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diff --git a/33417-h/33417-h.htm b/33417-h/33417-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6fb263a --- /dev/null +++ b/33417-h/33417-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9296 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Later Poems, by Bliss Carman +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +H4.h4center { margin-left: 0; + margin-right: 0 ; + margin-bottom: .5% ; + margin-top: 0; + float: none ; + clear: both ; + text-align: center } + +IMG.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-top: 1%; + margin-right: auto; } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Later Poems, by Bliss Carman + +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: Later Poems + +Author: Bliss Carman + +Release Date: August 12, 2010 [EBook #33417] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LATER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-cover"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-cover.jpg" ALT="cover art" BORDER="" WIDTH="370" HEIGHT="539"> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-fpaper"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-fpaper.jpg" ALT="front end papers" BORDER="" WIDTH="743" HEIGHT="518"> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Oh, well the world is dreaming<BR> +Under the April moon,<BR> +Her soul in love with beauty,<BR> +Her senses all a-swoon!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Pure hangs the silver crescent<BR> +Above the twilight wood,<BR> +And pure the silver music<BR> +Wakes from the marshy flood.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O Earth, with all thy transport,<BR> +How comes it life should seem<BR> +A shadow in the moonlight,<BR> +A murmur in a dream?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="Bliss Carman" BORDER="2" WIDTH="439" HEIGHT="759"> +<H4 CLASS="h4center" STYLE="width: 439px"> +Bliss Carman +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +LATER POEMS +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +BY BLISS CARMAN +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WITH AN APPRECIATION +<BR> +BY R. H. HATHAWAY +</H3> + +<BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +<I>And decorations by J. E. H. MacDonald A.R.C.A</I> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +MCCLELLAND & STEWART +<BR> +PUBLISHERS — TORONTO +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Copyright, Canada, 1921 +<BR> +By MCCLELLAND & STEWART, Limited, TORONTO +</H5> + +<BR> + +<PRE STYLE="text-align: center"> +First Printing 1921 +Second " 1922 +Third " 1922 +Fourth " 1923 +</PRE> + +<BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Printed in Canada +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Publisher's Note +</H3> + +<P STYLE="margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%"> +The present volume is made up of poems from Mr. Carman's three latest +books, <I>The Rough Rider</I>, <I>Echoes from Vagabondia</I>, and <I>April Airs</I>, +together with a number of more recent poems which have not before been +issued in book form. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="appreciation"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Bliss Carman: An Appreciation +</H3> + +<P> +How many Canadians--how many even among the few who seek to keep +themselves informed of the best in contemporary literature, who are +ever on the alert for the new voices—realise, or even suspect, that +this Northern land of theirs has produced a poet of whom it may be +affirmed with confidence and assurance that he is of the great +succession of English poets? Yet such—strange and unbelievable though +it may seem—is in very truth the case, that poet being (to give him +his full name) William Bliss Carman. Canada has full right to be proud +of her poets, a small body though they are; but not only does Mr. +Carman stand high and clear above them all—his place (and time cannot +but confirm and justify the assertion) is among those men whose poetry +is the shining glory of that great English literature which is our +common heritage. +</P> + +<P> +If any should ask why, if what has been just said is so, there has +been—as must be admitted—no general recognition of the fact in the +poet's home land, I would answer that there are various and plausible, +if not good, reasons for it. +</P> + +<P> +First of all, the poet, as thousands more of our young men of ambition +and confidence have done, went early to the United States, and until +recently, except for rare and brief visits to his old home down by the +sea, has never returned to Canada—though for all that, I am able to +state, on his own authority, he is still a Canadian citizen. Then all +his books have had their original publication in the United States, and +while a few of them have subsequently carried the imprints of Canadian +publishers, none of these can be said ever to have made any special +effort to push their sale. Another reason for the fact above mentioned +is that Mr. Carman has always scorned to advertise himself, while his +work has never been the subject of the log-rolling and booming which +the work of many another poet has had—to his ultimate loss. A further +reason is that he follows a rule of his own in preparing his books for +publication. Most poets publish a volume of their work as soon as, +through their industry and perseverance, they have material enough on +hand to make publication desirable in their eyes. Not so with Mr. +Carman, however, his rule being not to publish until he has done +sufficient work of a certain general character or key to make a volume. +As a result, you cannot fully know or estimate his work by one book, or +two books, or even half a dozen; you must possess or be familiar with +every one of the score and more volumes which contain his output of +poetry before you can realise how great and how many-sided is his +genius. +</P> + +<P> +It is a common remark on the part of those who respond readily to the +vigorous work of Kipling, or Masefield, even our own Service, that +Bliss Carman's poetry has no relation to or concern with ordinary, +everyday life. One would suppose that most persons who cared for +poetry at all turned to it as a relief from or counter to the burdens +and vexations of the daily round; but in any event, the remark referred +to seems to me to indicate either the most casual acquaintance with Mr. +Carman's work, or a complete misunderstanding and misapprehension of +the meaning of it. I grant that you will find little or nothing in it +all to remind you of the grim realities and vexing social problems of +this modern existence of ours; but to say or to suggest that these +things do not exist for Mr. Carman is to say or to suggest something +which is the reverse of true. The truth is, he is aware of them as +only one with the sensitive organism of a poet can be; but he does not +feel that he has a call or mission to remedy them, and still less to +sing of them. He therefore leaves the immediate problems of the day to +those who choose, or are led, to occupy themselves therewith, and turns +resolutely away to dwell upon those things which for him possess +infinitely greater importance. +</P> + +<P> +"What are they?" one who knows Mr. Carman only as, say, a lyrist of +spring or as a singer of the delights of vagabondia probably will ask +in some wonder. Well, the things which concern him above all, I would +answer, are first, and naturally, the beauty and wonder of this world +of ours, and next the mystery of the earthly pilgrimage of the human +soul out of eternity and back into it again. +</P> + +<P> +The poems in the present volume—which, by the way, can boast the high +honor of being the very first regular Canadian edition of his +work—will be evidence ample and conclusive to every reader, I am sure, +of the place which +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The perennial enchanted<BR> +Lovely world and all its lore<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +occupy in the heart and soul of Bliss Carman, as well as of the magical +power with which he is able to convey the deep and unfailing +satisfaction and delight which they possess for him. They, however, +represent his latest period (he has had three well-defined periods), +comprising selections from three of his last published volumes: <I>The +Rough Rider</I>, <I>Echoes from Vagabondia</I>, and <I>April Airs</I>, together with +a number of new poems, and do not show, except here and there and by +hints and flashes, how great is his preoccupation with the problem of +man's existence— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">the hidden import</SPAN><BR> +Of man's eternal plight.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +This is manifest most in certain of his earlier books, for in these he +turns and returns to the greatest of all the problems of man almost +constantly, probing, with consummate and almost unrivalled use of the +art of expression, for the secret which surely, he clearly feels, lies +hidden somewhere, to be discovered if one could but pierce deeply +enough. Pick up <I>Behind the Arras</I>, and as you turn over page after +page you cannot but observe how incessantly the poet's mind—like the +minds of his two great masters, Browning and Whitman—works at this +problem. In "Behind the Arras," the title poem; "In the Wings," "The +Crimson House," "The Lodger," "Beyond the Gamut," "The Juggler"—yes, +in every poem in the book—he takes up and handles the strange thing we +know as, or call, life, turning it now this way, now that, in an effort +to find out its meaning and purpose. He comes but little nearer +success in this than do most of the rest of men, of course; but the +magical and ever-fresh beauty of his expression, the haunting melody of +his lines, the variety of his images and figures and the depth and +range of his thought, put his searchings and ponderings in a class by +themselves. +</P> + +<P> +Lengthy quotation from Mr. Carman's books is not permitted here, and I +must guide myself accordingly, though with reluctance, because I +believe that in a study such as this the subject should be allowed to +speak for himself as much as possible. In "Behind the Arras" the poet +describes the passage from life to death as +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A cadence dying down unto its source<BR> +In music's course,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +and goes on to speak of death as +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">the broken rhythm of thought and man,</SPAN><BR> +The sweep and span<BR> +Of memory and hope<BR> +About the orbit where they still must grope<BR> +For wider scope,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To be through thousand springs restored, renewed,<BR> +With love imbrued,<BR> +With increments of will<BR> +Made strong, perceiving unattainment still<BR> +From each new skill.