his side?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can the world afford him no worthier bride&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No bride with a queenlier grace?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Aye, a foolish dream for a sordid day<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When men seek power&mdash;and women, gold&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gone is the chivalrous age of old<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When maids were loving and men were bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And good King Arthur held knightly sway!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, love and knighthood were laid away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the cuirass and helm of old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But a horseman rides to the wicket gate&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All my pulses proclaim it he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My knight who has parted the waves of the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who has cleft the wide world in his searching for me....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fond, foolish, dreaming!&mdash;for surely Fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Decrees him the winning a worthier mate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than a simple girl like me!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">III.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Why does he come to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With his deep, impassioned eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stealing my soul from me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Surely a high emprise<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For such an one as he<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To smile an hour on me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To win a worthless prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Would he might let me be!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Proud am I&mdash;proud as he<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For my name as his is old&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What should he say to me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I have neither lands nor gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah, a merry jest 'twill be<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To win my heart from me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(The tale will be soon told!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Would he might let me be!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">IV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Swept, swept away is my vaunted pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On a flood-tide of tenderness;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I envy the dog that bounds to his side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the chestnut mare he is wont to ride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Cross moor and mead when the day is fine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As she lays her head in a mute caress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Gainst the arm of <i>her</i> lord&mdash;and <i>mine!</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">V.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, silver and gold of the glad June morning&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gold of the sunshine and silver of dew,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Dew drop gems all the meads adorning&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are love and the rose-time a theme for scorning?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roses, roses,&mdash;dream not of rue!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Am I not loved by you?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Antiphonal to sweet sylvan singers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brook with its maddening, gladdening rune!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my lover's kiss still thrills and lingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lingers and burns on my tremulous fingers!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, birds in a very riot of tune<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pour out my joy to the heart of June!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He loves me&mdash;loves me! My heart is singing.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Heart, oh heart of my heart is it true?)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Song on my lips from my soul upringing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A passion of bliss to the breezes flinging,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roses, roses&mdash;nor dream of rue!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am beloved by you.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">VI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To be his wife! Calm all my soul is filling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A calm too deep for smiles&mdash;or even tears;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A perfect trust to slumber subtly stilling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My whilom doubts and fears.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Each little common thing to me seems rarer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My life each day becomes more dear to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love, am I fair? Ah, fain would I be fairer&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet more fair for thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like to a priestess some loved shrine adorning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I deck the charms but poorly prized, till late,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beauty once I held too slight for scorning&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To thee, now consecrate!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As if some god of old had stooped to love me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some star had pierced my darkness with its ray&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I worship thee&mdash;an idol throned above me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forgetting thou art clay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Rejoicing in the gift that God has given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I may forget the Giver. Love, I fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest I shall e'en forget to sigh for Heaven&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When heaven for me is here!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">VII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strange that a love supreme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should be swayed by a petty pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As a straw might turn aside<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The swift onflowing tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a mighty seaward stream!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know that the fault was mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I cannot, will not speak;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should I, suppliant, meek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His gracious pardon seek&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' the fault were mine&mdash;all mine?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Aye, tho' my heart should break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Something&mdash;or pride or shame&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forbids me that I should claim<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As mine the fault, the blame&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aye, tho' my heart should break!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">VIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Last night he came to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His dark eyes grave and sweet&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Eyes that I could not meet!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To crave my pardon&mdash;<i>mine!</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that kingly courtesy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which makes his least deed fine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What fiend took hold on me?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would nor speak nor heed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' he bent his pride to plead&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(He, all unused to sue!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though he sought full tenderly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a pardon not <i>his</i> due.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fool! to have played with fire&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had I not full often heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How when his wrath was stirred<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It burst all bounds and leapt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Higher and ever higher<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like flames by the storm-wind swept?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet&mdash;tho' his face was white<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a passion that shook his soul&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not once did he waive control,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho' his heart to its depths was stirred&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He leashed his wrath that night<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor uttered one bitter word.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Pride held me stubbornly dumb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stilling what words I would say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I flung my heart's treasure away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I tampered with fire&mdash;to my cost;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I knew the ultimate end had come&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had matched pride with love&mdash;and lost!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">IX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What poisoned pen has written<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The words that bar my breath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What hard, harsh hand has smitten<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My soul with death?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"<i>Love, my love</i>"&mdash;these the words I read&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"<i>The vision and dream of a life have died.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hurt to the heart by the words you said,</i><br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Angered, stung by a wounded pride,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Mad with the thought that your love was dead</i>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>I have wedded a loveless, unloved bride</i>&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Would I had died instead!</i>"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">My heart refuses to understand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The words that burn my brain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Palsied, stunned by a felling blow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Struck by a cherished hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I am all too numb for pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dead to a deathless woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Helpless to understand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Shall I ever feel again?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">X.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Awake, alive to pain! The first steel gleam of morn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stabs deep the heart I thought had shrunk to dust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The love I prayed might die to loveless scorn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awakes and cries ... Ah, God, how is it just<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fault so slight such meed of pain should pay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That one mad word in pride and anger spoken<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should leave two lives forever crushed and broken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should plait a scourge to lash my soul for aye?<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How can a just God see men suffer thus?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unheedful of the cosmic cry of pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unmoved by all the pangs that torture us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Knowing our prayers and tears alike are vain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like to a wanton boy who feels no thrill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of pity for the weak his strength holds thrall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who pins a helpless butterfly against a wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Watching the bright wings flutter and grow still.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We are the sport of some malignant Power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who nails us to our crosses, hard and fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who sees us flutter for a little hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Struggle and suffer ... and grow still at last;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who hears untouched the ceaseless, cosmic groan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrung from his creatures' tortured lips alway;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will not hear or heed! What need to pray?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is no hand to help. We stand alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Father, forgive! I know not what I say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frenzied, tortured, torn on the rack of pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Teach these pain-writhen lips once more to pray&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Help me to trust again!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">XI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">A year! How slight a space<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When winged with ecstasy!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">(An &aelig;on dark to me.)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has brought her home&mdash;God lend me grace!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-night in the throng I shall see his face&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He has long forgotten me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A year! I have learned to smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I have taught my eyes to lie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have lived and laughed and sung&mdash;the while<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I have only longed to die.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">XII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><span class="i0">I have seen him once again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There in the throng with his wife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(An eagle matched with a pitiful wren!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bitter in sooth has his portion been&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chained to a clog for life!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Strange that our eyes as of yore should meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hold each other a breathless space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the dawn-light of old should illumine his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the lips that were stern should an instant grow sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Touched with the old-time tender grace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But his eyes were haggard and old with pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Traitors to thwart his resolute will!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They told me the struggle was vain&mdash;all vain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He loves me&mdash;loves me still.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">XIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Cruel! that I should be glad<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That he loves and suffers still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet how should my soul be sad<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That his passionate, resolute will<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cannot crush the love that is stronger than he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The love that is all for me!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">The year has left its trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">(Cover it how he will!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the proud, impassive face<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I know how he suffers still&mdash;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Thrall to a love that is stronger than he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A love that is all for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Surely, ah surely, I know<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I who have known his love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I who have loved him so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What such a bond must prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Linked to a loveless, unloved wife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Chained to a clog for life!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">XIV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">She loves him not, they say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Save for his lands and gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She is narrow, selfish, cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stabbing and wounding his soul each day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Growing further and further away<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From the heart it was hers to hold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Yet not all blameless he,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A woman is quick to feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What man would fain conceal;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Surely she can but see<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That naught to his life is she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nay&mdash;nor can ever be!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I am happier&mdash;happier far&mdash;than he;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is meshed in a galling silken hold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bound with a jewelled band of gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I, at least, am free.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I know what his daily life must be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Linked with a nature paltry, slight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He with his generous, kingly soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stung and goaded past all control<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By a thousand petty barbs of venom and spite.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once, but once have we met,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we spoke of trivial things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the changes a twelvemonth brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of late Summer, lingering yet...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Ah, how should a heart that has loved forget?)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Traitors ever to thwart his will<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His eyes confirm what I half divine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bitter, bootless victory mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cannot choose but to love me still!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">XV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whose was the fault, the blame?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She has fled and left him free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Free! but a stain of shame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rests on the proud old name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At a bitter cost she has set him free&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Free! with a blemished fame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And he with the pride of his race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a resolute, calm control,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Locks in his heart the heart's disgrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shows of his shame no subtlest trace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hiding the hurt of a stricken soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Neath the calm of a passionless face.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He had deemed it a cowardly thing to fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the village prated anent his shame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And an added blot on his noble name<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By his own hand to die.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But oft in the deep of night I hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Borne on the wild night wind,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The beat of the mare's hoofs thundering past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my heart is clutched by an icy fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a direful thing that may chance at last;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ride he never so far, so fast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Black Care rides hard behind.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">XVI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Last night as I stood in the gloaming's gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere the moon came into the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He came to me for a last good-bye&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">At last he is going away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His face in the dusk showed stern and set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old and haggard and worn with pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Dear, I may never see you again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Mine but the meed regret!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How can I ask you to share my shame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How can I give you my blemished name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Yet how shall the heart forget?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Naught in my life save a dream have I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dream&mdash;a vision, too fair to be,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">A rose that blooms 'mid the rue for me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Naught but a dream ... Good-bye."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then, ere he lifted his bridle rein<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ride away down the dark'ning land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He bent and touched with his lips the hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had laid on the chestnut's mane.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">XVII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Something ... my senses will scarce recall ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The horror they came in the night to tell ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mare had galloped riderless home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blown and bleeding and flecked with foam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they found him there by the sunken wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hurt to the death by the desperate fall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How it had chanced, he could only tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere the merciful numbness stole his brain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How the chestnut rose to the leap and fell....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then his senses closed on the shocks of pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He spoke, they told me, but once again&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To whisper my name with his struggling breath&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Thank God, he suffered so brief a while)<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Then peacefully sank on the breast of Death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dead, with his lips asmile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How can I wish him alive again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lying so peacefully, placidly still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With that carven smile on his marble face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How can I pray that his heart should thrill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To waking and waking's pain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lying so peacefully, placidly still.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With the old, sweet smile on his quiet face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dead to the sting of a heart's disgrace....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should I wish him a lesser grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should I strive with a wiser Will?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet how can the heart that is reft divine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Death's mystical, measureless charity?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cry of the stricken king is mine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">"Would I had died for thee!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Severance" id="Severance"></a>Severance</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not severed by long leagues of lonely land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor sundered by wide wastes of sounding sea;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But ever side by side and hand in hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And yet&mdash;apart are we.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Spartacus" id="Spartacus"></a>Spartacus</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He stands storm-browed, imperial, chief<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of all Rome's gladiators; brave<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beyond all others; fearless in belief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A captive&mdash;but no slave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His brow is like a god's&mdash;a brow of power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lips soft with human sweetness&mdash;ere the day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He entered the arena, and the hour<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He first beheld man's life-blood mixed with clay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Felt rise within him bestial strange desires<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And savage instincts in a brutal heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That battened on men's blood; burned with unhallowed fires<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of slaughter&mdash;till&mdash;a thing apart,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">A hired butcher of his fellow men, he stands<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Daring the fasting lion in his den,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or some fierce gladiator on the blood-stained sands,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A savage chief of yet more savage men!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He stands, with massive throat and thews of steel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While loud acclaims the listening heavens fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Roman women smile. He does not know; or feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A moment's joy or one triumphant thrill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He heeds them not. He sees as in a dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His home and Cyrasella's citron groves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A youth again, beside some purling stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With gladsome heart and joyous pipe he roves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He sees anon that gentle shepherd boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who knew no harsher sound than plaining flute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the arena stand&mdash;Rome's sport and toy&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A bestial, blood-stained hireling brute....<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Then swift thro' every throbbing, pulsing vein<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The fierce unconquered spirit of old Sparta ran.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rome's fiercest gladiator is to-day again<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A Thracian&mdash;and a man!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Dead_Leader" id="The_Dead_Leader"></a>The Dead Leader</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">After the waiting and the anguished weeping<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">He lies at rest at last.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How should we mourn him tranced in peaceful sleeping,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His pain all past!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Right's Excalibur his strong arm wielded<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A little space lies low;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The victor in life's sometime strife has yielded<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To man's last Foe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Late&mdash;all too late&mdash;our loyal tribute giving<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A loyal, fearless soul!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He whom we honored late&mdash;so late&mdash;while living,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Lies dead beside the goal.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet this the solace of these long sad hours<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">While we who loved him weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We breathe an answering message in our flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To him who lies asleep.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To him whom soon the deep, cold earth must cover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To him whose dying breath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Left to our hearts a message bridging over<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The dark abyss of Death.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Hagar" id="Hagar"></a>Hagar</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To have known Heaven and then to walk in Hell!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is it not hell to know his face no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Supplanted, spurned and thrust without his door.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeing another with my loved lord dwell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sheltered within the tents of wedded love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I must roam the desert of Despair?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, God above me harken to my prayer!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Send down thy mercy on me as a dove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Folding its white wings on my tortured breast.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me not see the anguish of my child<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With hunger torn, with thirst's consuming wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strike us, oh God, into Thy deep dark Rest!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lo! I have sinned. I kneel and kiss the rod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she, the wife, who cast us forth to die ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I curse her not! Judge Thou between us, God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which in Thy sight is guiltier, she or I?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Water-Lilies" id="Water-Lilies"></a>Water-Lilies</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They float ethereal, unearthly white<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Upon the bosom of the darkling mere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Raying the dusk with slumbrous silver light&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Eidolons of lost moons erst mirrored there.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Salvias" id="Salvias"></a>Salvias</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wooing the wind's wild caresses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Courting the sun's fierce flame&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wantons in cardinal dresses<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Flaunting their scarlet shame.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Yellow_Jessamine" id="Yellow_Jessamine"></a>Yellow Jessamine</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like little yellow stars that, fallen down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hang pendulous, enmeshed among the boughs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mild golden radiances they gem the crown<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fair Summer sets upon her beauteous brows.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Sunflowers" id="Sunflowers"></a>Sunflowers</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They bloom in lowly places&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unmeet for fairer beds&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like swarthy Ethiop faces<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With yellow-turbaned heads.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Rose" id="The_Rose"></a>The Rose</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All Orient odors, spikenard, balm and myrrh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Perfumes of Araby and farthest Ind&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet incense from the chaliced heart of her<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She pours upon the feet of every wind.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Circe" id="Circe"></a>Circe</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">I.<br /></span>
+
+
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where fair &AElig;&aelig;ia smiles across the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To olive-crowned Italia, th' enchantress dwells&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A woman set about with dreams and spells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Weird incantations, charms and mystery.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most strangely pale and strangely fair is she&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet deadlier than the hemlock draught her smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Darker than Stygian glooms her subtle guile....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drawn by her deep eyes' spell, across the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Argive galleys wing, till beached they lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the fatal strand. The Greeks beguile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hasting hours with revelry and wine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within her halls.... Eftsoon strange sorcery<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Circe weaves. They who were men erewhile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now grovel at her feet, transformed to swine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">II.<br /></span>
+
+
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Neath myriad mellow tapers' golden glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A woman stands, proud, insolent and fair;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">A single gem meshed in the dusk-dyed hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burns like the evening star descending low<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adown the dark'ning sky. Upon the snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of her full-blossomed breast deep rubies lie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her fragrant presence breathes sweet sorcery;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shimmering saffron satin's flexile flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Outlines each sinuous curve; a sensuous smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A touch that fires to flame each pulsant vein&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One draught of eyes more deep than depths of wine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The senses steal, the soul and brain beguile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till all seem merged in feeling ... and again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Circe's spells transform men into swine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="To_A_M_M" id="To_A_M_M"></a>To A. M. M.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She is so shy, this little love of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So pale and pure, almost I fear to speak<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The love that thrills my every pulse like wine<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet brings no answering flush to her fair cheek.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She is so calm that Passion's stirring strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To chanson soft and low unbidden dies;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The while her longing lover sighs in vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For one soft love-glance from her down-dropped eyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A lily she that from its garden bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Into the golden sunshine glad and sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lifts to far sapphire skies its radiant head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unheedful of the base weeds at its feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet&mdash;should one loving reverently kneel<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And draw the lily's close-shut leaves apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perchance those waxen petals might reveal<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Enshrined within, a glowing golden heart.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Loveless" id="Loveless"></a>Loveless</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As some poor starveling at a palace gate<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sees curtained gleams from banquet-litten halls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hears song out-ringing from the festal walls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Scents viands that shall princely palates sate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet in the outer gloom may only wait,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Crouched in the cold, thrice-thankful for some least<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mean morsel flung him from the plenteous feast&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Poor bondman to the ball and chain of Fate!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, lonely at Love's outer gate I stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And glimpse the brightness and the bliss within,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where love-lit smiles transmute the dark to day&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I wait without&mdash;I may not enter in;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long, wistfully, I gaze&mdash;then void of hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And starved of spirit, sadly turn away.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Clytie_The_Sunflower" id="Clytie_The_Sunflower"></a>Clytie&mdash;The Sunflower</h2>
+
+<h5>(To F. H.)</h5>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In pale green twilight lands<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Under the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her rainbow palace stands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Irised and opaline;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Agate and almondine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Corals and pearly shells<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swept from deep ocean dells,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Strewing the silver strands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Starring the golden sands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the green twilight lands<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Under the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All thro' the dreamy day<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Under the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the sea-maidens play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Twining foam-garlands fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Girding their golden hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clad in her moss-robe green<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Veiled in her bright locks' sheen&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the dim seaweeds sway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Trackless her white feet stray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All thro' the dreamy day<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Under the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Or like a star she glides<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Over the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deftly her steeds she guides&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Gold-fish that glint and gleam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Jewels alive they seem&mdash;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Softly the surges swell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rocking the rosy shell<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the sea-maiden rides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wafture of wooing tides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swift as a star she glides<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Over the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One day she lifts her eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Up from the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the great sun-god flies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Over the world afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Guiding his golden car&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All his star brow aglow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All his bright hair aflow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dawn in his radiance lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dusk at his coming dies&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hapless she lifts her eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Up from the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Swiftly his steeds speed on<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Over the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon is the splendor flown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lone on the shore she stands.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Stretching imploring hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lifting impassioned eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the last sun-gleam dies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All the day's brightness gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hapless she stands alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heedless the god speeds on<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Over the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ever her wistful gaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Over the sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yearns on the sun-god's rays&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till by some subtle power<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Changed to a golden flower&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still in her robe of green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Crowned with her gold hair's sheen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Slight on her stem she sways ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet does her yearning gaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Follow the sun-god's rays<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Over the sea.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="In_Bondage" id="In_Bondage"></a>In Bondage</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What can it profit a man tho' he have the soul of a god<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sunk in the form of a beast, with a senseless simian face&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What can the world perceive of the subtler inward grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breathing upon the dust of the coarse clay clod?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What knows the world of me&mdash;the Me that is prisoned within&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeing only the self that sickens its sensitive eyes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How can it know that this hateful mask hides not the sneer of Sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That this cloak of crass, crude flesh, is a trusty soul's disguise?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What can I hope to win? Which of the gifts men prize?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What can I have or hold of the bounteous boon I crave&mdash;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">I, with the coarse stubbed hands, the dull and narrow eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The low-browed leer of the brutal, base-born slave?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What can I know of Love? I, with my ape-like face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frighting the tender trust of the timorous, shrinking maid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who, drawn by my deep soul's spell, half-yields to the soul's embrace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then looks on its hideous mask and trembles and flees dismayed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet must the soul of fire chained to this cursed clay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Galled by its fetters of flesh, seared with a thousand scars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shriek and struggle and beat its breast on its prison bars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thro' the night's long dark of despair till the dawning of ultimate day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the glow of that ultimate dawn transfigure the tortured face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the sacred fire within crumble the coarse clay clod.<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the Soul, breathed on by an unseen, unknown Grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stripped of its bonds of flesh, stand face to face with its God!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="To_a_Singer" id="To_a_Singer"></a>To a Singer</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beneath thy Midas touch life's sullen grays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are thrilled to sudden gold; as some far gleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From wings of Helios athwart thy dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Irradiates for thee earth's darksome ways.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wild woodland voices ripple thro' thy lays;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet silvern murmurs from some deep-delled spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brook, tree and flower and each insensate thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The throstle's call, the calm of sun-steeped days,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A glint of sunshine on the swallow's wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fern-filagrees, the drowsy drone of bee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made drunk with draughts of purple wild-grape wine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All these Orph&egrave;an music holds for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all thy days and dreams companioning<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Walks Nature with her hand close-clasped in thine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Blossom_of_Brine" id="Blossom_of_Brine"></a>Blossom of Brine</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Morn! and a white sail winging<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over the sunlit waves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A song on the breezes ringing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up from the coral caves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where sea-nymphs, white arms lifting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wreaths for the sea-god twine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the frail foam-flowers drifting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the wave-crests&mdash;blossom of brine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Night! and a dark rack flying<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over the sullen waves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dirge on the night winds sighing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up from the cold sea caves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where sea-nymphs white arms lifting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wreaths for a pall entwine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a still white face is drifting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the wave-crest&mdash;blossom of brine.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_Memory" id="A_Memory"></a>A Memory</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strange that across the vast of varied years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fraught with life's wonted alloy&mdash;mingled joy and pain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sun-kissed with smiles or gloomed with mists of tears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Old memories should wake to life again.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old thoughts and dreams, words breathed by lips long dumb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Songs sung by voices silent now for aye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like hosts of speechless spectres thronging come<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dim formless wraiths of each dear vanished day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Strange that a fragment of a life replete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A few brief hours as men measure time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A chapter in life's book, closed now&mdash;yet vaguely sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As odor-laden zephyrs from some far-off clime&mdash;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Should drift across my heart while joysome memories rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of golden moments snatched from Arcady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of silver sails and opal-tinted skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of viridescent earth and sapphire sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Of Lotus-land where pleasure dreamful lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of kindred souls responsive each to each,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of thoughts half hidden by deep-tinted eyes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Sweet traitors telling that denied to speech!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The merest fragment of a life replete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A sun-gleam 'mid existence's sombre grays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eyes, hands and hearts that for one moment meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In strange, sweet yearning ... then&mdash;divided ways.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="To_Margaret" id="To_Margaret"></a>To Margaret</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Maiden of varying mood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thalia thou hast wooed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thespis thereafter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till 'neath thy lyric sway<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Each heart must tribute pay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Tears blent with laughter.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So in the days to be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This do we crave for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Through life's hereafter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throughout the changing years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May all thy griefs and tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Be blent with laughter.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Regret" id="Regret"></a>Regret</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Shimmer of rose and pearl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sheen on an opal sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Day's crimson banners unfurl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Purple-pleached shadow-gleams die;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dawn flowers bourgeoning fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meads with the dawn-dews wet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rare is the morn&mdash;ah, rare!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in the heart, regret&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A vague regret.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Clouds like the scattered snow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stippling a sapphire sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fervor and heat and glow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Zephyrs that swoon and die.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Drowseth the nooning air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On meads with red poppies set;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fair is the day&mdash;ah, fair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in the heart, regret&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And still ... regret.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Flashes of burning gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flushes of crimson light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Faint on a waning wold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stealeth the silent night.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">One from a casement bar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leaneth with lashes wet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Watching the last wan star<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fade like a heart's regret&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A vain regret.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="God_Bless_You_Dear" id="God_Bless_You_Dear"></a>"God Bless You, Dear"</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear patient face and placid brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dear lips that smiled despite of pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave toil-worn hands, so helpful now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sweet spirit free from earthly stain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within the doorway Mother stands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The while a merry barefoot lad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the springtime meadow-lands<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Goes whistling schoolward, blithe and glad;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where the pathway breasts the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I stay my steps and turn to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her loving voice, as lingering still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She calls, "Good-bye! God bless you, dear."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear patient face and furrowed brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dear lips that smile thro' all life's pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave toil-worn hands, so weary now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sweet soul unmarred by earthly stain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within the doorway Mother stands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The while a man oppressed with care,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the waning Autumn lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Goes toil-ward, fain to strive and bear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where the pathway breasts the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I stay my steps and turn to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her trembling voice, as ling'ring still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She calls, "Good-bye! God bless you, dear."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear peaceful face and placid brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dear lips that smile secure from pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brave toil-worn hands, soft-folded now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sweet spirit freed from earthly stain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within God's portal Mother stands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The while a man forspent with care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeketh the far-off meadow-lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By faith made strong to strive and bear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as I breast life's weary hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I ofttimes pause&mdash;meseems I hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The well-loved accents breathing still<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The old fond prayer, "God bless you, dear."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Roses" id="Roses"></a>Roses</h2>
+
+
+<h5>"Where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?"&mdash;Rub&agrave;iyat.</h5>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A red rose burns upon his breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where erst a white rose lay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above his fervent heart-throb pressed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The red rose of To-day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What recks he of the flower that dies&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(For roses bloom alway!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Low in the dust, forgotten, lies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The rose of Yesterday.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But yet, To-day's red rose must die,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(For roses fade alway!)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-morrow crushed, forgot, 'twill lie&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A rose of Yesterday.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Poet" id="The_Poet"></a>The Poet</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One fluting on sad wolds Pan's flight left drear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">One crying down the wayward wind of Chance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One piping unto feet that will not dance<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mourning unto ears that will not hear.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Shylock" id="Shylock"></a>Shylock</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Cold craft and avarice look from out his eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His face with evil passion marred and seamed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looks frowningly upon a Christian world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind that hateful mask a demon lurks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To urge the narrow soul to darksome deeds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of violence and greed, of hate and ruth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His God, a God of wrath, a tyrant force<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To mete to helpless souls eternal doom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Juggernaut, a hard unsentient power,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yet less potent than the yellow gold<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Those crooked talons clutch, and for the which<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The miser Shylock fain would sell his soul.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Sonnet" id="Sonnet"></a>Sonnet</h2>
+
+<h5>(To Charles J. O'Malley.)</h5>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As when above orchestral undertone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The plaining wail of muted violin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The hushed ob&ouml;e and the distant din,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of muffled drum or viol's raucous groan&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sudden arises one pure voice-like tone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A silver trumpet's tongue that stirs the soul<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To feel the theme, and the harmonious whole<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sonant setting seems for that alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, high above earth's murmurous stir and strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Riseth thy voice in clear enringing song&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No minor plaint of dull despairing pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But one true note of hope that bids us long<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For higher things; and all the din of life<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Seems to subserve the sweetness of thy strain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Antithesis" id="Antithesis"></a>Antithesis</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The poet wrought a song of sadness, fraught<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With all the pain the world's sad heart hath proved;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sang of doubt, and dreams that end in naught ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then, smiling, turned and kissed the lips he loved.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The poet wrought a song of joyance, thrilled<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With all the peace the world's glad heart hath kept;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sang of hope and happy dreams fulfilled ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then bent his face upon his hands and wept.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="In_Fortunes_Twilight" id="In_Fortunes_Twilight"></a>In Fortune's Twilight</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The old house totters 'neath its weight of years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bowed, like the form of him who shelters there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old, friendless, lone&mdash;save for the wanton, Care,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Who flouts him, mocks his grief with gibes and jeers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laughs to see his piteous hopes grow fears.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not his the joy of placid, sun-crowned age&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His dim eyes falter as he scans the page<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Life's worn album, blotted with his tears.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sees in dreams the wife he loved&mdash;long dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The son&mdash;once proud to bear his father's name&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who mixed his honest blood with dire disgrace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wayward girl who wrought her father shame ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sits alone with Care; the day has fled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And twilight falls, upon the furrowed face.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Fate" id="Fate"></a>Fate</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thro' countless &aelig;ons sunless and remote<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A Soul went searching for its spirit mate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thro' star-stained space, o'er wind-swept deep, afloat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forever desolate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Anon, another spirit, lone of heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Goes forth thro' voiceless void to seek its mate;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Eftsoon they meet, these twain, strike hands ... and part!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And this is Fate.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Path_of_Dreams" id="The_Path_of_Dreams"></a>The Path of Dreams</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beside the stream that silverly steals on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To swell the song of that far-sounding sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which breaks upon the utmost shore of Thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They who have drunk at Song's immortal spring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Walk with glad feet the upland path of dreams<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That whitely winds thro' long low-lying lands&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By one, yclept the Way of Fools&mdash;a plain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of dust and ashes and of Dead Sea fruit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But by another called the Path of Hope<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That leads far up the slope of heart's desire;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And haply both speak truth&mdash;for oft the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is set with stones that tear the climbing feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oft for roses there is bitter rue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oft for singing there is idle scorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sneers full oft for smiles. Yet well we know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The upland Path of Dreams that whitely winds<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">(Yclept or Way of Fools or Path of Hope)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leads upward ever to the Hills of Song!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beside the silent stream whose soundless tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sets ever to the unknown tideless sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They who have drunk of Slumber's poppied draught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Walk with unsandalled feet the path of dreams<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That winds thro' gray, low-lying fields of sleep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To dim dream shores girt with dim spectre-trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swayed ever by the sweep of unseen wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slow-stirring palms and arabesques of ferns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fields of sombre bloom and scentless flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not of their wonted hue, but dimly gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where songless birds like shades of shadows flit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And silent winds from poppied meadows blow&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here dear presences to us denied<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By sterner Day, approach to cry us hail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here a little do we taste the joy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of kisses dreamed on lips forever mute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little know the bliss of Hope fulfilled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dreams that seem as true as very Truth ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet well we know that with the stir of dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Waking, we must return from Sleep's far fields!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Beside the Lethean stream whose soundless tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sets ever to the unknown tideless Sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That breaks upon the farthest unknown shore&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They who have quaffed dark Asrael's mystic draught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Walk with still feet the viewless Path of Dreams<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That winds thro' long, low-lying fields of Sleep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fields Elysian or Tartarian glooms;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And haply, longed-for presences denied<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By sterner Life shall come to cry us hail,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright radiances from realms of light eterne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or shadows from the shades of awful Dis&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But whether here we taste of Hope fulfilled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or find our dreams are but as drifted dust&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From dark of Dis or realms of Light eterne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full well we know we shall return no more!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="An_Autumn_Song" id="An_Autumn_Song"></a>An Autumn Song</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The dim sun slips adown the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That dies from gold to gray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The homing birds that Southward fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my heart's hailing make reply,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>