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Now follow some verses from "Behind the Gamut," to my mind the poet's +greatest single achievement; +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +As fine sand spread on a disc of silver,<BR> +At some chord which bids the motes combine,<BR> +Heeding the hidden and reverberant impulse,<BR> +Shifts and dances into curve and line,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The round earth, too, haply, like a dust-mote,<BR> +Was set whirling her assigned sure way,<BR> +Round this little orb of her ecliptic<BR> +To some harmony she must obey.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +And what of man? +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Linked to all his half-accomplished fellows,<BR> +Through unfrontiered provinces to range—<BR> +Man is but the morning dream of nature,<BR> +Roused to some wild cadence weird and strange.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Here, now, are some verses from "Pulvis et Umbra," which is to be found +in Mr. Carman's first book, <I>Low Tide on Grand Pré</I>, and in which the +poet addresses a moth which a storm has blown into his window: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For man walks the world with mourning<BR> +Down to death and leaves no trace,<BR> +With the dust upon his forehead,<BR> +And the shadow on his face.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Pillared dust and fleeing shadow<BR> +As the roadside wind goes by,<BR> +And the fourscore years that vanish<BR> +In the twinkling of an eye.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Pillared dust and fleeing shadow." Where in all our English +literature will one find the life history of man summed up more briefly +and, at the same time, more beautifully, than in that wonderful line? +Now follows a companion verse to those just quoted, taken from "Lord of +My Heart's Elation," which stands in the forefront of <I>From the Green +Book of the Bards</I>. It may be remarked here that while the poet recurs +again and again to some favorite thought or idea, it is never in the +same words. His expression is always new and fresh, showing how deep +and true is his inspiration. Again it is man who is pictured: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A fleet and shadowy column<BR> +Of dust and mountain rain,<BR> +To walk the earth a moment<BR> +And be dissolved again.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +But while Mr. Carman's speculations upon life's meaning and the mystery +of the future cannot but appeal to the thoughtful-minded, it is as an +interpreter of nature that he makes his widest appeal. Bliss Carman, I +must say here, and emphatically, is no mere landscape-painter; he +never, or scarcely ever, paints a picture of nature for its own sake. +He goes beyond the outward aspect of things and interprets or +translates for us with less keen senses as only a poet whose feeling +for nature is of the deepest and profoundest, who has gone to her +whole-heartedly and been taken close to her warm bosom, can do. Is +this not evident from these verses from "The Great Return"—originally +called "The Pagan's Prayer," and for some inscrutable reason to be +found only in the limited <I>Collected Poems</I>, issued in two stately +volumes in 1905 (1904)? +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When I have lifted up my heart to thee,<BR> +Thou hast ever hearkened and drawn near,<BR> +And bowed thy shining face close over me,<BR> +Till I could hear thee as the hill-flowers hear.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When I have cried to thee in lonely need,<BR> +Being but a child of thine bereft and wrung,<BR> +Then all the rivers in the hills gave heed;<BR> +And the great hill-winds in thy holy tongue—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +That ancient incommunicable speech—<BR> +The April stars and autumn sunsets know—<BR> +Soothed me and calmed with solace beyond reach<BR> +Of human ken, mysterious and low.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Who can read or listen to those moving lines without feeling that Mr. +Carman is in very truth a poet of nature—nay, Nature's own poet? But +how could he be other when, in "The Breath of the Reed" (<I>From the +Green Book of the Bards</I>), he makes the appeal? +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Make me thy priest, O Mother,<BR> +And prophet of thy mood,<BR> +With all the forest wonder<BR> +Enraptured and imbued.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +As becomes such a poet, and particularly a poet whose birth-month is +April, Mr. Carman sings much of the early spring. Again and again he +takes up his woodland pipe, and lo! Pan himself and all his train troop +joyously before us. Yet the singer's notes for all his singing never +become wearied or strident; his airs are ever new and fresh; his latest +songs are no less spontaneous and winning than were his first, written +how many years ago, while at the same time they have gained in beauty +and melody. What heart will not stir to the vibrant music of his +immortal "Spring Song," which was originally published in the first +<I>Songs from Vagabondia</I>, and the opening verses of which follow? +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Make me over, mother April,<BR> +When the sap begins to stir!<BR> +When thy flowery hand delivers<BR> +All the mountain-prisoned rivers,<BR> +And thy great heart beats and quivers<BR> +To revive the days that were,<BR> +Make me over, mother April,<BR> +When the sap begins to stir!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Take my dust and all my dreaming,<BR> +Count my heart-beats one by one,<BR> +Send them where the winters perish;<BR> +Then some golden noon recherish<BR> +And restore them in the sun,<BR> +Flower and scent and dust and dreaming,<BR> +With their heart-beats every one!<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +That poem is sufficient in itself to prove that Bliss Carman has full +right and title to be called Spring's own lyrist, though it may be +remarked here that not all his spring poems are so unfeignedly joyous. +Many of them indeed, have a touch, or more than a touch, of +wistfulness, for the poet knows well that sorrow lurks under all joy, +deep and well hidden though it may be. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Carman sings equally finely, though perhaps not so frequently, of +summer and the other seasons; but as he has other claims upon our +attention, I shall forbear to labor the fact, particularly as the +following collection demonstrates it sufficiently. One of those other +claims is as a writer of sea poetry. Few poets, it may be said, have +pictured the majesty and the mystery, the beauty and the terror of the +sea, better than he. His <I>Ballads of Lost Haven</I> is a veritable +treasure-house for those whose spirits find kinship in wide expanses of +moving waters. One of the best known poems in this volume is "The +Gravedigger," which opens thus: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Oh, the shambling sea is a sexton old,<BR> +And well his work is done.<BR> +With an equal grave for lord and knave,<BR> +He buries them every one.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then hoy and rip, with a rolling hip,<BR> +He makes for the nearest shore;<BR> +And God, who sent him a thousand ship,<BR> +Will send him a thousand more;<BR> +But some he'll save for a bleaching grave,<BR> +And shoulder them in to shore—<BR> +Shoulder them in, shoulder them in,<BR> +Shoulder them in to shore.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In "The City of the Sea" (<I>Last Songs from Vagabondia</I>) Mr. Carman +speaks of the seabells sounding +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The eternal cadence of sea sorrow<BR> +For Man's lot and immemorial wrong—<BR> +The lost strains that haunt the human dwelling<BR> +With the ghost of song.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Elsewhere he speaks of +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The great sea, mystic and musical.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +And here from another poem is a striking picture: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">... the old sea</SPAN><BR> +Seems to whimper and deplore<BR> +Mourning like a childless crone<BR> +With her sorrow left alone—<BR> +The eternal human cry<BR> +To the heedless passer-by.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +I have said above that Mr. Carman has had three distinct periods, and +intimated that the poems in the following collection are of his third +period. The first period may be said to be represented by the <I>Low +Tide</I> and <I>Behind the Arras</I> volumes, while the second is displayed in +the three volumes of <I>Songs from Vagabondia</I>, which he published in +association with his friend Richard Hovey. Bliss Carman was from the +first too original and individual a poet to be directly influenced by +anyone else; but there can be no doubt that his friendship with Hovey +helped to turn him from over-preoccupation with mysteries which, for +all their greatness, are not for man to solve, to an intenser +realisation of the beauty and loveliness of the world about him and of +the joys of human fellowship. The result is seen in such poems as +"Spring Song," quoted in part above, and his perhaps equally well-known +"The Joys of the Road," which appeared in the same volume with that +poem, and a few verses from which follow: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the joys of the road are chiefly these:<BR> +A crimson touch on the hardwood trees;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A vagrant's morning wide and blue,<BR> +In early fall, when the wind walks, too;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A shadowy highway cool and brown,<BR> +Alluring up and enticing down<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +From rippled waters and dappled swamp,<BR> +From purple glory to scarlet pomp;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The outward eye, the quiet will,<BR> +And the striding heart from hill to hill.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Some of the finest of Mr. Carman's work is contained in his elegiac or +memorial poems, in which he commemorates Keats, Shelley, William Blake, +Lincoln, Stevenson, and other men for whom he has a kindred feeling, +and also friends whom he has loved and lost. Listen to these moving +lines from "Non Omnis Moriar," written in memory of Gleeson White, and +to be found in <I>Last Songs from Vagabondia</I>: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There is a part of me that knows,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Beneath incertitude and fear,</SPAN><BR> +I shall not perish when I pass<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Beyond mortality's frontier;</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But greatly having joyed and grieved,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Greatly content, shall hear the sigh</SPAN><BR> +Of the strange wind across the lone<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Bright lands of taciturnity.