+<span class="i2">Piping "Good-bye, good-bye!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Southward I turn my wistful eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Southward, where all my treasure lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whither the homing sparrow flies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Piping, "Good-bye, good-bye!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The chill blast sweeps the steely sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That glooms a sullen gray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft summer winds that Southward fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To my soul's sighing make reply<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Breathing "Good-bye, good-bye!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Southward I turn my longing eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Southward my yearning spirit hies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whither or bird or zephyr flies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sighing "Good-bye, good-bye!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Vain" id="Vain"></a>Vain</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wreath of laurel and crown of bay<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the noisy trump of Fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Praise for the singer's deathless lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And a listening world's acclaim.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the singer sits with his grief alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where love lies cold and dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The plaudits fall on a heart of stone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Soul of the song has fled.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Sartor_Resartus" id="Sartor_Resartus"></a>Sartor Resartus</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, God be merciful to him who sees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thro' ermined pomp and pageantry of kings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thro' regal mien and beauty's witcheries<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poor, weak, shrivelled soul that crouches hid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within the body's hold! Thrice-cursed is he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose soul sees souls of others face to face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who strips the outer man like vestments off<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And views the naked heart in all its shame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And poverty; who still must rend the veil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of motive, purpose, false humanity<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And futile pretense! God! to walk this world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doomed still to see what others fain would hide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reading men's thoughts as scholars read the page<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of some old language dead to all save them;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Seeing beneath the tender woman flesh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The woman-grace, the pleading woman-eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The grisly skeleton, the hollow ribs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eyeless sockets and the grinning jaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reading for aye the sneer beneath the smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lie that lurks behind the seeming truth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To know that such, or haply worse, am I,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A living lie, false prophet to myself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Clothed on with shimmering robes of fallacy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vain deceit! Ah God, where is the truth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are all men false or lies the fault in me<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who, vulture-like, seize only on the taint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leave the pure? If haply thus it be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In pity take away the subtle sight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That pierces thought. Give back the old fond faith,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The young belief in all humanity;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hide from my view the canker in the rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The taint in truth, the blight upon the bloom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Far better 'twere to drink the hemlock draught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, happy, deem it nectar than to find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The drop of gall within the nectared cup.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far better trust repaid with treachery<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Than doubt confirmed! Ah, Thou all-seeing God<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who art the Truth, make me to see the truth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lift from my soul the shadow; in the room<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of doubt, send trust. Let me believe again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Help me to see the highest in mankind!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Illumed" id="Illumed"></a>Illumed</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like to a little child, whose straying feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tracking the fox-fire's guiling glint and gleam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have wandered far afield by marsh and stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While just before the wavering glimmers fleet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On and still on where sky and meadow meet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till, spent and fearful in the gathering gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At last he sees the guiding light of home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where love awaits and mother-kisses sweet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So was it mine through fens of doubt to stray<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pursuing still some fair ephemeron,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or fleeting gleam, or shimmering fallacy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till through the deepening dusk a beacon shone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Set by the hand of Love to light the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O Father, to implicit trust in Thee!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="In_the_Play" id="In_the_Play"></a>In the Play</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In a painted "Forest of Arden," in the glare of the garish light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In doublet and hose, be-powdered and rouged, you sigh to me night by night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Attuned to the sway of your cadenced voice, as a harp to the wooing wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thrill at the touch of your painted lips&mdash;for&mdash;"<i>I am your Rosalind!</i>"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Could you know that my art in seeming was a dearer thing than art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the love-words spoken nightly spring straight from a loving heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could you know that my soul speaks to you&mdash;aye soul and spirit and mind!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I gaze deep into your eyes and breathe&mdash;"<i>And I am your Rosalind!</i>"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To you 'tis a vain dissembling&mdash;a part of the work of the day,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And the words that your voice makes music, but the dull, dead lines of the play.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Little you care for the woman you woo, save as a foil designed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To prove your skill as a lover&mdash;yet&mdash;"<i>I am your Rosalind!</i>"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I merge in the player, the woman! The actress good at her art<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must needs look well to each glance and tone, must needs play still her part&mdash;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tho' the woman's soul that must else be mute; aye soul and spirit and mind!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cry to your soul in another's words&mdash;"<i>And I am your Rosalind!</i>"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="To_E_P_B" id="To_E_P_B"></a>To E. P. B.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Imperial as that famed Elizabeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before whose feet a knight his cloak cast down&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sovereign&mdash;altho' thine only crown<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Love's roses 'twine for thee, Elizabeth.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, maiden sweeter than morn's nectared breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across thy path no regal robe I fling&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Only a living, loving heart I bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To lay at thy dear feet, Elizabeth.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Through_the_Dark" id="Through_the_Dark"></a>Through the Dark</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Last night they laid me in my winding sheet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Set burning tapers at my feet and head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Decked me with wan white blossoms faint and sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And told each other softly, "She is dead."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ay, dumb and dead! Enshrouded, cold and stark<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I lay where waned the tawny tapers dim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pulseless and pale; yet thro' the dreadful dark<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I lived in thoughts of <i>him</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The morning came. One who had loved me bent<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Above my face with tears and bated breath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Laid on my heart the roses <i>he</i> had sent&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I&mdash;was glad of death!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Preluding" id="Preluding"></a>Preluding</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Frail fronds of ferns uncurling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blue iris flags unfurling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pale showers of blossoms swirling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like clouds of wind-blown snow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With fragile wildings playing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like two blithe children maying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the glad meads straying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Together, dear, we go.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The silver clouds far-drifting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vague lights and shadows shifting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sungleams gold-dust sifting<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down thro' the latticed leaves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gray brooks the meadows lacing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Young flow'rs the uplands gracing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her faery 'broidery tracing<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The skillful spider weaves.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From long, long day-dreams shaken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vivid violets waken;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His Southern haunts forsaken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bluebird flecks the sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, breath of bloom-bright heather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, golden Maytime weather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We drift in dreams together&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Together, you and I.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="The_Heights_of_Silence" id="The_Heights_of_Silence"></a>The Heights of Silence</h2>
+
+<h5>(Transcribed from "The Choir Invisible.")</h5>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Above the valleys, peopled, fair and warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rise the bleak, silent uplands where abide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wraiths of lost loves, love's recompense denied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unspoken, unconfessed, unsatisfied....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cold, silent heights, engirt with zones of storm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where Love for aye unmated must abide.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The broad, sweet downward vistas of the flesh<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stretch fair and far; the calm white spirit-height<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is lone and chill; there dimly shines the light<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of sun and star that burns and beacons bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Sin spreads still her guiling, glitt'ring mesh.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ah, warm the valley! Lone and chill the height!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet he who wins the height's sublimity&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The silent height where loves unlived abide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loves stainless, sublimated, purified&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall glimpse that land, to grosser view denied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where love and longing infinite shall be<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or ever stilled&mdash;or ever satisfied.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Andromeda" id="Andromeda"></a>Andromeda</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bound ever to a great grey rock of Doom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Striving with futile hands to rive the chain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of woven fear, distrust and subtle pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While gaunt wolf-waves that leap from out the gloom<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Of doubt's cold sea are snarling at my feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As nearer writhes the dragon of Despair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Foul with dank horrors of his caverned lair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And like a clock of doom the dark tides beat....<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I lift my eyes; Lo! sudden sweeps along<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thought's empyrean and the vast of dreams<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One star-browed, Jove-like, human-orbed; meseems<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His feet are winged with music, shod with song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah, Perseus, should'st thou, pitying, leave the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To loose my bonds&mdash;then all the fear were gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soul touching soul, trust from distrust were won,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like god and goddess 'fronted, thou and I;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Despair were slain, closed the unequal strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy great soul's strength should make weak purpose strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy hand should lead me up the slopes of Song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy winged feet guide me to the peaks of Life!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Requital" id="Requital"></a>Requital</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What tho' you loved me once? Man's love at best<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is but a mood&mdash;the fancy of an hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You held all faith and truth a theme for jest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Love's recompense, a smile. You knew your power.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What tho' you loved me then? You went away<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And left my life an arid waste of pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now&mdash;your best years spent, your idols clay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">You stretch imploring arms to me again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What tho' you love me still? What tho' you say<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The current of your life toward mine is set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As vagrant stars obey the planets' sway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or perfume clingeth to the violet?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What tho' I once loved you? See in yon West<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Day's fires have burned to ashes cold and gray;<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">So in my quiet heart love's wild unrest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By its own flame consumed, is dead for aye.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="When_Fades_the_Light" id="When_Fades_the_Light"></a>When Fades the Light</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When fades the light along the western sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When dies the last dim rose to subtlest gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When darkling mere and mead enshadowed lie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Night's wide arms enfold the wearied Day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When tired lilies ring their vesper bells<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And dusking leaves speak whispered orison,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When cassocked Twilight breathing benison<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His rosary of flashing fireflies tells&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then ends the day-long struggle. Strong no more<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I drift far out on Fancy's phantom sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Setting full sail for that forbidden shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where waiteth Love for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When fades the light from out my dying eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And soul and sense seem slipping soft away,<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">When Death's swift shallop launched on Lethe lies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Waiting to wing me to the unknown Gray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When things of time and thought grow strangely dim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the pent spirit strains to loose its bands<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till from the fettered feet and helpless hands<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall fall life's shackles pitiless and grim&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then shall the conflict cease. Enchained no more<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My soul shall sail the silent unknown sea<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until it touch the unforbidden shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where Love awaiteth me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Butterflies" id="Butterflies"></a>Butterflies</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As if a bed of bloom had taken wing&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bright marigolds, nasturtiums, zinnias gay&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They breast the breeze or, lightly poising, cling<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To other flowers not animate as they.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="In_the_Dark_Forest" id="In_the_Dark_Forest"></a>In the Dark Forest</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The long gray twilight falls and deeper glooms<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Close round the graying wood that dimmer grows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As dies the Day's last yearning tint of rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And Dusk spins shadows on her eldritch looms.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The black bat flits, the eerie white moth flies&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wan ghost of yesterday's bright butterfly&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dusking forest pools uplooking lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like graveless dead men's staring, sightless eyes.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, eerie, eerie is the lonely wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But lo! the faeries light their firefly lamps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Elusive foxfire flames from marish damps;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hastes to the morris-dance an elfin brood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A far bell chimes, the cricket cheerly shrills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The droning beetle sounds his hoarse bassoon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hylas trill; eftsoon the rising moon<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The ambient air to molten silver thrills.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then all the lyric night is set to song!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The cuckoo calls, the plaining whippoorwill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cries faint and far away; more distant still<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The hoopoe, hid his marshy haunts among,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wails with the cry of some lost soul in pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The nightingale engilds the pulsant dark<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With golden-throated melody&mdash;but hark!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The night-jar's discord mars the perfect strain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The night wears on, black shadows throng apace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wood is still, the moon grows wan and old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">White marsh-mists wreathe like clammy arms, death-cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And moth-wings like dead fingers sweep my face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bittern wailing leaves the sombre pool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Voicing the world-old pain that never dies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The owl with ghoulish laughter outward flies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Like some weird Vivien shrieking, "Fool!" and "Fool!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="Insatiate" id="Insatiate"></a>Insatiate</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What though she lieth mute on yonder hill?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Though ivy green and shadowy eglatere<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have held in tender fold through many a year<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her quiet grave, I fear her&mdash;fear her still.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He loved her once. Ay, though he hold me fast<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sear my lips with kisses burning-sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No touch of mine can make his life replete<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For man's first love is oftentimes his last.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A still face glimmers through my dreams for aye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">E'en when I strain him close with feverish grasp<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wan grave-cold fingers loose the clinging clasp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grave-cold lips my fervid kisses stay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She lives incarnate in each flower fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her eyes illume the violets in my hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The golden-rod that lights the Autumn land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seems but the scattered star-dust of her hair.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love's perfect flower may never bloom for me&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For me his wife. For ah! I fear her still<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who lies forever mute on yonder hill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He loved her once. Would God that I were she!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="Transcribers_Notes" id="Transcribers_Notes"></a>Transcriber's Notes</h3>
+
+
+<p>Table of Contents: Slight listing changes were made to match poem titles.</p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_29">29</a>: Added opening parenthesis:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(And I knew that tho' many a woman had loved you,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Till that moment, the glance of no woman had moved you!)</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_46">46</a>: Added closing parenthesis:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">(Thank God, he suffered so brief a while)</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_70">70</a>: Corrected wathway to pathway:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And where the pathway breasts the hill,</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>Page <a href="#Page_79">79</a>: Added a blank line after first stanza:<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Piping "Good-bye, good-bye!"</span><br /></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Path of Dreams, by Leigh Gordon Giltner
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@@ -0,0 +1,2684 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Path of Dreams, by Leigh Gordon Giltner
+
+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: The Path of Dreams
+       Poems
+
+Author: Leigh Gordon Giltner
+
+Release Date: October 25, 2008 [EBook #27024]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PATH OF DREAMS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Diane Monico, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Leigh Gordon Giltner]
+
+
+
+
+The Path of Dreams
+
+_POEMS_
+
+_BY LEIGH GORDON GILTNER_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Fleming H. Revell Company
+Chicago : New York : Toronto
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT 1900
+
+BY LEIGH GORDON GILTNER
+
+
+
+
+_TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER_
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+In Woodland Ways                9
+
+Ashes of Roses                 11
+
+A Challenge                    13
+
+And Yet ...                    15
+
+The Master-Player              16
+
+Afterbloom                     17
+
+To Bliss Carman                18
+
+When Love Passed By            19
+
+Hedonism ... Euthumism      21-22
+
+Under the Leaves               23
+
+Carmen                         23
+
+To R. D. MacLean               26
+
+Love and Death                 26
+
+A Winter Landscape             27
+
+Roses and Rue                  28
+
+Severance                      47
+
+Spartacus                      48
+
+The Dead Leader                50
+
+Hagar                          51
+
+Flower-Fancies              52-53
+
+Circe                          54
+
+To A. M. M.                    55
+
+Loveless                       56
+
+Clytie--The Sunflower          57
+
+In Bondage                     61
+
+To a Singer                    63
+
+Blossom of Brine               64
+
+A Memory                       65
+
+To Margaret                    66
+
+Regret                         67
+
+"God Bless You, Dear"          69
+
+Roses                          71
+
+The Poet                       72
+
+Shylock                        72
+
+To Charles J. O'Malley         73
+
+Antithesis                     74
+
+In Fortune's Twilight          74
+
+Fate                           75
+
+The Path of Dreams             76
+
+An Autumn Song                 78
+
+Vain                           79
+
+Sartor Resartus                80
+
+Illumed                        82
+
+In The Play                    83
+
+To E. P. B.                    84
+
+Through The Dark               85
+
+Preluding                      86
+
+The Heights of Silence         87
+
+Andromeda                      88
+
+Requital                       90
+
+When Fades the Light           91
+
+Butterflies                    92
+
+In the Dark Forest             93
+
+Insatiate                      95
+
+
+
+
+To One Who Sleeps
+
+(Obiit, June 8th, 1894.)
+
+
+_Tho' storm and summer shine for long have shed
+Or blight or bloom above thy quiet bed,
+Tho' loneliness and longing cry thee dead--
+Thou art not dead, beloved. Still with me
+Are whilom hopings that encompass thee
+And dreams of dear delights that may not be.
+Asleep--adream perchance, dost thou forget
+The sometime sorrow and the fevered fret,
+Sting of salt tears and long unbreathed regret?
+Liest thou here thro' long sunshiny hours,
+Holding sweet converse with the springing flowers,
+Harking the singing of the warm sweet showers
+That fall like happy tears ... dost hear
+The birds that unafraid assail thine ear--
+And yet art silent when I whisper? Dear,
+      Dost thou not hear?_
+
+_Lying so low beneath the bending grass
+In long, still smiling tranced for aye--alas!
+Thou dost not harken when my footsteps pass.
+If haply I some tender thing should tell
+Thee of the springtime flowers thou once loved well--
+Anemone and shining asphodel;
+Should steal from Nature some enchanted lay,
+Some bird-song lilted where green branches sway--
+Heart-music that could stir thy heart alway;
+Should call thee by the old fond name again,
+Should tell thee all a heart's enduring pain
+And long rememb'ring, would'st thou mute remain?
+Alas! nor sigh nor song can thrill the ear
+Tuned to Israfel's music in the sphere
+Where things to thee erst dear no more are dear.
+      Thou dost not hear!_
+
+
+
+
+THE PATH OF DREAMS
+
+
+
+
+In Woodland Ways
+
+
+Out of the poignant glare, the shadeless heat
+Of summer noon, beseech thee follow me
+Into the dim, dream-haunted secrecy
+The cool, green glooms, the grottoed deep retreat,
+Of yon old wood; down aisles of lichened trees--
+Grey Merlins clasped by lissom Viviens
+Of clinging vine--to cloistered sylvan glens,
+Where Nature weaves her fairest mysteries.
+
+Here let us rest a little--find surcease
+For feet grown weary of the thridded street
+That echoes ever to the ceaseless beat
+Of human tread;--a brief while know the ease
+Of dreamful rest, to slumb'rous languors stilled
+On Orient rugs of dappled mosses spread
+In nooks where blossom, purple, white and red,
+The flowers Summer's lavish hands have spilled.
+
+Wild woodland creatures near us unafraid,
+Some strange enchantment doth the forest hold--
+Was that a sungleam, or a wand of gold
+By tricksy Puck or wanton Ariel swayed?
+Old oaks and beeches open wide their doors
+And hamadryads veiled in golden sheen
+Floating diaphanous o'er robes of green
+Walk with still feet the forest's russet floors.
+
+Lo, here are fairies hid in flower-bells,
+There wood-nymphs fleeing from pursuing fauns,
+And naiads fleshed with hues of rosy dawns
+Lie dreaming by white streams in dusky dells;
+We tread dim paths untrod by foot of man
+And hark the horn of Dian ringing clear;
+While faint, elusive, thin--now far, now near,
+Meseems I hear the oaten pipe of Pan.
+
+And while o'erhead the plaining wood-dove grieves,
+The cardinal--a winged, scarlet flower--
+Sprays all the air with song, a golden shower
+Of flutes-notes sifting downward thro' the leaves.
+Ah, sweet enchantment doth the forest hold,
+For Nature's self doth haunt these woodland ways,
+My fevered brow on her cool breast she lays
+And care slips from me as a garment old.
+
+
+
+
+Ashes of Roses
+
+
+Skies glooming overhead,
+  Autumn winds sighing;
+Bare yonder garden bed,
+  Flowers low lying.
+All their rich radiance fled,
+All their pale petals shed,
+Wan wraiths of Summer sped,
+  In Autumn's closes;
+Crimson and cream and gold
+Strewn on earth's bosom cold,
+Mingling with umber mold--
+      Ashes of roses.
+
+See, in yon waning West
+  Rich roses blowing
+On Heaven's palimpsest
+  God's message glowing;
+Rose hues and amethyst
+Drenched in purpureate mist,
+Darkness with Day keeps tryst,
+  Night's curtain closes;
+Quenched is the burning gold,
+Shadowed the upland wold,
+Day's fires grow dull and cold
+      Ashes of roses.
+
+So on this heart of mine
+  Shadows are lying;
+Lotus and rue entwine,
+  Dim dreams are dying;
+Stilled is the thrill divine,
+Spilled is the amber wine,
+Dimly the cold stars shine;
+  Wan age discloses
+All youth's bright blossoms dead,
+All love's rare radiance sped,
+All hope's pure petals shed--
+      Ashes of roses.
+
+
+
+
+A Challenge
+
+
+To have lived, to have loved, to have triumphed!--what more can the
+  world bestow?
+I stand at the close of the conflict, my foot on the neck of my foe.
+Prone in the dust lies the demon Despair, still shouting his shibboleth
+To the treacherous Amazon dark-browed Fate, and her grisly comrade, Death.
+To have lived! To have felt in my veins the surge of the rich, red tide of
+  life,
+The quickening stir of the strong man's heart that thrills to the sound
+  of strife;
+To have wrested success from defeat, to have striven, and struggled,
+  and won--
+Shall this seem a small thing, think you, when the Battle of Ages is done?
+To have loved! To have known of all raptures, the rapture supernal, divine,
+To have felt the throb of your heart on my heart and the bloom of your
+  lips pressed to mine;
+To have ranked with the gods on Olympus--myths tell us immortal Jove
+Cleft with his swan-wings the blue of the sky for boon of a mortal's
+  love....
+I have lived, I have loved, I have triumphed! Let Death come, or early
+  or late!
+I hurl my challenging gauntlet full in the face of Fate!
+Fate may make wreck of a future--how can she alter the past?
+I have tasted the sweets of life's chalice--why shrink from the lees
+  at the last?
+How should I cavil at aught that shall come--I stand with your head on
+  my breast--
+I have fought as I might--I have gained _you_, beloved ... to God's
+  mercy the rest!
+Tho' the heavens darken above me and the sky be shrunk as a scroll,
+In the wreck and ruin of riven worlds, should I falter, O Soul of my soul?
+Tho' the demon Despair, where he vanquished lies, still utter his
+  shibboleth--
+I fling my glove in the face of Fate and smile in the eyes of Death!
+
+
+
+
+And Yet ...
+
+
+Upon the meads where we were wont to stray,
+'Guiling with springtime hopes the winter hours,
+The Spring has smiled; yon slope that late gloomed gray
+And sternly sad, 'neath April's tender showers
+Grows green and glad again. The rippled grass,
+A soundless sea o'er which white cloud-sails pass,
+Breaks at my feet in billows foamed with flowers;
+And blue-eyed myrtle blooms with lashes wet
+Smile to me thro' their tears. The skies are blue,
+And life is sweet to-day and hope seems true;
+My heart is barren of its long regret--
+      And yet...
+
+The willow wears a wistful green. A dream
+Of Summer warmth the wine-sweet breezes hold,
+Fair wildings blow--bright buttercups agleam
+Like shining sequins scattered on the wold,
+And daffodills--a wealth of faery gold.
+The building birds their coming bliss presage
+With lilt and lyric brimming o'er the page
+Of Nature's volume bound in green and gold.
+Here 'mid the birds and blossoms 'neath the blue--
+My heart unburthened of the old regret--
+Let me forget long striving to forget;
+For life is sweet to-day and hope seems true--
+And yet...
+
+
+
+
+The Master-Player
+
+
+Mute was the mighty organ. None might break
+The silence that had thralled it since was stilled
+The master-hand beneath whose touch it thrilled
+To music such as choiring seraphs make--
+Until a mightier Master came to wake
+Th' elusive chords and subtle harmonies
+That lay imprisoned in the cold white keys
+And once again the soul of Music spake.
+Methought my soul's most perfect melodies
+No hand again to sonance could evoke--
+A silent harp whose potence none might prove--
+But, lo! one came who swept its chords and woke
+Celestial strains, divinest harmonies,
+Responsive to the master-touch of Love.
+
+
+
+
+Afterbloom
+
+
+Gay was her garden as some gorgeous fabric
+    Weft on an Orient loom,
+Star-set upon the sward quaint, old-time blossoms
+    Wrought broidery of bloom.
+
+Verbenas, dahlias, asters, scarlet cannas
+    Like torches flaming tall;
+(Methought the fair, old face, enframed in silver,
+    The sweetest flower of all!)
+
+And one rare rose she watched each year with hoping
+    Till the dear eyes grew dim--
+But ere a single blossom burst in beauty
+    God took her home to Him.
+Yet when the Spring next woke the earth to laughter
+    And boon of blossom gave,
+Starred was the rose with white, unearthly flowers--
+   We laid them on her grave.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And so, meseems, the buds we woo most fondly
+    Nor light nor perfume shed;
+And Love's gold-hearted rose and Hope's star-flower
+    Oft bloom when we are dead.
+
+
+
+
+To Bliss Carman
+
+
+Great hearted brother to the wilderness,
+  Comrade of Wind and Sea! Interpreter
+Of nomad Nature! Ere the quick'ning stir
+  Of Spring-sap thrills the wood from sullen stress
+Of Winter's spell--away from thronged press
+  Of urban ways thy wild feet wander far
+Tracking the steps of some white Northern star
+  Whose rays are beacon to thy restlessness.
+Weird mystic of the Northland's mystery,
+  Thou 'front'st the Unseen Shadow, nor dost fear
+To meet the Scarlet Hunter on the trail;
+  Pagan as Pan; to all things sylvan dear,
+Nature's own vagrant, buoyant, driftless, free--
+  All winds and woods and waters cry thee hail!
+
+
+
+
+When Love Passed By
+
+
+I dreamt of love in the golden glory
+Of youth unshadowed by cloud or care;
+Steeped in the love-lore of song and story,
+I said, "My Love shall be wondrous fair."
+
+I said, "Her hands shall be filled with flowers,
+(My heart shall tell me when Love draws nigh!)
+She shall steal sweet boon from the graceless hours,
+Her eyes shall be blue as the cerule sky.