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In patience therefore I await<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My friend's unchanged benign regard,—</SPAN><BR> +Some April when I too shall be<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Spilt water from a broken shard.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In "The White Gull," written for the centenary of the birth of Shelley +in 1892, and included in <I>By the Aurelian Wall</I>, he thus apostrophizes +that clear and shining spirit: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O captain of the rebel host,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Lead forth and far!</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Thy toiling troopers of the night</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Press on the unavailing fight;</SPAN><BR> +The sombre field is not yet lost,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With thee for star.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thy lips have set the hail and haste<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of clarions free</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">To bugle down the wintry verge</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Of time forever, where the surge</SPAN><BR> +Thunders and trembles on a waste<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And open sea.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In "A Seamark," a threnody for Robert Louis Stevenson, which appears in +the same volume, the poet hails "R.L.S." (of whose tribe he may be said +to be truly one) as +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The master of the roving kind,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +and goes on: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O all you hearts about the world<BR> +In whom the truant gypsy blood,<BR> +Under the frost of this pale time,<BR> +Sleeps like the daring sap and flood<BR> +That dreams of April and reprieve!<BR> +You whom the haunted vision drives,<BR> +Incredulous of home and ease.<BR> +Perfection's lovers all your lives!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +You whom the wander-spirit loves<BR> +To lead by some forgotten clue<BR> +Forever vanishing beyond<BR> +Horizon brinks forever new;<BR> +Our restless loved adventurer,<BR> +On secret orders come to him,<BR> +Has slipped his cable, cleared the reef,<BR> +And melted on the white sea-rim.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"Perfection's lovers all your lives." Of these, it may be said without +qualification, is Bliss Carman himself. +</P> + +<P> +No summary of Mr. Carman's work, however cursory, would be worthy of +the name if it omitted mention of his ventures in the realm of Greek +myth. <I>From the Book of Myths</I> is made up of work of that sort, every +poem in it being full of the beauty of phrase and melody of which Mr. +Carman alone has the secret. The finest poems in the book, barring the +opening one, "Overlord," are "Daphne," "The Dead Faun," "Hylas," and +"At Phĉdra's Tomb," but I can do no more here than name them, for +extracts would fail to reveal their full beauty. And beauty, after all +is said, is the first and last thing with Mr. Carman. As he says +himself somewhere: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The joy of the hand that hews for beauty<BR> +Is the dearest solace under the sun.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +And again +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The eternal slaves of beauty<BR> +Are the masters of the world.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +A slave—a happy, willing slave—to beauty is the poet himself, and the +world can never repay him for the message of beauty which he has +brought it. +</P> + +<P> +Kindred to <I>From the Book of Myths</I>, but much more important, is +<I>Sappho: One Hundred Lyrics</I>, one of the most successful of the +numerous attempts which have been made to recapture the poems by that +high priestess of song which remain to us only in fragments. Mr. +Carman, as Charles G. D. Roberts points out in an introduction to the +volume, has made no attempt here at translation or paraphrasing; his +venture has been "the most perilous and most alluring in the whole +field of poetry"—that of imaginative and, at the same time, +interpretive construction. Brief quotation again would fail to convey +an adequate idea of the exquisiteness of the work, and all I can do, +therefore, is to urge all lovers of real poetry to possess themselves +of <I>Sappho: One Hundred Lyrics</I>, for it is literally a storehouse of +lyric beauty. +</P> + +<P> +I must not fail here to speak of <I>From the Book of Valentines</I>, which +contains some lovely things, notably "At the Great Release." This is +not only one of the finest of all Mr. Carman's poems, but it is also +one of the finest poems of our time. It is a love poem, and no one +possessing any real feeling for poetry can read it without experiencing +that strange thrill of the spirit which only the highest form of poetry +can communicate. "Morning and Evening," "In an Iris Meadow," and "A +letter from Lesbos" must be also mentioned. In the last named poem, +Sappho is represented as writing to Gorgo, and expresses herself in +these moving words: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +If the high gods in that triumphant time<BR> +Have calendared no day for thee to come<BR> +Light-hearted to this doorway as of old,<BR> +Unmoved I shall behold their pomps go by—<BR> +The painted seasons in their pageantry,<BR> +The silvery progressions of the moon,<BR> +And all their infinite ardors unsubdued,<BR> +Pass with the wind replenishing the earth<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Incredulous forever I must live<BR> +And, once thy lover, without joy behold,<BR> +The gradual uncounted years go by,<BR> +Sharing the bitterness of all things made.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Mention must be now made of <I>Songs of the Sea Children</I>, which can be +described only as a collection of the sweetest and tenderest love +lyrics written in our time— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">the lyric songs</SPAN><BR> +The earthborn children sing,<BR> +When wild-wood laughter throngs<BR> +The shy bird-throats of spring;<BR> +When there's not a joy of the heart<BR> +But flies like a flag unfurled,<BR> +And the swelling buds bring back<BR> +The April of the world.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +So perfect and complete are these lyrics that it would be almost +sacrilege to quote any of them unless entire. Listen however, to these +verses: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The day is lost without thee,<BR> +The night has not a star.<BR> +Thy going is an empty room<BR> +Whose door is left ajar.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Depart: it is the footfall<BR> +Of twilight on the hills.<BR> +Return: and every rood of ground<BR> +Breaks into daffodils.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +There are those who will have it that Bliss Carman has been away from +Canada so long that he has ceased to be, in a real sense, a Canadian. +Such assume rather than know, for a very little study of his work would +show them that it is shot through and through with the poet's feeling +for the land of his birth. Memories of his childhood and youthful +years down by the sea are still fresh in Mr. Carman's mind, and inspire +him again and again in his writing. "A Remembrance," at the beginning +of the present collection, may be pointed to as a striking instance of +this, but proof positive is the volume, <I>Songs from a Northern Garden</I>, +for it could have been written only by a Canadian, born and bred, one +whose heart and soul thrill to the thought of Canada. I would single +out from this volume for special mention as being "Canadian" in the +fullest sense "In a Grand Pré Garden," "The Keeper's Silence," "At Home +and Abroad," "Killoleet," and "Above the Gaspereau," but have no space +to quote from them. +</P> + +<P> +But Mr. Carman is not only a Canadian, he is also a Briton; and +evidence of this is his <I>Ode on the Coronation</I>, written on the +occasion of the crowning of King Edward VII in 1902. This poem—the +very existence of which is hardly known among us—ought to be put in +the hands of every child and youth who speaks the English tongue, for +no other, I dare maintain—nothing by Kipling, or Newbolt, or any other +of our so-called "Imperial singers"—expresses more truly and more +movingly the deep feeling of love and reverence which the very thought +of England evokes in every son of hers, even though it may never have +been his to see her white cliffs rise or to tread her storied ground: +</P> + +<P> +O England, little mother by the sleepless Northern tide,<BR> +Having bred so many nations to devotion, trust, and pride,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Very tenderly we turn</SPAN><BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With welling hearts that yearn</SPAN><BR> +Still to love you and defend you,—let the sons of men discern<BR> +Wherein your right and title, might and majesty, reside.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In concluding this, I greatly fear, lamentably inadequate study, I come +to the collection which follows, and which, as intimated above, +represents the work of Mr. Carman's latest period. I must say at once +that, while I yield to no one in admiration for <I>Low Tide</I> and the +other books of that period, or for the work of the second period, as +represented by the <I>Songs from Vagabondia</I> volumes, I have no +hesitation in declaring that I regard the poet's work of the past few +years with even higher admiration. It may not possess the force and +vigor of the work which preceded it; but anything seemingly missing in +that respect is more than made up for me by increased beauty and +clarity of expression. The mysticism—verging, or more than verging, +at times on symbolism—which marked his earlier poems, and which hung, +as it were, as a veil between them and the reader, has gone, and the +poet's thought or theme now lies clearly before us as in a mirror. +What—to take a verse from the following pages at random—could be more +pellucid, more crystal clear in expression—what indeed, could come +closer to that achieving of the impossible at which every real poet +must aim—than this from "In Gold Lacquer" (page 12)? +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Gold are the great trees overhead,<BR> +And gold the leaf-strewn grass,<BR> +As though a cloth of gold were spread<BR> +To let a seraph pass.<BR> +And where the pageant should go by,<BR> +Meadow and wood and stream,<BR> +The world is all of lacquered gold,<BR> +Expectant as a dream.