+
+"Her hair shall be bright as the stars' gold gleaming,
+Her lips shall be red with her heart's rich wine,
+Her face shall be fair as my fondest dreaming,
+Each pulse of my being shall call her mine!"
+
+Then long for the voice of my heart I harkened,
+Tranced in love's hoping--all hope else forgot--
+I waited lonely; the daylight darkened,
+The twilight deepened--but love came not.
+
+Then One passed by in the dusking shadows,
+The night's dusk shadows slept on her hair--
+She passed like a gleam o'er the dew-drenched meadows,
+And my heart throbbed fast--but she was not fair.
+
+Her face was pale and her dark eyes pleading,
+Her smile was wistful and gravely sweet;
+She passed me by where I stood unheeding,
+And dropped a violet at my feet.
+
+She went her way o'er the silent meadows,
+(Ah, traitorous heart that you tricked me so!)
+I sat alone in the deepening shadows--
+Love had passed by--and I did not know.
+
+
+
+
+Hedonism
+
+
+Since we must sleep the endless Sleep at last,
+Since Life's grim juggernaut 'neath ruthless wheels
+Crushes the heart; since Age like Winter steals
+On Youth's fair-flowered fields with blighting blast--
+Then to the gods our doubts and fears be cast!
+Enough of Sorrow! Joyance is our due.
+Gather the roses! Spurn th' envenomed rue.
+Fling to the waiting winds the pallid past.
+Steep thee in mellow moods and dear desires;
+Pluck Love's flame-hearted flower ere it dies;
+Cull nectared kisses sweet as morning's breath,
+Warm Chastity at Passion's purple fires;
+Nepenthe quaff--till drained the chalice lies.
+After ... the shrouded sleep, the dreamless dark of Death.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Euthumism
+
+
+If in the spirit glows no spark divine;
+If soulless dust return to dust again;
+If, after life, but death and dark remain--
+Then it were well to make the moment thine,
+Bacchante-steeping soul and sense in wine,
+In lotus-lulling languors, fond desires
+That heat the heart with fierce, unhallowed fires--
+Till Pleasure, Circe-like, transform us into swine.
+But if some subtler spirit thrill our clay,
+Some God-like flame illume this fleeting dust--
+Promethean fire snatched from the Olympian height--
+Then must we choose the nobler, higher Way,
+Seeking the Beautiful, the Pure, the Just--
+The ultimate crowned triumph of the Right!
+
+
+
+
+Under the Leaves
+
+
+The phalanxes of corn stand grim and serried,
+    Dull gold the sodden sheaves,
+The violets that smiled with Spring are buried
+        Under the leaves.
+
+Along the land the Winter's doom is creeping
+    All vainly Autumn grieves;
+And she who made my heart's sweet Spring is sleeping
+        Under the leaves.
+
+
+
+
+Carmen
+
+
+Night in Seville, and the twinkle
+  Of stars in the far azure set,
+The mandolin's torturing tinkle,
+  The click of the castanet!
+Music and wine and low laughter,
+  Love and a torment of tune--
+Hate and a poignard thereafter,
+  Under the yellow moon.
+
+Here in the night I await her,
+  Under the slumberous moon;
+Yearns my fierce spirit to mate her--
+  All my sick senses aswoon
+Beneath the wild sway of her dancing
+  Passion and pride are at war;--
+Thrall to her amorous glancing,
+  Grandee and toreador.
+
+Carmen Gitana, behold her!
+  Bright passion-flower of the South;
+Soft Southern languors enfold her,
+  Scarlet the bloom of her mouth;
+Passionate, sensuous, cruel,
+  Raying warm laughter and light,
+A ruby--a scintillant jewel--
+  Set on the brow of the Night!
+
+Ah, the wild rhythm of her dancing!
+  Lithe with the jaguar's grace,
+Ah, the sweet fire of her glancing,
+  The love-litten lure of her face!
+And ah, in my fierce arms to hold her
+  This strange scarlet flower of the South.
+Close to my heart-beat to fold her
+  Drinking the wine of her mouth!
+
+Sweet, thou art weary with dancing,
+  Sick of the music and light
+Praises and overbold glancing--
+  Steal with me into the night;
+Out of the riot of laughter,
+  Out of the torment of tune--
+Love and close kisses thereafter
+  Under the sensuous moon!
+
+Carmen, my fierce arms enfold thee,
+  Bright passion-flower of the South,
+Close to my hot heart I hold thee,
+  Crushing the flower of thy mouth.
+Love--for the loving that swayed me,
+  Passion--for passion long past--
+Hate--for the hate that betrayed me ...
+  My dirk in your side at the last!
+
+
+
+
+To R. D. MacLean
+
+
+If words were winged arrows tipped with flame,
+Far-flying thro' the vast of time and space,
+If Erato should lend me some rare grace,
+Then might I dare to breathe in song your name.
+Ah, Player-king, unmoved by all renown,
+Acclaim and praise that wait upon your name,
+You pluck a laurel from the wreath of fame,
+Then, careless of the guerdon, cast it down.
+
+
+
+
+Love and Death
+
+
+Ever athwart Life's sunlit, upland ways
+Falleth the shadow of impending Death,
+And still Life's flowers beneath his blighting breath
+To ashes wither, and to dust, her bays.
+What were the worth of hard-won power or praise?
+Awaits us all the grave-cell dark and deep,
+The greedy grave-worm's maw, the awful sleep
+When Death his cold hand on our pulses lays.
+What then the end of action or of strife?
+The sphinxed riddle of the Universe,
+Nature's unsolved enigma, who may prove?
+Life's Passion Play all blindly men rehearse....
+But yet our recompense for birth, for life,
+For death itself, meseems, is deathless Love!
+
+
+
+
+A Winter Landscape
+
+
+A mystic world mantled in white simarre
+Arachne-spun with argent woof; her wede
+Starred with strange crystals wrought from frozen spar,
+Sprent with pearl frost-flowers; girt with diamond brede,
+Rubied with berries red as drops of blood,
+Befringed with gelid, many-irised gems;
+Broidered with lace weft of an elfin brood--
+    Hoar filagree to deck her garment hems.
+
+Sheer slanting down the sky an opal light
+Pierces the snow-blur's veil of wannish gray,
+In iridescent sheen, tingeing the dazzling white
+With amethystine, gold or beryl ray.
+Along the West the transient sunset gleam--
+An ardor brief!   Crimson on crimson grows
+Till all the waning sky, incarnadine,
+      Glows like blown petals of a shattered rose.
+
+
+
+
+Roses and Rue
+
+
+I.
+
+A swift thought flashed to my mind that day
+When I first saw you, regally tall
+'Mid a throng of pigmies--a very Saul--
+How some woman's heart must admit your sway,
+Some woman's soul to your soul be thrall;
+(And though not for me were the rapture to prove you,
+I thrilled as I thought how a woman might love you!)
+
+Then--strange that our eyes for a moment should meet
+And hold each other a breathless space,
+That a light as of dawn should leap into your face,
+That the lips that were stern should an instant grow sweet--
+Ere you turned, at a word, with a courtier's grace.
+(And I knew that tho' many a woman had loved you,
+Till that moment, the glance of no woman had moved you!)
+
+Then you stood at my side and one murmured your name,
+The proud old name that you worthily wore,
+And I drank the soul-chalice Fate's mandate upbore
+To my lips, as the fire of your glance leapt to flame;
+What need were of words? heart speaks heart evermore--
+(And I knew that were mine but the rapture to prove you,
+How deeply, how dearly one woman might love you!)
+
+
+II.
+
+Do I idly dream, as the village maid,
+Who thinks, as she spins, of a princekin gay
+On a prancing steed, who shall come her way
+To woo her and win her and bear her away
+Thro' the vasty depths of the forest shade
+To a palace set in a sylvan glade,--
+To love her for aye and a day?
+
+Is it like that he with his princely pride--
+The son of a proud old race,
+Shall stoop with Cophetua's kingly grace
+To lift me up to the vacant place,
+To reign like a queen at his side?
+Can the world afford him no worthier bride--
+No bride with a queenlier grace?
+
+Aye, a foolish dream for a sordid day
+When men seek power--and women, gold--
+Gone is the chivalrous age of old
+When maids were loving and men were bold,
+And good King Arthur held knightly sway!
+Ah, love and knighthood were laid away
+With the cuirass and helm of old.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But a horseman rides to the wicket gate--
+All my pulses proclaim it he,
+My knight who has parted the waves of the sea,
+Who has cleft the wide world in his searching for me....
+Fond, foolish, dreaming!--for surely Fate
+Decrees him the winning a worthier mate
+Than a simple girl like me!
+
+
+III.
+
+Why does he come to me,
+With his deep, impassioned eyes,
+Stealing my soul from me?
+Surely a high emprise
+For such an one as he
+To smile an hour on me--
+To win a worthless prize,
+Would he might let me be!
+Proud am I--proud as he
+For my name as his is old--
+What should he say to me?
+I have neither lands nor gold.
+Ah, a merry jest 'twill be
+To win my heart from me--
+(The tale will be soon told!)
+Would he might let me be!
+
+
+IV.
+
+Swept, swept away is my vaunted pride
+On a flood-tide of tenderness;
+I envy the dog that bounds to his side,
+And the chestnut mare he is wont to ride
+'Cross moor and mead when the day is fine,
+As she lays her head in a mute caress
+'Gainst the arm of _her_ lord--and _mine!_
+
+
+V.
+
+Ah, silver and gold of the glad June morning--
+Gold of the sunshine and silver of dew,
+Dew drop gems all the meads adorning--
+Are love and the rose-time a theme for scorning?
+Roses, roses,--dream not of rue!
+    Am I not loved by you?
+
+Antiphonal to sweet sylvan singers,
+The brook with its maddening, gladdening rune!
+And my lover's kiss still thrills and lingers,
+Lingers and burns on my tremulous fingers!
+Ah, birds in a very riot of tune
+Pour out my joy to the heart of June!
+
+He loves me--loves me! My heart is singing.--
+(Heart, oh heart of my heart is it true?)
+Song on my lips from my soul upringing,
+A passion of bliss to the breezes flinging,
+Roses, roses--nor dream of rue!
+    I am beloved by you.
+
+
+VI.
+
+To be his wife! Calm all my soul is filling,
+A calm too deep for smiles--or even tears;
+A perfect trust to slumber subtly stilling
+    My whilom doubts and fears.
+
+Each little common thing to me seems rarer,
+My life each day becomes more dear to me;
+Love, am I fair? Ah, fain would I be fairer--
+    And yet more fair for thee.
+
+Like to a priestess some loved shrine adorning,
+I deck the charms but poorly prized, till late,
+The beauty once I held too slight for scorning--
+    To thee, now consecrate!
+
+As if some god of old had stooped to love me--
+Some star had pierced my darkness with its ray--
+I worship thee--an idol throned above me--
+    Forgetting thou art clay.
+
+Rejoicing in the gift that God has given,
+I may forget the Giver. Love, I fear
+Lest I shall e'en forget to sigh for Heaven--
+    When heaven for me is here!
+
+
+VII.
+
+Strange that a love supreme
+Should be swayed by a petty pride,
+As a straw might turn aside
+The swift onflowing tide
+Of a mighty seaward stream!
+
+I know that the fault was mine,
+But I cannot, will not speak;
+How should I, suppliant, meek,
+His gracious pardon seek--
+Tho' the fault were mine--all mine?
+
+Aye, tho' my heart should break,
+Something--or pride or shame--
+Forbids me that I should claim
+As mine the fault, the blame--
+Aye, tho' my heart should break!
+
+
+VIII.
+
+Last night he came to me,
+His dark eyes grave and sweet--
+(Eyes that I could not meet!)
+To crave my pardon--_mine!_
+With that kingly courtesy
+Which makes his least deed fine.
+
+What fiend took hold on me?
+I would nor speak nor heed,
+Tho' he bent his pride to plead--
+(He, all unused to sue!)
+Though he sought full tenderly
+For a pardon not _his_ due.
+
+Fool! to have played with fire--
+Had I not full often heard
+How when his wrath was stirred
+It burst all bounds and leapt
+Higher and ever higher
+Like flames by the storm-wind swept?
+
+Yet--tho' his face was white
+With a passion that shook his soul--
+Not once did he waive control,
+Tho' his heart to its depths was stirred--
+He leashed his wrath that night
+Nor uttered one bitter word.
+
+Pride held me stubbornly dumb,
+Stilling what words I would say,
+While I flung my heart's treasure away,
+While I tampered with fire--to my cost;
+Till I knew the ultimate end had come--
+I had matched pride with love--and lost!
+
+
+IX.
+
+  What poisoned pen has written
+    The words that bar my breath;
+  What hard, harsh hand has smitten
+    My soul with death?
+
+"_Love, my love_"--these the words I read--
+"_The vision and dream of a life have died.
+Hurt to the heart by the words you said,_
+Angered, stung by a wounded pride,
+Mad with the thought that your love was dead--
+I have wedded a loveless, unloved bride--
+    Would I had died instead!_"
+
+    My heart refuses to understand
+    The words that burn my brain;
+    Palsied, stunned by a felling blow
+    Struck by a cherished hand,
+    I am all too numb for pain;
+    Dead to a deathless woe,
+    Helpless to understand,
+        Shall I ever feel again?
+
+
+X.
+
+Awake, alive to pain! The first steel gleam of morn
+Stabs deep the heart I thought had shrunk to dust,
+The love I prayed might die to loveless scorn
+Awakes and cries ... Ah, God, how is it just
+A fault so slight such meed of pain should pay,
+That one mad word in pride and anger spoken
+Should leave two lives forever crushed and broken,
+Should plait a scourge to lash my soul for aye?
+
+How can a just God see men suffer thus?--
+Unheedful of the cosmic cry of pain,
+Unmoved by all the pangs that torture us,
+Knowing our prayers and tears alike are vain--
+Like to a wanton boy who feels no thrill
+Of pity for the weak his strength holds thrall,
+Who pins a helpless butterfly against a wall,
+Watching the bright wings flutter and grow still.