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The poet, happily, has fully recovered from the serious illness which +laid him low some two years ago, and which for a time caused his +friends and admirers the gravest concern, and so we may look forward +hopefully to seeing further volumes of verse come from the press to +make certain his name and fame. But if, for any reason, this should +not be—which the gods forfend!—<I>Later Poems</I>, I dare affirm, must and +will be regarded as the fine flower and crowning achievement of the +genius and art of Bliss Carman. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +R. H. HATHAWAY. +<BR><BR> +Toronto, 1921. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap000c"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE BOOKS OF BLISS CARMAN: POETRY AND PROSE +</H3> + +<PRE STYLE="margin-left: 10%"> +LOW TIDE ON GRAND PRÉ: A BOOK OF LYRICS . . . . . . . . . . . . 1893 + +SONGS FROM VAGABONDIA (WITH RICHARD HOVEY) . . . . . . . . . . . 1894 + +BEHIND THE ARRAS: A BOOK OF THE UNSEEN . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1895 + +A SEAMARK: A THRENODY FOR ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON . . . . . . . . 1895 + +MORE SONGS FROM VAGABONDIA (WITH HOVEY) . . . . . . . . . . . . 1896 + +BALLADS OF LOST HAVEN: A BOOK OF THE SEA . . . . . . . . . . . . 1897 + +BY THE AURELIAN WALL, AND OTHER ELEGIES . . . . . . . . . . . . 1898 + +A WINTER HOLIDAY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1899 + +LAST SONGS FROM VAGABONDIA (WITH HOVEY) . . . . . . . . . . . . 1901 + +BALLADS AND LYRICS (A SELECTION) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1902 + +ODE ON THE CORONATION OF KING EDWARD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1902 + +FROM THE BOOK OF MYTHS ("PIPES OF PAN," No. I.) . . . . . . . . 1902 + +FROM THE GREEN BOOK OF THE BARDS ("PIPES OF PAN," No. II.) . . . 1903 + +THE KINSHIP OF NATURE (ESSAYS) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1904 + +SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN ("PIPES OF PAN," No. III.) . . . . . . 1904 + +SONGS FROM A NORTHERN GARDEN ("PIPES OF PAN," No. IV.) . . . . . 1904 + +THE FRIENDSHIP OF ART (ESSAYS) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1904 + +SAPPHO: ONE HUNDRED LYRICS (500 COPIES) . . . . . . . . . . . . 1905 + +FROM THE BOOK OF VALENTINES ("PIPES OF PAN," No. V.) . . . . . . 1905 + +THE POETRY OF LIFE (ESSAYS) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1905 + +COLLECTED POEMS, 2 VOLS. (500 COPIES) . . . . . . . . . 1905 (1904) + +THE PIPES OF PAN (DEFINITIVE EDITION) . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1906 + +THE MAKING OF PERSONALITY (ESSAYS) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1908 + +THE ROUGH RIDER, AND OTHER POEMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1909 + +ECHOES FROM VAGABONDIA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1912 + +DAUGHTERS OF DAWN: A LYRICAL PAGEANT (WITH MARY PERRY KING) . . 1913 + +EARTH DEITIES, AND OTHER RYTHMIC MASQUES (WITH MARY PERRY KING) 1914 + +APRIL AIRS: A BOOK OF NEW ENGLAND LYRICS . . . . . . . . . . . . 1916 +</PRE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap000d"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Contents +</H3> + +<P CLASS="noindent" STYLE="margin-left: 10%"> +<A HREF="#appreciation">BLISS CARMAN: AN APPRECIATION</A><BR> +<A HREF="#vestigia">VESTIGIA</A><BR> +<A HREF="#remembrance">A REMEMBRANCE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#yule">THE SHIPS OF YULE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#saintjohn">THE SHIPS OF SAINT JOHN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#dreams">THE GARDEN OF DREAMS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#magic">GARDEN MAGIC</A><BR> +<A HREF="#gold">IN GOLD LACQUER</A><BR> +<A HREF="#aprilian">APRILIAN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#shadows">GARDEN SHADOWS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#battle">IN THE DAY OF BATTLE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#trees">TREES</A><BR> +<A HREF="#givers">THE GIVERS OF LIFE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#fireside">A FIRESIDE VISION</A><BR> +<A HREF="#water">A WATER COLOR</A><BR> +<A HREF="#threnody">THRENODY FOR A POET</A><BR> +<A HREF="#dust">DUST OF THE STREET</A><BR> +<A HREF="#lady">TO A YOUNG LADY ON HER BIRTHDAY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#gift">THE GIFT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#hillborn">THE CRY OF THE HILLBORN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#mountain">A MOUNTAIN GATEWAY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#morning">MORNING IN THE HILLS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#woodpath">A WOODPATH</A><BR> +<A HREF="#weather">WEATHER OF THE SOUL</A><BR> +<A HREF="#here">HERE AND NOW</A><BR> +<A HREF="#angel">THE ANGEL OF JOY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#homestead">THE HOMESTEAD</A><BR> +<A HREF="#whispers">"THE STARRY MIDNIGHT WHISPERS"</A><BR> +<A HREF="#lyric">A LYRIC</A><BR> +<A HREF="#april">"APRIL NOW IN MORNING CLAD"</A><BR> +<A HREF="#nike">NIKE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#traveller">THE ENCHANTED TRAVELLER</A><BR> +<A HREF="#saraband">SPRING'S SARABAND</A><BR> +<A HREF="#triumphalis">TRIUMPHALIS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#twilights">"NOW THE LENGTHENING TWILIGHTS HOLD"</A><BR> +<A HREF="#soul">THE SOUL OF APRIL</A><BR> +<A HREF="#aprilmorning">AN APRIL MORNING</A><BR> +<A HREF="#voices">EARTH VOICES</A><BR> +<A HREF="#resurgam">RESURGAM</A><BR> +<A HREF="#easter">EASTER EVE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#time">NOW IS THE TIME OF YEAR</A><BR> +<A HREF="#redwing">THE REDWING</A><BR> +<A HREF="#rainbird">THE RAINBIRD</A><BR> +<A HREF="#lament">LAMENT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#moon">UNDER THE APRIL MOON</A><BR> +<A HREF="#flute">THE FLUTE OF SPRING</A><BR> +<A HREF="#spring">SPRING NIGHT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#bloodroot">BLOODROOT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#daffodil">DAFFODIL'S RETURN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#lilac">NOW THE LILAC TREE'S IN BUD</A><BR> +<A HREF="#iris">WHITE IRIS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#tree">THE TREE OF HEAVEN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#peony">PEONY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#pan">THE URBAN PAN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#sailing">THE SAILING OF THE FLEETS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#newengland">"'TIS MAY NOW IN NEW ENGLAND"</A><BR> +<A HREF="#earlymay">IN EARLY MAY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#fireflies">FIREFLIES</A><BR> +<A HREF="#sankoty">THE PATH TO SANKOTY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#monomoy">OFF MONOMOY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#stgermain">IN ST GERMAIN STREET</A><BR> +<A HREF="#catskills">PAN IN THE CATSKILLS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#june">A NEW ENGLAND JUNE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#noon">THE TENT OF NOON</A><BR> +<A HREF="#children">CHILDREN OF DREAM</A><BR> +<A HREF="#roadside">ROADSIDE FLOWERS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#saintrose">THE GARDEN OF SAINT ROSE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#voice">THE WORLD VOICE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#grass">SONGS OF THE GRASS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#choristers">THE CHORISTERS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#counsel">THE WEED'S COUNSEL</A><BR> +<A HREF="#heron">THE BLUE HERON</A><BR> +<A HREF="#woodland">WOODLAND RAIN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#storm">SUMMER STORM</A><BR> +<A HREF="#sunbeams">DANCE OF THE SUNBEAMS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#campfire">THE CAMPFIRE OF THE SUN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#streams">SUMMER STREAMS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#woods">THE GOD OF THE WOODS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#sunrise">AT SUNRISE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#twilight">AT TWILIGHT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#moonrise">MOONRISE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#queen">THE QUEEN OF NIGHT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#nightlyric">NIGHT LYRIC</A><BR> +<A HREF="#heart">THE HEART OF NIGHT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#peace">PEACE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#graywall">THE OLD GRAY WALL</A><BR> +<A HREF="#tedeum">TE DEUM</A><BR> +<A HREF="#october">IN OCTOBER</A><BR> +<A HREF="#waters">BY STILL WATERS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#lines">LINES FOR A PICTURE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#pasture">THE DESERTED PASTURE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#autumn">AUTUMN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#november">NOVEMBER TWILIGHT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#ghostyard">THE GHOSTYARD OF THE GOLDENROD</A><BR> +<A HREF="#before">BEFORE THE SNOW</A><BR> +<A HREF="#winter">WINTER</A><BR> +<A HREF="#winterpiece">A WINTER PIECE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#winterstreams">WINTER STREAMS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#wintertwilight">WINTER TWILIGHT</A><BR> +<A HREF="#twelfth">THE TWELFTH NIGHT STAR</A><BR> +<A HREF="#choral">A CHRISTMAS EVE CHORAL</A><BR> +<A HREF="#song">CHRISTMAS SONG</A><BR> +<A HREF="#wisemen">THE WISE MEN FROM THE EAST</A><BR> +<A HREF="#magi">THE SENDING OF THE MAGI</A><BR> +<A HREF="#angels">THE ANGELS OF MAN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#making">AT THE MAKING OF MAN</A><BR> +<A HREF="#stmichaels">ST. MICHAEL'S STAR</A><BR> +<A HREF="#dreamers">THE DREAMERS</A><BR> +<A HREF="#eldorado">EL DORADO</A><BR> +<A HREF="#plaza">ON THE PLAZA</A><BR> +<A HREF="#painter">A PAINTER'S HOLIDAY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#mirage">MIRAGE</A><BR> +<A HREF="#victory">THE WINGED VICTORY</A><BR> +<A HREF="#gatepeace">THE GATE OF PEACE</A><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="vestigia"></A> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Later Poems +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Vestigia.<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>I took a day to search for God,<BR> +And found Him not. But as I trod<BR> +By rocky ledge, through woods untamed,<BR> +Just where one scarlet lily flamed,<BR> +I saw His footprint in the sod.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Then suddenly, all unaware,<BR> +Far off in the deep shadows, where<BR> +A solitary hermit thrush<BR> +Sang through the holy twilight hush—<BR> +I heard His voice upon the air.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>And even as I marvelled how<BR> +God gives us Heaven here and now,<BR> +In a stir of wind that hardly shook<BR> +The poplar leaves beside the brook—<BR> +His hand was light upon my brow.