+
+We are the sport of some malignant Power
+Who nails us to our crosses, hard and fast,
+Who sees us flutter for a little hour,
+Struggle and suffer ... and grow still at last;
+Who hears untouched the ceaseless, cosmic groan
+Wrung from his creatures' tortured lips alway;
+He will not hear or heed! What need to pray?
+There is no hand to help. We stand alone.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Father, forgive! I know not what I say,
+Frenzied, tortured, torn on the rack of pain;
+Teach these pain-writhen lips once more to pray--
+    Help me to trust again!
+
+
+XI.
+
+    A year! How slight a space
+    When winged with ecstasy!
+    (An aeon dark to me.)
+He has brought her home--God lend me grace!
+To-night in the throng I shall see his face--
+    He has long forgotten me.
+    A year! I have learned to smile,
+    I have taught my eyes to lie,
+I have lived and laughed and sung--the while
+    I have only longed to die.
+
+
+XII.
+
+I have seen him once again,
+There in the throng with his wife
+(An eagle matched with a pitiful wren!)
+Bitter in sooth has his portion been--
+Chained to a clog for life!
+Strange that our eyes as of yore should meet
+And hold each other a breathless space,
+That the dawn-light of old should illumine his face,
+That the lips that were stern should an instant grow sweet,
+Touched with the old-time tender grace.
+But his eyes were haggard and old with pain
+(Traitors to thwart his resolute will!)
+They told me the struggle was vain--all vain!
+    He loves me--loves me still.
+
+
+XIII.
+
+Cruel! that I should be glad
+  That he loves and suffers still,
+Yet how should my soul be sad
+That his passionate, resolute will
+Cannot crush the love that is stronger than he,
+  The love that is all for me!
+
+The year has left its trace
+  (Cover it how he will!)
+On the proud, impassive face
+And I know how he suffers still--
+Thrall to a love that is stronger than he,
+  A love that is all for me.
+
+Surely, ah surely, I know
+  I who have known his love,
+I who have loved him so,
+What such a bond must prove,
+Linked to a loveless, unloved wife,
+  Chained to a clog for life!
+
+
+XIV.
+
+    She loves him not, they say,
+    Save for his lands and gold;
+    She is narrow, selfish, cold,
+    Stabbing and wounding his soul each day,
+    Growing further and further away
+    From the heart it was hers to hold.
+
+    Yet not all blameless he,
+    A woman is quick to feel
+    What man would fain conceal;
+    Surely she can but see
+    That naught to his life is she,
+    Nay--nor can ever be!
+
+I am happier--happier far--than he;
+He is meshed in a galling silken hold,
+Bound with a jewelled band of gold;
+While I, at least, am free.
+And I know what his daily life must be.
+Linked with a nature paltry, slight,
+He with his generous, kingly soul,
+Stung and goaded past all control
+By a thousand petty barbs of venom and spite.
+
+Once, but once have we met,
+And we spoke of trivial things,
+Of the changes a twelvemonth brings,
+Of late Summer, lingering yet...
+(Ah, how should a heart that has loved forget?)
+Traitors ever to thwart his will
+His eyes confirm what I half divine.
+A bitter, bootless victory mine,
+He cannot choose but to love me still!
+
+
+XV.
+
+Whose was the fault, the blame?
+She has fled and left him free,
+Free! but a stain of shame
+Rests on the proud old name.
+At a bitter cost she has set him free--
+Free! with a blemished fame.
+
+And he with the pride of his race,
+With a resolute, calm control,
+Locks in his heart the heart's disgrace,
+Shows of his shame no subtlest trace,
+Hiding the hurt of a stricken soul
+'Neath the calm of a passionless face.
+
+He had deemed it a cowardly thing to fly
+While the village prated anent his shame,
+And an added blot on his noble name
+    By his own hand to die.
+
+But oft in the deep of night I hear
+Borne on the wild night wind,
+The beat of the mare's hoofs thundering past,
+And my heart is clutched by an icy fear
+Of a direful thing that may chance at last;
+For ride he never so far, so fast--
+Black Care rides hard behind.
+
+
+XVI.
+
+Last night as I stood in the gloaming's gray,
+Ere the moon came into the sky,
+He came to me for a last good-bye--
+    At last he is going away.
+
+His face in the dusk showed stern and set,
+Old and haggard and worn with pain;
+"Dear, I may never see you again--
+    Mine but the meed regret!
+How can I ask you to share my shame,
+How can I give you my blemished name,
+    Yet how shall the heart forget?
+
+Naught in my life save a dream have I,
+A dream--a vision, too fair to be,
+A rose that blooms 'mid the rue for me--
+    Naught but a dream ... Good-bye."
+
+And then, ere he lifted his bridle rein
+To ride away down the dark'ning land,
+He bent and touched with his lips the hand
+I had laid on the chestnut's mane.
+
+
+XVII.
+
+Something ... my senses will scarce recall ...
+The horror they came in the night to tell ...
+The mare had galloped riderless home,
+Blown and bleeding and flecked with foam,
+And they found him there by the sunken wall,
+Hurt to the death by the desperate fall.
+How it had chanced, he could only tell,
+Ere the merciful numbness stole his brain;
+How the chestnut rose to the leap and fell....
+Then his senses closed on the shocks of pain.
+He spoke, they told me, but once again--
+To whisper my name with his struggling breath--
+(Thank God, he suffered so brief a while)
+Then peacefully sank on the breast of Death,
+    Dead, with his lips asmile.
+
+How can I wish him alive again,
+Lying so peacefully, placidly still,
+With that carven smile on his marble face.
+How can I pray that his heart should thrill
+To waking and waking's pain?
+Lying so peacefully, placidly still.
+With the old, sweet smile on his quiet face,
+Dead to the sting of a heart's disgrace....
+How should I wish him a lesser grace,
+How should I strive with a wiser Will?
+Yet how can the heart that is reft divine
+Death's mystical, measureless charity?
+The cry of the stricken king is mine:
+    "Would I had died for thee!"
+
+
+
+
+Severance
+
+
+Not severed by long leagues of lonely land,
+  Nor sundered by wide wastes of sounding sea;
+But ever side by side and hand in hand,
+  And yet--apart are we.
+
+
+
+
+Spartacus
+
+
+He stands storm-browed, imperial, chief
+  Of all Rome's gladiators; brave
+  Beyond all others; fearless in belief,
+    A captive--but no slave.
+His brow is like a god's--a brow of power,
+  Lips soft with human sweetness--ere the day
+  He entered the arena, and the hour
+    He first beheld man's life-blood mixed with clay.
+
+Felt rise within him bestial strange desires
+  And savage instincts in a brutal heart
+  That battened on men's blood; burned with unhallowed fires
+    Of slaughter--till--a thing apart,
+A hired butcher of his fellow men, he stands
+  Daring the fasting lion in his den,
+  Or some fierce gladiator on the blood-stained sands,--
+    A savage chief of yet more savage men!
+
+He stands, with massive throat and thews of steel,
+  While loud acclaims the listening heavens fill,
+  And Roman women smile. He does not know; or feel
+    A moment's joy or one triumphant thrill.
+He heeds them not. He sees as in a dream
+  His home and Cyrasella's citron groves;
+  A youth again, beside some purling stream,
+    With gladsome heart and joyous pipe he roves.
+
+He sees anon that gentle shepherd boy,
+  Who knew no harsher sound than plaining flute,
+  In the arena stand--Rome's sport and toy--
+    A bestial, blood-stained hireling brute....
+Then swift thro' every throbbing, pulsing vein
+  The fierce unconquered spirit of old Sparta ran.
+  Rome's fiercest gladiator is to-day again
+    A Thracian--and a man!
+
+
+
+
+The Dead Leader
+
+
+After the waiting and the anguished weeping
+    He lies at rest at last.
+How should we mourn him tranced in peaceful sleeping,
+    His pain all past!
+
+The Right's Excalibur his strong arm wielded
+    A little space lies low;
+The victor in life's sometime strife has yielded
+    To man's last Foe.
+
+Late--all too late--our loyal tribute giving
+    A loyal, fearless soul!
+He whom we honored late--so late--while living,
+    Lies dead beside the goal.
+
+Yet this the solace of these long sad hours
+    While we who loved him weep,
+We breathe an answering message in our flowers
+    To him who lies asleep.
+
+To him whom soon the deep, cold earth must cover,
+    To him whose dying breath
+Left to our hearts a message bridging over
+    The dark abyss of Death.
+
+
+
+
+Hagar
+
+
+To have known Heaven and then to walk in Hell!
+Is it not hell to know his face no more,
+Supplanted, spurned and thrust without his door.
+Seeing another with my loved lord dwell
+Sheltered within the tents of wedded love
+While I must roam the desert of Despair?
+Ah, God above me harken to my prayer!
+Send down thy mercy on me as a dove
+Folding its white wings on my tortured breast.
+Let me not see the anguish of my child
+With hunger torn, with thirst's consuming wild,
+Strike us, oh God, into Thy deep dark Rest!
+Lo! I have sinned. I kneel and kiss the rod,
+But she, the wife, who cast us forth to die ...
+I curse her not! Judge Thou between us, God,
+Which in Thy sight is guiltier, she or I?
+
+
+
+
+Water-Lilies
+
+
+They float ethereal, unearthly white
+  Upon the bosom of the darkling mere,
+Raying the dusk with slumbrous silver light--
+  Eidolons of lost moons erst mirrored there.
+
+
+
+
+Salvias
+
+
+Wooing the wind's wild caresses,
+  Courting the sun's fierce flame--
+Wantons in cardinal dresses
+  Flaunting their scarlet shame.
+
+
+
+
+Yellow Jessamine
+
+
+Like little yellow stars that, fallen down,
+  Hang pendulous, enmeshed among the boughs,
+Mild golden radiances they gem the crown
+  Fair Summer sets upon her beauteous brows.
+
+
+
+
+Sunflowers
+
+
+They bloom in lowly places--
+  Unmeet for fairer beds--
+Like swarthy Ethiop faces
+  With yellow-turbaned heads.
+
+
+
+
+The Rose
+
+
+All Orient odors, spikenard, balm and myrrh,
+  Perfumes of Araby and farthest Ind--
+Sweet incense from the chaliced heart of her
+  She pours upon the feet of every wind.
+
+
+
+
+Circe
+
+I.
+
+
+Where fair AEaeia smiles across the sea
+To olive-crowned Italia, th' enchantress dwells--
+A woman set about with dreams and spells,
+Weird incantations, charms and mystery.
+Most strangely pale and strangely fair is she--
+Yet deadlier than the hemlock draught her smile,
+Darker than Stygian glooms her subtle guile....
+Drawn by her deep eyes' spell, across the sea
+The Argive galleys wing, till beached they lie
+Upon the fatal strand. The Greeks beguile
+The hasting hours with revelry and wine
+Within her halls.... Eftsoon strange sorcery
+The Circe weaves. They who were men erewhile
+Now grovel at her feet, transformed to swine.
+
+
+II.
+
+'Neath myriad mellow tapers' golden glow
+A woman stands, proud, insolent and fair;
+A single gem meshed in the dusk-dyed hair
+Burns like the evening star descending low
+Adown the dark'ning sky. Upon the snow
+Of her full-blossomed breast deep rubies lie.
+Her fragrant presence breathes sweet sorcery;
+The shimmering saffron satin's flexile flow
+Outlines each sinuous curve; a sensuous smile,
+A touch that fires to flame each pulsant vein--
+One draught of eyes more deep than depths of wine
+The senses steal, the soul and brain beguile
+Till all seem merged in feeling ... and again
+A Circe's spells transform men into swine.
+
+
+
+
+To A. M. M.
+
+
+She is so shy, this little love of mine,
+  So pale and pure, almost I fear to speak
+The love that thrills my every pulse like wine
+  Yet brings no answering flush to her fair cheek.
+
+She is so calm that Passion's stirring strain
+  To chanson soft and low unbidden dies;
+The while her longing lover sighs in vain
+  For one soft love-glance from her down-dropped eyes.
+
+A lily she that from its garden bed,
+  Into the golden sunshine glad and sweet
+Lifts to far sapphire skies its radiant head,
+  Unheedful of the base weeds at its feet.
+
+Yet--should one loving reverently kneel
+  And draw the lily's close-shut leaves apart,
+Perchance those waxen petals might reveal
+  Enshrined within, a glowing golden heart.
+
+
+
+
+Loveless
+
+
+As some poor starveling at a palace gate
+  Sees curtained gleams from banquet-litten halls,
+Hears song out-ringing from the festal walls,
+  Scents viands that shall princely palates sate,
+Yet in the outer gloom may only wait,
+  Crouched in the cold, thrice-thankful for some least
+Mean morsel flung him from the plenteous feast--
+  Poor bondman to the ball and chain of Fate!
+So, lonely at Love's outer gate I stand
+  And glimpse the brightness and the bliss within,
+Where love-lit smiles transmute the dark to day--
+  I wait without--I may not enter in;
+Long, wistfully, I gaze--then void of hand
+  And starved of spirit, sadly turn away.
+
+
+
+
+Clytie--The Sunflower
+
+(To F. H.)
+
+
+In pale green twilight lands
+    Under the sea
+Her rainbow palace stands,
+  Irised and opaline;
+  Agate and almondine,
+Corals and pearly shells
+Swept from deep ocean dells,
+  Strewing the silver strands,
+  Starring the golden sands
+In the green twilight lands
+    Under the sea.
+
+All thro' the dreamy day
+    Under the sea
+Where the sea-maidens play,
+  Twining foam-garlands fair,
+  Girding their golden hair,
+Clad in her moss-robe green
+Veiled in her bright locks' sheen--
+  Where the dim seaweeds sway,
+  Trackless her white feet stray
+All thro' the dreamy day
+    Under the sea.