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>At last with evening as I turned<BR> +Homeward, and thought what I had learned<BR> +And all that there was still to probe—<BR> +I caught the glory of His robe<BR> +Where the last fires of sunset burned.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Back to the world with quickening start<BR> +I looked and longed for any part<BR> +In making saving Beauty be....<BR> +And from that kindling ecstasy<BR> +I knew God dwelt within my heart.</I><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="remembrance"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Remembrance.<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here in lovely New England<BR> +When summer is come, a sea-turn<BR> +Flutters a page of remembrance<BR> +In the volume of long ago.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Soft is the wind over Grand Pré,<BR> +Stirring the heads of the grasses,<BR> +Sweet is the breath of the orchards<BR> +White with their apple-blow.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There at their infinite business<BR> +Of measuring time forever,<BR> +Murmuring songs of the sea,<BR> +The great tides come and go.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Over the dikes and the uplands<BR> +Wander the great cloud shadows,<BR> +Strange as the passing of sorrow,<BR> +Beautiful, solemn, and slow.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For, spreading her old enchantment<BR> +Of tender ineffable wonder,<BR> +Summer is there in the Northland!<BR> +How should my heart not know?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="yule"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Ships of Yule<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When I was just a little boy,<BR> +Before I went to school,<BR> +I had a fleet of forty sail<BR> +I called the Ships of Yule;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Of every rig, from rakish brig<BR> +And gallant barkentine,<BR> +To little Fundy fishing boats<BR> +With gunwales painted green.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They used to go on trading trips<BR> +Around the world for me,<BR> +For though I had to stay on shore<BR> +My heart was on the sea.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They stopped at every port to call<BR> +From Babylon to Rome,<BR> +To load with all the lovely things<BR> +We never had at home;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With elephants and ivory<BR> +Bought from the King of Tyre,<BR> +And shells and silk and sandal-wood<BR> +That sailor men admire;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With figs and dates from Samarcand,<BR> +And squatty ginger-jars,<BR> +And scented silver amulets<BR> +From Indian bazaars;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With sugar-cane from Port of Spain,<BR> +And monkeys from Ceylon,<BR> +And paper lanterns from Pekin<BR> +With painted dragons on;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With cocoanuts from Zanzibar,<BR> +And pines from Singapore;<BR> +And when they had unloaded these<BR> +They could go back for more.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And even after I was big<BR> +And had to go to school,<BR> +My mind was often far away<BR> +Aboard the Ships of Yule.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="saintjohn"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Ships of Saint John<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Where are the ships I used to know,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That came to port on the Fundy tide</SPAN><BR> +Half a century ago,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In beauty and stately pride?</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In they would come past the beacon light,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With the sun on gleaming sail and spar,</SPAN><BR> +Folding their wings like birds in flight<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">From countries strange and far.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Schooner and brig and barkentine,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I watched them slow as the sails were furled,</SPAN><BR> +And wondered what cities they must have seen<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">On the other side of the world.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Frenchman and Britisher and Dane,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Yankee, Spaniard and Portugee,</SPAN><BR> +And many a home ship back again<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With her stories of the sea.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Calm and victorious, at rest<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">From the relentless, rough sea-play,</SPAN><BR> +The wild duck on the river's breast<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Was not more sure than they.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The creatures of a passing race,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The dark spruce forests made them strong,</SPAN><BR> +The sea's lore gave them magic grace,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The great winds taught them song.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And God endowed them each with life—<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">His blessing on the craftsman's skill—</SPAN><BR> +To meet the blind unreasoned strife<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And dare the risk of ill.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Not mere insensate wood and paint<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Obedient to the helm's command,</SPAN><BR> +But often restive as a saint<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Beneath the Heavenly hand.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All the beauty and mystery<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of life were there, adventure bold,</SPAN><BR> +Youth, and the glamour of the sea<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And all its sorrows old.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And many a time I saw them go<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Out on the flood at morning brave,</SPAN><BR> +As the little tugs had them in tow,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the sunlight danced on the wave.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There all day long you could hear the sound<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of the caulking iron, the ship's bronze bell,</SPAN><BR> +And the clank of the capstan going round<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As the great tides rose and fell.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The sailors' songs, the Captain's shout,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The boatswain's whistle piping shrill,</SPAN><BR> +And the roar as the anchor chain runs out,—<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I often hear them still.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I can see them still, the sun on their gear,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The shining streak as the hulls careen,</SPAN><BR> +And the flag at the peak unfurling,—clear<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As a picture on a screen.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The fog still hangs on the long tide-rips,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The gulls go wavering to and fro,</SPAN><BR> +But where are all the beautiful ships<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I knew so long ago?</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="dreams"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Garden of Dreams<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +My heart is a garden of dreams<BR> +Where you walk when day is done,<BR> +Fair as the royal flowers,<BR> +Calm as the lingering sun.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Never a drouth comes there,<BR> +Nor any frost that mars,<BR> +Only the wind of love<BR> +Under the early stars,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The living breath that moves<BR> +Whispering to and fro,<BR> +Like the voice of God in the dusk<BR> +Of the garden long ago.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="magic"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Garden Magic<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Within my stone-walled garden<BR> +(I see her standing now,<BR> +Uplifted in the twilight,<BR> +With glory on her brow!)<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I love to walk at evening<BR> +And watch, when winds are low,<BR> +The new moon in the tree-tops,<BR> +Because she loved it so!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And there entranced I listen,<BR> +While flowers and winds confer,<BR> +And all their conversation<BR> +Is redolent of her.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I love the trees that guard it,<BR> +Upstanding and serene,<BR> +So noble, so undaunted,<BR> +Because that was her mien.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I love the brook that bounds it,<BR> +Because its silver voice<BR> +Is like her bubbling laughter<BR> +That made the world rejoice.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I love the golden jonquils,<BR> +Because she used to say,<BR> +If soul could choose a color<BR> +It would be clothed as they.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I love the blue-gray iris,<BR> +Because her eyes were blue,<BR> +Sea-deep and heaven-tender<BR> +In meaning and in hue.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I love the small wild roses,<BR> +Because she used to stand<BR> +Adoringly above them<BR> +And bless them with her hand.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +These were her boon companions.<BR> +But more than all the rest<BR> +I love the April lilac,<BR> +Because she loved it best.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Soul of undying rapture!<BR> +How love's enchantment clings,<BR> +With sorcery and fragrance,<BR> +About familiar things!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="gold"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +In Gold Lacquer<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Gold are the great trees overhead,<BR> +And gold the leaf-strewn grass,<BR> +As though a cloth of gold were spread<BR> +To let a seraph pass.<BR> +And where the pageant should go by,<BR> +Meadow and wood and stream,<BR> +The world is all of lacquered gold,<BR> +Expectant as a dream.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Against the sunset's burning gold,<BR> +Etched in dark monotone<BR> +Behind its alley of grey trees<BR> +And gateposts of grey stone,<BR> +Stands the Old Manse, about whose eaves<BR> +An air of mystery clings,<BR> +Abandoned to the lonely peace<BR> +Of bygone ghostly things.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In molten gold the river winds<BR> +With languid sweep and turn,<BR> +Beside the red-gold wooded hill<BR> +Yellowed with ash and fern.<BR> +The streets are tiled with gold-green shade<BR> +And arched with fretted gold,<BR> +Ecstatic aisles that richly thread<BR> +This minster grim and old.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The air is flecked with filtered gold,—<BR> +The shimmer of romance<BR> +Whose ageless glamour still must hold<BR> +The world as in a trance,<BR> +Pouring o'er every time and place<BR> +Light of an amber sea,<BR> +The spell of all the gladsome things<BR> +That have been or shall be.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="aprilian"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Aprilian<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When April came with sunshine<BR> +And showers and lilac bloom,<BR> +My heart with sudden gladness<BR> +Was like a fragrant room.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Her eyes were heaven's own azure,<BR> +As deep as God's own truth.<BR> +Her soul was made of rapture<BR> +And mystery and youth.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +She knew the sorry burden<BR> +Of all the ancient years,<BR> +Yet could not dwell with sadness<BR> +And memory and tears.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With her there was no shadow<BR> +Of failure nor despair,<BR> +But only loving joyance.<BR> +O Heart, how glad we were!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="shadows"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Garden Shadows<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the dawn winds whisper<BR> +To the standing corn,<BR> +And the rose of morning<BR> +From the dark is born,<BR> +All my shadowy garden<BR> +Seems to grow aware<BR> +Of a fragrant presence,<BR> +Half expected there.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the golden shimmer<BR> +Of the burning noon,<BR> +When the birds are silent<BR> +And the poppies swoon,<BR> +Once more I behold her<BR> +Smile and turn her face,<BR> +With its infinite regard,<BR> +Its immortal grace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the twilight silvers<BR> +Every nodding flower,<BR> +And the new moon hallows<BR> +The first evening hour,<BR> +Is it not her footfall<BR> +Down the garden walks,<BR> +Where the drowsy blossoms<BR> +Slumber on their stalks?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the starry quiet,<BR> +When the soul is free,<BR> +And a vernal message<BR> +Stirs the lilac tree,<BR> +Surely I have felt her<BR> +Pass and brush my cheek,<BR> +With the eloquence of love<BR> +That does not need to speak!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="battle"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +In The Day of Battle<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the day of battle,<BR> +In the night of dread,<BR> +Let one hymn be lifted,<BR> +Let one prayer be said.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Not for pride of conquest,<BR> +Not for vengeance wrought,<BR> +Nor for peace and safety<BR> +With dishonour bought!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Praise for faith in freedom,<BR> +Our fighting fathers' stay,<BR> +Born of dreams and daring,<BR> +Bred above dismay.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Prayer for cloudless vision,<BR> +And the valiant hand,<BR> +That the right may triumph<BR> +To the last demand.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="trees"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Trees<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the Garden of Eden, planted by God,<BR> +There were goodly trees in the springing sod,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Trees of beauty and height and grace,<BR> +To stand in splendor before His face.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Apple and hickory, ash and pear,<BR> +Oak and beech and the tulip rare,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The trembling aspen, the noble pine,<BR> +The sweeping elm by the river line;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Trees for the birds to build and sing,<BR> +And the lilac tree for a joy in spring;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Trees to turn at the frosty call<BR> +And carpet the ground for their Lord's footfall;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Trees for fruitage and fire and shade,<BR> +Trees for the cunning builder's trade;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Wood for the bow, the spear, and the flail,<BR> +The keel and the mast of the daring sail;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He made them of every grain and girth<BR> +For the use of man in the Garden of Earth.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then lest the soul should not lift her eyes<BR> +From the gift to the Giver of Paradise,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +On the crown of a hill, for all to see,<BR> +God planted a scarlet maple tree.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="givers"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Givers of Life<BR> +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who called us forth out of darkness and gave us the gift of life,<BR> +Who set our hands to the toiling, our feet in the field of strife?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Darkly they mused, predestined to knowledge of viewless things,<BR> +Sowing the seed of wisdom, guarding the living springs.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Little they reckoned privation, hunger or hardship or cold,<BR> +If only the life might prosper, and the joy that grows not old.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With sorceries subtler than music, with knowledge older than speech,<BR> +Gentle as wind in the wheat-field, strong as the tide on the beach,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Out of their beauty and longing, out of their raptures and tears,<BR> +In patience and pride they bore us, to war with the warring years.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who looked on the world before them, and summoned and chose<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">our sires,</SPAN><BR> +Subduing the wayward impulse to the will of their deep desires?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Sovereigns of ultimate issues under the greater laws,<BR> +Theirs was the mystic mission of the eternal cause;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Confident, tender, courageous, leaving the low for the higher,<BR> +Lifting the feet of the nations out of the dust and the mire;<BR> +Luring civilization on to the fair and new,<BR> +Given God's bidding to follow, having God's business to do.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +III<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who strengthened our souls with courage, and taught us the ways<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of Earth?</SPAN><BR> +Who gave us our patterns of beauty, our standards of flawless worth?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Mothers, unmilitant, lovely, moulding our manhood then,<BR> +Walked in their woman's glory, swaying the might of men.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They schooled us to service and honor, modest and clean and fair,—<BR> +The code of their worth of living, taught with the sanction<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of prayer.</SPAN><BR> +They were our sharers of sorrow, they were our makers of joy,<BR> +Lighting the lamp of manhood in the heart of the lonely boy.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Haloed with love and with wonder, in sheltered ways they trod,<BR> +Seers of sublime divination, keeping the truce of God.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IV<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who called us from youth and dreaming, and set ambition alight,<BR> +And made us fit for the contest,—men, by their tender rite?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Sweethearts above our merit, charming our strength and skill<BR> +To be the pride of their loving, to be the means of their will.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +If we be the builders of beauty, if we be the masters of art,<BR> +Theirs were the gleaming ideals, theirs the uplift of the heart.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Truly they measure the lightness of trappings and ease and fame,<BR> +For the teeming desire of their yearning is ever and ever the same:<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To crown their lovers with gladness, to clothe their sons<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">with delight,</SPAN><BR> +And see the men of their making lords in the best man's right.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lavish of joy and labor, broken only by wrong,<BR> +These are the guardians of being, spirited, sentient and strong.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Theirs is the starry vision, theirs the inspiriting hope,<BR> +Since Night, the brooding enchantress, promised that day<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">should ope.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +V<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lo, we have built and invented, reasoned, discovered and planned,<BR> +To rear us a palace of splendor, and make us a heaven by hand.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We are shaken with dark misgiving, as kingdoms rise and fall;<BR> +But the women who went to found them are never counted at all.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Versed in the soul's traditions, skilled in humanity's lore,<BR> +They wait for their crown of rapture, and weep for the sins of war.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And behold they turn from our triumphs, as it was in the first<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of days,</SPAN><BR> +For a little heaven of ardor and a little heartening of praise.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +These are the rulers of kingdoms beyond the domains of state,<BR> +Martyrs of all men's folly, over-rulers of fate.<BR> +These we will love and honor, these we will serve and defend,<BR> +Fulfilling the pride of nature, till nature shall have an end.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +VI<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +This is the code unwritten, this is the creed we hold,<BR> +Guarding the little and lonely, gladdening the helpless and old,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Apart from the brunt of the battle our wondrous women shall bide,<BR> +For the sake of a tranquil wisdom and the need of a spirit's guide.