+
+Or like a star she glides
+    Over the sea,
+Deftly her steeds she guides--
+  Gold-fish that glint and gleam,
+  Jewels alive they seem--
+Softly the surges swell,
+Rocking the rosy shell
+  Where the sea-maiden rides,
+  Wafture of wooing tides,
+Swift as a star she glides
+    Over the sea.
+
+One day she lifts her eyes
+    Up from the sea
+Where the great sun-god flies
+  Over the world afar,
+  Guiding his golden car--
+All his star brow aglow,
+All his bright hair aflow;
+  Dawn in his radiance lies,
+  Dusk at his coming dies--
+Hapless she lifts her eyes
+    Up from the sea.
+
+Swiftly his steeds speed on
+    Over the sea,
+Soon is the splendor flown,
+  Lone on the shore she stands.
+  Stretching imploring hands,
+Lifting impassioned eyes
+Where the last sun-gleam dies;
+  All the day's brightness gone,
+  Hapless she stands alone,
+Heedless the god speeds on
+    Over the sea.
+
+Ever her wistful gaze
+    Over the sea
+Yearns on the sun-god's rays--
+  Till by some subtle power
+  Changed to a golden flower--
+Still in her robe of green,
+Crowned with her gold hair's sheen
+  Slight on her stem she sways ...
+  Yet does her yearning gaze
+Follow the sun-god's rays
+    Over the sea.
+
+
+
+
+In Bondage
+
+
+What can it profit a man tho' he have the soul of a god
+Sunk in the form of a beast, with a senseless simian face--
+What can the world perceive of the subtler inward grace
+Breathing upon the dust of the coarse clay clod?
+What knows the world of me--the Me that is prisoned within--
+Seeing only the self that sickens its sensitive eyes--
+How can it know that this hateful mask hides not the sneer of Sin,
+That this cloak of crass, crude flesh, is a trusty soul's disguise?
+
+What can I hope to win? Which of the gifts men prize?
+What can I have or hold of the bounteous boon I crave--
+I, with the coarse stubbed hands, the dull and narrow eyes,
+The low-browed leer of the brutal, base-born slave?
+What can I know of Love? I, with my ape-like face,
+Frighting the tender trust of the timorous, shrinking maid,
+Who, drawn by my deep soul's spell, half-yields to the soul's embrace
+Then looks on its hideous mask and trembles and flees dismayed.
+
+Yet must the soul of fire chained to this cursed clay,
+Galled by its fetters of flesh, seared with a thousand scars,
+Shriek and struggle and beat its breast on its prison bars
+Thro' the night's long dark of despair till the dawning of ultimate day,
+Till the glow of that ultimate dawn transfigure the tortured face
+And the sacred fire within crumble the coarse clay clod.
+Till the Soul, breathed on by an unseen, unknown Grace,
+Stripped of its bonds of flesh, stand face to face with its God!
+
+
+
+
+To a Singer
+
+
+Beneath thy Midas touch life's sullen grays
+Are thrilled to sudden gold; as some far gleam
+From wings of Helios athwart thy dream
+Irradiates for thee earth's darksome ways.
+Wild woodland voices ripple thro' thy lays;
+Sweet silvern murmurs from some deep-delled spring,
+Brook, tree and flower and each insensate thing,
+The throstle's call, the calm of sun-steeped days,
+A glint of sunshine on the swallow's wing,
+Fern-filagrees, the drowsy drone of bee
+Made drunk with draughts of purple wild-grape wine;
+All these Orphean music holds for thee,
+And all thy days and dreams companioning
+Walks Nature with her hand close-clasped in thine.
+
+
+
+
+Blossom of Brine
+
+
+Morn! and a white sail winging
+Over the sunlit waves;
+A song on the breezes ringing
+Up from the coral caves
+Where sea-nymphs, white arms lifting
+Wreaths for the sea-god twine
+Of the frail foam-flowers drifting
+On the wave-crests--blossom of brine.
+
+Night! and a dark rack flying
+Over the sullen waves;
+A dirge on the night winds sighing
+Up from the cold sea caves
+Where sea-nymphs white arms lifting
+Wreaths for a pall entwine
+For a still white face is drifting
+On the wave-crest--blossom of brine.
+
+
+
+
+A Memory
+
+
+Strange that across the vast of varied years,
+  Fraught with life's wonted alloy--mingled joy and pain--
+Sun-kissed with smiles or gloomed with mists of tears,
+  Old memories should wake to life again.
+Old thoughts and dreams, words breathed by lips long dumb,
+  Songs sung by voices silent now for aye,
+Like hosts of speechless spectres thronging come
+  Dim formless wraiths of each dear vanished day.
+
+Strange that a fragment of a life replete,
+  A few brief hours as men measure time,
+A chapter in life's book, closed now--yet vaguely sweet
+  As odor-laden zephyrs from some far-off clime--
+Should drift across my heart while joysome memories rise
+  Of golden moments snatched from Arcady,
+Of silver sails and opal-tinted skies,
+  Of viridescent earth and sapphire sea.
+
+Of Lotus-land where pleasure dreamful lies,
+  Of kindred souls responsive each to each,
+Of thoughts half hidden by deep-tinted eyes--
+  (Sweet traitors telling that denied to speech!)
+The merest fragment of a life replete,
+  A sun-gleam 'mid existence's sombre grays,
+Eyes, hands and hearts that for one moment meet
+  In strange, sweet yearning ... then--divided ways.
+
+
+
+
+To Margaret
+
+
+Maiden of varying mood,
+Thalia thou hast wooed,
+    Thespis thereafter,
+Till 'neath thy lyric sway
+Each heart must tribute pay--
+    Tears blent with laughter.
+So in the days to be
+This do we crave for thee,
+    Through life's hereafter,
+Throughout the changing years,
+May all thy griefs and tears
+    Be blent with laughter.
+
+
+
+
+Regret
+
+
+  Shimmer of rose and pearl,
+Sheen on an opal sky;
+  Day's crimson banners unfurl,
+Purple-pleached shadow-gleams die;
+  Dawn flowers bourgeoning fair,
+Meads with the dawn-dews wet;
+  Rare is the morn--ah, rare!
+But in the heart, regret--
+    A vague regret.
+
+  Clouds like the scattered snow
+Stippling a sapphire sky;
+  Fervor and heat and glow,
+Zephyrs that swoon and die.
+  Drowseth the nooning air
+On meads with red poppies set;
+  Fair is the day--ah, fair!
+But in the heart, regret--
+    And still ... regret.
+
+  Flashes of burning gold,
+Flushes of crimson light
+  Faint on a waning wold,
+Stealeth the silent night.
+  One from a casement bar
+Leaneth with lashes wet,
+  Watching the last wan star
+Fade like a heart's regret--
+    A vain regret.
+
+
+
+
+"God Bless You, Dear"
+
+
+Dear patient face and placid brow,
+  Dear lips that smiled despite of pain,
+Brave toil-worn hands, so helpful now,
+  Sweet spirit free from earthly stain.
+Within the doorway Mother stands,
+  The while a merry barefoot lad,
+Across the springtime meadow-lands
+  Goes whistling schoolward, blithe and glad;
+And where the pathway breasts the hill,
+  I stay my steps and turn to hear
+Her loving voice, as lingering still,
+  She calls, "Good-bye! God bless you, dear."
+
+Dear patient face and furrowed brow,
+  Dear lips that smile thro' all life's pain,
+Brave toil-worn hands, so weary now,
+  Sweet soul unmarred by earthly stain.
+Within the doorway Mother stands,
+  The while a man oppressed with care,
+Across the waning Autumn lands,
+  Goes toil-ward, fain to strive and bear;
+And where the pathway breasts the hill,
+  I stay my steps and turn to hear
+Her trembling voice, as ling'ring still,
+  She calls, "Good-bye! God bless you, dear."
+
+Dear peaceful face and placid brow,
+  Dear lips that smile secure from pain,
+Brave toil-worn hands, soft-folded now,
+  Sweet spirit freed from earthly stain.
+Within God's portal Mother stands,
+  The while a man forspent with care
+Seeketh the far-off meadow-lands,
+  By faith made strong to strive and bear.
+And as I breast life's weary hill,
+  I ofttimes pause--meseems I hear
+The well-loved accents breathing still
+  The old fond prayer, "God bless you, dear."
+
+
+
+
+Roses
+
+
+"Where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?"--Rubaiyat.
+
+A red rose burns upon his breast
+  Where erst a white rose lay;
+Above his fervent heart-throb pressed--
+  The red rose of To-day.
+
+What recks he of the flower that dies--
+  (For roses bloom alway!)
+Low in the dust, forgotten, lies
+  The rose of Yesterday.
+
+But yet, To-day's red rose must die,
+  (For roses fade alway!)
+To-morrow crushed, forgot, 'twill lie--
+  A rose of Yesterday.
+
+
+
+
+The Poet
+
+
+One fluting on sad wolds Pan's flight left drear,
+  One crying down the wayward wind of Chance,
+One piping unto feet that will not dance
+  And mourning unto ears that will not hear.
+
+
+
+
+Shylock
+
+
+Cold craft and avarice look from out his eyes,
+His face with evil passion marred and seamed,
+Looks frowningly upon a Christian world.
+Behind that hateful mask a demon lurks
+To urge the narrow soul to darksome deeds
+Of violence and greed, of hate and ruth.
+His God, a God of wrath, a tyrant force
+To mete to helpless souls eternal doom;
+A Juggernaut, a hard unsentient power,--
+But yet less potent than the yellow gold
+Those crooked talons clutch, and for the which
+The miser Shylock fain would sell his soul.
+
+
+
+
+Sonnet
+
+(To Charles J. O'Malley.)
+
+
+As when above orchestral undertone,
+  The plaining wail of muted violin,
+  The hushed oboe and the distant din,
+Of muffled drum or viol's raucous groan--
+Sudden arises one pure voice-like tone,
+  A silver trumpet's tongue that stirs the soul
+  To feel the theme, and the harmonious whole
+A sonant setting seems for that alone;
+So, high above earth's murmurous stir and strife,
+  Riseth thy voice in clear enringing song--
+  No minor plaint of dull despairing pain,
+But one true note of hope that bids us long
+  For higher things; and all the din of life
+  Seems to subserve the sweetness of thy strain.
+
+
+
+
+Antithesis
+
+
+The poet wrought a song of sadness, fraught
+  With all the pain the world's sad heart hath proved;
+He sang of doubt, and dreams that end in naught ...
+  Then, smiling, turned and kissed the lips he loved.
+
+The poet wrought a song of joyance, thrilled
+  With all the peace the world's glad heart hath kept;
+He sang of hope and happy dreams fulfilled ...
+  Then bent his face upon his hands and wept.
+
+
+
+
+In Fortune's Twilight
+
+
+The old house totters 'neath its weight of years,
+Bowed, like the form of him who shelters there,
+Old, friendless, lone--save for the wanton, Care,
+Who flouts him, mocks his grief with gibes and jeers
+And laughs to see his piteous hopes grow fears.
+Not his the joy of placid, sun-crowned age--
+His dim eyes falter as he scans the page
+Of Life's worn album, blotted with his tears.
+He sees in dreams the wife he loved--long dead;
+The son--once proud to bear his father's name--
+Who mixed his honest blood with dire disgrace;
+The wayward girl who wrought her father shame ...
+He sits alone with Care; the day has fled
+And twilight falls, upon the furrowed face.
+
+
+
+
+Fate
+
+
+Thro' countless aeons sunless and remote
+  A Soul went searching for its spirit mate,
+Thro' star-stained space, o'er wind-swept deep, afloat,
+  Forever desolate.
+
+Anon, another spirit, lone of heart
+  Goes forth thro' voiceless void to seek its mate;
+Eftsoon they meet, these twain, strike hands ... and part!
+  And this is Fate.
+
+
+
+
+The Path of Dreams
+
+
+Beside the stream that silverly steals on
+To swell the song of that far-sounding sea
+Which breaks upon the utmost shore of Thought,
+They who have drunk at Song's immortal spring
+Walk with glad feet the upland path of dreams
+That whitely winds thro' long low-lying lands--
+By one, yclept the Way of Fools--a plain
+Of dust and ashes and of Dead Sea fruit;
+But by another called the Path of Hope
+That leads far up the slope of heart's desire;--
+And haply both speak truth--for oft the way
+Is set with stones that tear the climbing feet,
+And oft for roses there is bitter rue,
+And oft for singing there is idle scorn,
+And sneers full oft for smiles. Yet well we know
+The upland Path of Dreams that whitely winds
+(Yclept or Way of Fools or Path of Hope)
+Leads upward ever to the Hills of Song!
+
+Beside the silent stream whose soundless tide
+Sets ever to the unknown tideless sea
+They who have drunk of Slumber's poppied draught
+Walk with unsandalled feet the path of dreams
+That winds thro' gray, low-lying fields of sleep
+To dim dream shores girt with dim spectre-trees,
+Swayed ever by the sweep of unseen wings,
+Slow-stirring palms and arabesques of ferns
+And fields of sombre bloom and scentless flowers
+Not of their wonted hue, but dimly gray,
+Where songless birds like shades of shadows flit,
+And silent winds from poppied meadows blow--
+And here dear presences to us denied
+By sterner Day, approach to cry us hail;
+And here a little do we taste the joy
+Of kisses dreamed on lips forever mute,
+A little know the bliss of Hope fulfilled,
+And dreams that seem as true as very Truth ...
+Yet well we know that with the stir of dawn,
+Waking, we must return from Sleep's far fields!
+Beside the Lethean stream whose soundless tide
+Sets ever to the unknown tideless Sea
+That breaks upon the farthest unknown shore--
+They who have quaffed dark Asrael's mystic draught
+Walk with still feet the viewless Path of Dreams
+That winds thro' long, low-lying fields of Sleep
+To fields Elysian or Tartarian glooms;
+And haply, longed-for presences denied
+By sterner Life shall come to cry us hail,--
+Bright radiances from realms of light eterne,
+Or shadows from the shades of awful Dis--
+But whether here we taste of Hope fulfilled,
+Or find our dreams are but as drifted dust--
+From dark of Dis or realms of Light eterne,
+Full well we know we shall return no more!