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Come they into assembly, or keep they another door,<BR> +Our makers of life shall lighten the days as the years of yore.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The lure of their laughter shall lead us, the lilt of their words<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">shall sway.</SPAN><BR> +Though life and death should defeat us, their solace shall be<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">our stay.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Veiled in mysterious beauty, vested in magical grace,<BR> +They have walked with angels at twilight and looked upon glory's face.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Life we will give for their safety, care for their fruitful ease,<BR> +Though we break at the toiling benches or go down in the smoky seas.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +This is the gospel appointed to govern a world of men.<BR> +Till love has died, and the echoes have whispered the last Amen.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="fireside"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Fireside Vision<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Once I walked the world enchanted<BR> +Through the scented woods of spring,<BR> +Hand in hand with Love, in rapture<BR> +Just to hear a bluebird sing.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the lonely winds of autumn<BR> +Moan about my gusty eaves,<BR> +As I sit beside the fire<BR> +Listening to the flying leaves.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +As the dying embers settle<BR> +And the twilight falls apace,<BR> +Through the gloom I see a vision<BR> +Full of ardor, full of grace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the Architect of Beauty<BR> +Breathed the lyric soul in man,<BR> +Lo, the being that he fashioned<BR> +Was of such a mould and plan!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Bravely through the deepening shadows<BR> +Moves that figure half divine,<BR> +With its tenderness of bearing,<BR> +With its dignity of line.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Eyes more wonderful than evening<BR> +With the new moon on the hill,<BR> +Mouth with traces of God's humor<BR> +In its corners lurking still.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ah, she smiles, in recollection;<BR> +Lays a hand upon my brow;<BR> +Rests this head upon Love's bosom!<BR> +Surely it is April now!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="water"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Water Color<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There's a picture in my room<BR> +Lightens many an hour of gloom,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Cheers me under fortune's frown<BR> +And the drudgery of town.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Many and many a winter day<BR> +When my soul sees all things gray,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here is veritable June,<BR> +Heart's content and spirit's boon.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It is scarce a hand-breadth wide,<BR> +Not a span from side to side,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Yet it is an open door<BR> +Looking back to joy once more,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Where the level marshes lie,<BR> +A quiet journey of the eye,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And the unsubstantial blue<BR> +Makes the fine illusion true.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So I forth and travel there<BR> +In the blessed light and air,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Miles of green tranquillity<BR> +Down the river to the sea.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here the sea-birds roam at will,<BR> +And the sea-wind on the hill<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Brings the hollow pebbly roar<BR> +From the dim and rosy shore,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With the very scent and draft<BR> +Of the old sea's mighty craft.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I am standing on the dunes,<BR> +By some charm that must be June's,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the magic of her hand<BR> +Lays a sea-spell on the land.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And the old enchantment falls<BR> +On the blue-gray orchard walls<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And the purple high-top boles,<BR> +While the orange orioles<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Flame and whistle through the green<BR> +Of that paradisal scene.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Strolling idly for an hour<BR> +Where the elder is in flower,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I can hear the bob-white call<BR> +Down beyond the pasture wall.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Musing in the scented heat,<BR> +Where the bayberry is sweet,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I can see the shadows run<BR> +Up the cliff-side in the sun.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Or I cross the bridge and reach<BR> +The mossers' houses on the beach,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Where the bathers on the sand<BR> +Lie sea-freshened and sun-tanned.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thus I pass the gates of time<BR> +And the boundaries of clime,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Change the ugly man-made street<BR> +For God's country green and sweet.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Fag of body, irk of mind,<BR> +In a moment left behind,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Once more I possess my soul<BR> +With the poise and self-control<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Beauty gives the free of heart<BR> +Through the sorcery of art.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="threnody"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Threnody for a Poet<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Not in the ancient abbey,<BR> +Nor in the city ground,<BR> +Not in the lonely mountains,<BR> +Nor in the blue profound,<BR> +Lay him to rest when his time is come<BR> +And the smiling mortal lips are dumb;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But here in the decent quiet<BR> +Under the whispering pines,<BR> +Where the dogwood breaks in blossom<BR> +And the peaceful sunlight shines,<BR> +Where wild birds sing and ferns unfold,<BR> +When spring comes back in her green and gold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And when that mortal likeness<BR> +Has been dissolved by fire,<BR> +Say not above the ashes,<BR> +"Here ends a man's desire."<BR> +For every year when the bluebirds sing,<BR> +He shall be part of the lyric spring.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then dreamful-hearted lovers<BR> +Shall hear in wind and rain<BR> +The cadence of his music,<BR> +The rhythm of his refrain,<BR> +For he was a blade of the April sod<BR> +That bowed and blew with the whisper of God.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="dust"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Dust of the Street<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +This cosmic dust beneath our feet<BR> +Rising to hurry down the street,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Borne by the wind and blown astray<BR> +In its erratic, senseless way,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Is the same stuff as you and I—<BR> +With knowledge and desire put by.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thousands of times since time began<BR> +It has been used for making man,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Freighted like us with every sense<BR> +Of spirit and intelligence,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To walk the world and know the fine<BR> +Large consciousness of things divine.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +These wandering atoms in their day<BR> +Perhaps have passed this very way,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With eager step and flowerlike face,<BR> +With lovely ardor, poise, and grace,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +On what delightful errands bent,<BR> +Passionate, generous, and intent,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +An angel still, though veiled and gloved,<BR> +Made to love us and to be loved.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Friends, when the summons comes for me<BR> +To turn my back (reluctantly)<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +On this delightful play, I claim<BR> +Only one thing in friendship's name;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And you will not decline a task<BR> +So slight, when it is all I ask:<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Scatter my ashes in the street<BR> +Where avenue and crossway meet.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I beg you of your charity,<BR> +No granite and cement for me,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To needlessly perpetuate<BR> +An unimportant name and date.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Others may wish to lay them down<BR> +On some fair hillside far from town,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Where slim white birches wave and gleam<BR> +Beside a shadowy woodland stream,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Or in luxurious beds of fern,<BR> +But I would have my dust return<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To the one place it loved the best<BR> +In days when it was happiest.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="lady"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +To a Young Lady on Her Birthday<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The marching years go by<BR> +And brush your garment's hem.<BR> +The bandits by and by<BR> +Will bid you go with them.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Trust not that caravan!<BR> +Old vagabonds are they;<BR> +They'll rob you if they can,<BR> +And make believe it's play.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Make the old robbers give<BR> +Of all the spoils they bear,—<BR> +Their truth, to help you live,—<BR> +Their joy, to keep you fair.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ask not for gauds nor gold,<BR> +Nor fame that falsely rings;<BR> +The foolish world grows old<BR> +Caring for all these things.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Make all your sweet demands<BR> +For happiness alone,<BR> +And the years will fill your hands<BR> +With treasures rarely known.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="gift"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Gift +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I said to Life, "How comes it,<BR> +With all this wealth in store,<BR> +Of beauty, joy, and knowledge,<BR> +Thy cry is still for more?