+
+
+
+
+An Autumn Song
+
+
+The dim sun slips adown the sky
+That dies from gold to gray;
+The homing birds that Southward fly
+To my heart's hailing make reply,
+  Piping "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+Southward I turn my wistful eyes,
+Southward, where all my treasure lies,
+Whither the homing sparrow flies,
+  Piping, "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+The chill blast sweeps the steely sky
+That glooms a sullen gray;
+Soft summer winds that Southward fly
+To my soul's sighing make reply
+  Breathing "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+Southward I turn my longing eyes,
+Southward my yearning spirit hies,
+Whither or bird or zephyr flies
+  Sighing "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+
+
+
+Vain
+
+
+Wreath of laurel and crown of bay
+  And the noisy trump of Fame,
+Praise for the singer's deathless lay,
+  And a listening world's acclaim.
+
+But the singer sits with his grief alone
+  Where love lies cold and dead.
+The plaudits fall on a heart of stone;
+  The Soul of the song has fled.
+
+
+
+
+Sartor Resartus
+
+
+Ah, God be merciful to him who sees
+Thro' ermined pomp and pageantry of kings,
+Thro' regal mien and beauty's witcheries
+The poor, weak, shrivelled soul that crouches hid
+Within the body's hold! Thrice-cursed is he
+Whose soul sees souls of others face to face,
+Who strips the outer man like vestments off
+And views the naked heart in all its shame
+And poverty; who still must rend the veil
+Of motive, purpose, false humanity
+And futile pretense! God! to walk this world
+Doomed still to see what others fain would hide,
+Reading men's thoughts as scholars read the page
+Of some old language dead to all save them;
+Seeing beneath the tender woman flesh,
+The woman-grace, the pleading woman-eyes,
+The grisly skeleton, the hollow ribs,
+The eyeless sockets and the grinning jaw;
+Reading for aye the sneer beneath the smile,
+The lie that lurks behind the seeming truth;
+To know that such, or haply worse, am I,
+A living lie, false prophet to myself,
+Clothed on with shimmering robes of fallacy
+And vain deceit! Ah God, where is the truth?
+Are all men false or lies the fault in me
+Who, vulture-like, seize only on the taint,
+And leave the pure? If haply thus it be
+In pity take away the subtle sight
+That pierces thought. Give back the old fond faith,
+The young belief in all humanity;
+Hide from my view the canker in the rose,
+The taint in truth, the blight upon the bloom.
+
+Far better 'twere to drink the hemlock draught
+And, happy, deem it nectar than to find
+The drop of gall within the nectared cup.
+Far better trust repaid with treachery
+Than doubt confirmed! Ah, Thou all-seeing God
+Who art the Truth, make me to see the truth;
+Lift from my soul the shadow; in the room
+Of doubt, send trust. Let me believe again;
+Help me to see the highest in mankind!
+
+
+
+
+Illumed
+
+
+Like to a little child, whose straying feet,
+Tracking the fox-fire's guiling glint and gleam,
+Have wandered far afield by marsh and stream
+While just before the wavering glimmers fleet
+On and still on where sky and meadow meet,
+Till, spent and fearful in the gathering gloom,
+At last he sees the guiding light of home,
+Where love awaits and mother-kisses sweet.
+So was it mine through fens of doubt to stray
+Pursuing still some fair ephemeron,
+Or fleeting gleam, or shimmering fallacy,
+Till through the deepening dusk a beacon shone
+Set by the hand of Love to light the way
+O Father, to implicit trust in Thee!
+
+
+
+
+In the Play
+
+
+In a painted "Forest of Arden," in the glare of the garish light,
+In doublet and hose, be-powdered and rouged, you sigh to me night by night;
+Attuned to the sway of your cadenced voice, as a harp to the wooing wind,
+I thrill at the touch of your painted lips--for--"_I am your Rosalind!_"
+
+Could you know that my art in seeming was a dearer thing than art,
+That the love-words spoken nightly spring straight from a loving heart;
+Could you know that my soul speaks to you--aye soul and spirit and mind!
+When I gaze deep into your eyes and breathe--"_And I am your Rosalind!_"
+
+To you 'tis a vain dissembling--a part of the work of the day,
+And the words that your voice makes music, but the dull, dead lines of
+  the play.
+Little you care for the woman you woo, save as a foil designed.
+To prove your skill as a lover--yet--"_I am your Rosalind!_"
+
+I merge in the player, the woman! The actress good at her art
+Must needs look well to each glance and tone, must needs play still
+  her part--
+
+Tho' the woman's soul that must else be mute; aye soul and spirit and mind!
+Cry to your soul in another's words--"_And I am your Rosalind!_"
+
+
+
+
+To E. P. B.
+
+
+Imperial as that famed Elizabeth
+  Before whose feet a knight his cloak cast down--
+A sovereign--altho' thine only crown
+  Love's roses 'twine for thee, Elizabeth.
+
+Ah, maiden sweeter than morn's nectared breath,
+  Across thy path no regal robe I fling--
+Only a living, loving heart I bring
+  To lay at thy dear feet, Elizabeth.
+
+
+
+
+Through the Dark
+
+
+Last night they laid me in my winding sheet,
+  Set burning tapers at my feet and head,
+Decked me with wan white blossoms faint and sweet,
+  And told each other softly, "She is dead."
+
+Ay, dumb and dead! Enshrouded, cold and stark
+  I lay where waned the tawny tapers dim,
+Pulseless and pale; yet thro' the dreadful dark
+  I lived in thoughts of _him_.
+
+The morning came. One who had loved me bent
+  Above my face with tears and bated breath;
+Laid on my heart the roses _he_ had sent--
+  And I--was glad of death!
+
+
+
+
+Preluding
+
+
+Frail fronds of ferns uncurling,
+Blue iris flags unfurling,
+Pale showers of blossoms swirling
+Like clouds of wind-blown snow;
+With fragile wildings playing,
+Like two blithe children maying,
+Across the glad meads straying,
+    Together, dear, we go.
+
+The silver clouds far-drifting,
+Vague lights and shadows shifting,
+The sungleams gold-dust sifting
+Down thro' the latticed leaves;
+Gray brooks the meadows lacing,
+Young flow'rs the uplands gracing,
+Her faery 'broidery tracing
+    The skillful spider weaves.
+
+From long, long day-dreams shaken,
+The vivid violets waken;
+His Southern haunts forsaken,
+The bluebird flecks the sky;
+Ah, breath of bloom-bright heather,
+Ah, golden Maytime weather,
+We drift in dreams together--
+    Together, you and I.
+
+
+
+
+The Heights of Silence
+
+(Transcribed from "The Choir Invisible.")
+
+
+Above the valleys, peopled, fair and warm,
+  Rise the bleak, silent uplands where abide
+Wraiths of lost loves, love's recompense denied,
+  Unspoken, unconfessed, unsatisfied....
+Cold, silent heights, engirt with zones of storm,
+  Where Love for aye unmated must abide.
+
+The broad, sweet downward vistas of the flesh
+  Stretch fair and far; the calm white spirit-height
+Is lone and chill; there dimly shines the light
+  Of sun and star that burns and beacons bright
+Where Sin spreads still her guiling, glitt'ring mesh.
+  Ah, warm the valley! Lone and chill the height!
+
+Yet he who wins the height's sublimity--
+  The silent height where loves unlived abide,
+Loves stainless, sublimated, purified--
+  Shall glimpse that land, to grosser view denied,
+Where love and longing infinite shall be
+  Or ever stilled--or ever satisfied.
+
+
+
+
+Andromeda
+
+
+Bound ever to a great grey rock of Doom,
+  Striving with futile hands to rive the chain
+Of woven fear, distrust and subtle pain,
+  While gaunt wolf-waves that leap from out the gloom
+Of doubt's cold sea are snarling at my feet,
+  As nearer writhes the dragon of Despair
+Foul with dank horrors of his caverned lair,
+  And like a clock of doom the dark tides beat....
+I lift my eyes; Lo! sudden sweeps along
+  Thought's empyrean and the vast of dreams
+One star-browed, Jove-like, human-orbed; meseems
+  His feet are winged with music, shod with song;
+Ah, Perseus, should'st thou, pitying, leave the sky
+  To loose my bonds--then all the fear were gone,
+Soul touching soul, trust from distrust were won,
+  Like god and goddess 'fronted, thou and I;
+Despair were slain, closed the unequal strife,
+  Thy great soul's strength should make weak purpose strong,
+Thy hand should lead me up the slopes of Song,
+  Thy winged feet guide me to the peaks of Life!
+
+
+
+
+Requital
+
+
+What tho' you loved me once? Man's love at best
+  Is but a mood--the fancy of an hour,
+You held all faith and truth a theme for jest,
+  Love's recompense, a smile. You knew your power.
+
+What tho' you loved me then? You went away
+  And left my life an arid waste of pain;
+And now--your best years spent, your idols clay--
+  You stretch imploring arms to me again.
+
+What tho' you love me still? What tho' you say
+  The current of your life toward mine is set,
+As vagrant stars obey the planets' sway,
+  Or perfume clingeth to the violet?
+
+What tho' I once loved you? See in yon West
+  Day's fires have burned to ashes cold and gray;
+So in my quiet heart love's wild unrest
+  By its own flame consumed, is dead for aye.
+
+
+
+
+When Fades the Light
+
+
+When fades the light along the western sky,
+  When dies the last dim rose to subtlest gray,
+When darkling mere and mead enshadowed lie,
+  And Night's wide arms enfold the wearied Day;
+When tired lilies ring their vesper bells
+  And dusking leaves speak whispered orison,
+When cassocked Twilight breathing benison
+  His rosary of flashing fireflies tells--
+Then ends the day-long struggle. Strong no more
+  I drift far out on Fancy's phantom sea,
+Setting full sail for that forbidden shore
+  Where waiteth Love for me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When fades the light from out my dying eyes,
+  And soul and sense seem slipping soft away,
+When Death's swift shallop launched on Lethe lies
+  Waiting to wing me to the unknown Gray;
+When things of time and thought grow strangely dim,
+  And the pent spirit strains to loose its bands
+Till from the fettered feet and helpless hands
+  Shall fall life's shackles pitiless and grim--
+Then shall the conflict cease. Enchained no more
+  My soul shall sail the silent unknown sea
+Until it touch the unforbidden shore
+  Where Love awaiteth me.
+
+
+
+
+Butterflies
+
+
+As if a bed of bloom had taken wing--
+  Bright marigolds, nasturtiums, zinnias gay--
+They breast the breeze or, lightly poising, cling
+  To other flowers not animate as they.
+
+
+
+
+In the Dark Forest
+
+
+The long gray twilight falls and deeper glooms
+  Close round the graying wood that dimmer grows
+As dies the Day's last yearning tint of rose,
+  And Dusk spins shadows on her eldritch looms.
+The black bat flits, the eerie white moth flies--
+  Wan ghost of yesterday's bright butterfly--
+The dusking forest pools uplooking lie
+  Like graveless dead men's staring, sightless eyes.
+
+Ah, eerie, eerie is the lonely wood,
+  But lo! the faeries light their firefly lamps,
+Elusive foxfire flames from marish damps;
+  Hastes to the morris-dance an elfin brood;
+A far bell chimes, the cricket cheerly shrills,
+  The droning beetle sounds his hoarse bassoon
+And hylas trill; eftsoon the rising moon
+  The ambient air to molten silver thrills.
+
+Then all the lyric night is set to song!
+  The cuckoo calls, the plaining whippoorwill
+Cries faint and far away; more distant still
+  The hoopoe, hid his marshy haunts among,
+Wails with the cry of some lost soul in pain;
+  The nightingale engilds the pulsant dark
+With golden-throated melody--but hark!
+  The night-jar's discord mars the perfect strain.
+
+The night wears on, black shadows throng apace,
+  The wood is still, the moon grows wan and old,
+White marsh-mists wreathe like clammy arms, death-cold,
+  And moth-wings like dead fingers sweep my face;
+The bittern wailing leaves the sombre pool,
+  Voicing the world-old pain that never dies;
+The owl with ghoulish laughter outward flies
+  Like some weird Vivien shrieking, "Fool!" and "Fool!"
+
+
+
+
+Insatiate
+
+
+What though she lieth mute on yonder hill?
+  Though ivy green and shadowy eglatere
+  Have held in tender fold through many a year
+Her quiet grave, I fear her--fear her still.
+
+He loved her once. Ay, though he hold me fast
+  And sear my lips with kisses burning-sweet,
+  No touch of mine can make his life replete
+For man's first love is oftentimes his last.
+
+A still face glimmers through my dreams for aye.
+  E'en when I strain him close with feverish grasp
+  Wan grave-cold fingers loose the clinging clasp,
+And grave-cold lips my fervid kisses stay.
+
+She lives incarnate in each flower fair,
+  Her eyes illume the violets in my hand,
+  The golden-rod that lights the Autumn land
+Seems but the scattered star-dust of her hair.
+
+Love's perfect flower may never bloom for me--
+  For me his wife. For ah! I fear her still
+  Who lies forever mute on yonder hill.
+He loved her once. Would God that I were she!
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes
+
+Table of Contents: Slight listing changes were made to match poem titles.
+
+Page 29: Added opening parenthesis:
+  (And I knew that tho' many a woman had loved you,
+  Till that moment, the glance of no woman had moved you!)
+
+Page 47: Added closing parenthesis:
+  (Thank God, he suffered so brief a while)
+
+Page 70: Corrected wathway to pathway:
+  And where the pathway breasts the hill,
+
+Page 79: Added a blank line after first stanza:
+  Piping "Good-bye, good-bye!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Path of Dreams, by Leigh Gordon Giltner
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