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Count all the years of striving<BR> +To make thy burden less,—<BR> +The things designed and fashioned<BR> +To gladden thy success!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"The treasures sought and gathered<BR> +Thy lightest whim to please,—<BR> +The loot of all the ages,<BR> +The spoil of all the seas!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Is there no end of labor,<BR> +No limit to thy need?<BR> +Must man go bowed forever<BR> +In bondage to thy greed?"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With tears of pride and passion<BR> +She answered, "God above!<BR> +I only wait the asking,<BR> +To spend it all for love!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="hillborn"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Cry of the Hillborn<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I am homesick for the mountains—<BR> +My heroic mother hills—<BR> +And the longing that is on me<BR> +No solace ever stills.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I would climb to brooding summits<BR> +With their old untarnished dreams,<BR> +Cool my heart in forest shadows<BR> +To the lull of falling streams;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Hear the innocence of aspens<BR> +That babble in the breeze,<BR> +And the fragrant sudden showers<BR> +That patter on the trees.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I am lonely for my thrushes<BR> +In their hermitage withdrawn,<BR> +Toning the quiet transports<BR> +Of twilight and of dawn.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I need the pure, strong mornings,<BR> +When the soul of day is still,<BR> +With the touch of frost that kindles<BR> +The scarlet on the hill;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lone trails and winding woodroads<BR> +To outlooks wild and high,<BR> +And the pale moon waiting sundown<BR> +Where ledges cut the sky.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I dream of upland clearings<BR> +Where cones of sumac burn,<BR> +And gaunt and gray-mossed boulders<BR> +Lie deep in beds of fern;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The gray and mottled beeches,<BR> +The birches' satin sheen,<BR> +The majesty of hemlocks<BR> +Crowning the blue ravine.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +My eyes dim for the skyline<BR> +Where purple peaks aspire,<BR> +And the forges of the sunset<BR> +Flare up in golden fire.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There crests look down unheeding<BR> +And see the great winds blow,<BR> +Tossing the huddled tree-tops<BR> +In gorges far below;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Where cloud-mists from the warm earth<BR> +Roll up about their knees,<BR> +And hang their filmy tatters<BR> +Like prayers upon the trees.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I cry for night-blue shadows<BR> +On plain and hill and dome,—<BR> +The spell of old enchantments,<BR> +The sorcery of home.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="mountain"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Mountain Gateway<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I know a vale where I would go one day,<BR> +When June comes back and all the world once more<BR> +Is glad with summer. Deep in shade it lies<BR> +A mighty cleft between the bosoming hills,<BR> +A cool dim gateway to the mountains' heart.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +On either side the wooded slopes come down,<BR> +Hemlock and beech and chestnut. Here and there<BR> +Through the deep forest laurel spreads and gleams,<BR> +Pink-white as Daphne in her loveliness.<BR> +Among the sunlit shadows I can see<BR> +That still perfection from the world withdrawn,<BR> +As if the wood-gods had arrested there<BR> +Immortal beauty in her breathless flight.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The road winds in from the broad river-lands,<BR> +Luring the happy traveller turn by turn<BR> +Up to the lofty mountains of the sky.<BR> +And as he marches with uplifted face,<BR> +Far overhead against the arching blue<BR> +Gray ledges overhang from dizzy heights,<BR> +Scarred by a thousand winters and untamed.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And where the road runs in the valley's foot,<BR> +Through the dark woods a mountain stream comes down,<BR> +Singing and dancing all its youth away<BR> +Among the boulders and the shallow runs,<BR> +Where sunbeams pierce and mossy tree trunks hang<BR> +Drenched all day long with murmuring sound and spray.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There light of heart and footfree, I would go<BR> +Up to my home among the lasting hills.<BR> +Nearing the day's end, I would leave the road,<BR> +Turn to the left and take the steeper trail<BR> +That climbs among the hemlocks, and at last<BR> +In my own cabin doorway sit me down,<BR> +Companioned in that leafy solitude<BR> +By the wood ghosts of twilight and of peace,<BR> +While evening passes to absolve the day<BR> +And leave the tranquil mountains to the stars.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And in that sweet seclusion I should hear,<BR> +Among the cool-leafed beeches in the dusk,<BR> +The calm-voiced thrushes at their twilight hymn.<BR> +So undistraught, so rapturous, so pure,<BR> +They well might be, in wisdom and in joy,<BR> +The seraphs singing at the birth of time<BR> +The unworn ritual of eternal things.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="morning"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Morning in the Hills<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +How quiet is the morning in the hills!<BR> +The stealthy shadows of the summer clouds<BR> +Trail through the cañon, and the mountain stream<BR> +Sounds his sonorous music far below<BR> +In the deep-wooded wind-enchanted cove.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Hemlock and aspen, chestnut, beech, and fir<BR> +Go tiering down from storm-worn crest and ledge,<BR> +While in the hollows of the dark ravine<BR> +See the red road emerge, then disappear<BR> +Towards the wide plain and fertile valley lands.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +My forest cabin half-way up the glen<BR> +Is solitary, save for one wise thrush,<BR> +The sound of falling water, and the wind<BR> +Mysteriously conversing with the leaves.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here I abide unvisited by doubt,<BR> +Dreaming of far-off turmoil and despair,<BR> +The race of men and love and fleeting time,<BR> +What life may be, or beauty, caught and held<BR> +For a brief moment at eternal poise.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What impulse now shall quicken and make live<BR> +This outward semblance and this inward self?<BR> +One breath of being fills the bubble world,<BR> +Colored and frail, with fleeting change on change.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Surely some God contrived so fair a thing<BR> +In a vast leisure of uncounted days,<BR> +And touched it with the breath of living joy,<BR> +Wondrous and fair and wise! It must be so.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="woodpath"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Wood-path<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +At evening and at morning<BR> +By an enchanted way<BR> +I walk the world in wonder,<BR> +And have no word to say.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It is the path we traversed<BR> +One twilight, thou and I;<BR> +Thy beauty all a rapture,<BR> +My spirit all a cry.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The red leaves fall upon it,<BR> +The moon and mist and rain,<BR> +But not the magic footfall<BR> +That made its meaning plain.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="weather"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Weather of the Soul<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There is a world of being<BR> +We range from pole to pole,<BR> +Through seasons of the spirit<BR> +And weather of the soul.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It has its new-born Aprils,<BR> +With gladness in the air,<BR> +Its golden Junes of rapture,<BR> +Its winters of despair.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And in its tranquil autumns<BR> +We halt to re-enforce<BR> +Our tattered scarlet pennons<BR> +With valor and resource.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +From undiscovered regions<BR> +Only the angels know,<BR> +Great winds of aspiration<BR> +Perpetually blow,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To free the sap of impulse<BR> +From torpor of distrust,<BR> +And into flowers of joyance<BR> +Quicken the sentient dust.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +From nowhere of a sudden<BR> +Loom sudden clouds of fault,<BR> +With thunders of oppression<BR> +And lightnings of revolt.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With hush of apprehension<BR> +And quaking of the heart,<BR> +There breed the storms of anger,<BR> +And floods of sorrow start.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And there shall fall,—how gently!—<BR> +To make them fertile yet,<BR> +The rain of absolution<BR> +On acres of regret.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Till snows of mercy cover<BR> +The dream that shall come true,<BR> +When time makes all things wondrous,<BR> +And life makes all things new.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="here"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Here and Now<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Where is Heaven? Is it not<BR> +Just a friendly garden plot,<BR> +Walled with stone and roofed with sun,<BR> +Where the days pass one by one,<BR> +Not too fast and not too slow,<BR> +Looking backward as they go<BR> +At the beauties left behind<BR> +To transport the pensive mind!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Is it not a greening ground<BR> +With a river for its bound,<BR> +And a wood-thrush to prolong<BR> +Fragrant twilights with his song,<BR> +When the peonies in June<BR> +Wait the rising of the moon,<BR> +And the music of the stream<BR> +Voices its immortal dream!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There each morning will renew<BR> +The miracle of light and dew,<BR> +And the soul may joy to praise<BR> +The Lord of roses and of days;<BR> +There the caravan of noon<BR> +Halts to hear the cricket's tune,<BR> +Fifing there for all who pass<BR> +The anthem of the summer grass!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Does not Heaven begin that day<BR> +When the eager heart can say,<BR> +Surely God is in this place,<BR> +I have seen Him face to face<BR> +In the loveliness of flowers,<BR> +In the service of the showers,<BR> +And His voice has talked to me<BR> +In the sunlit apple tree.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I can feel Him in my heart,<BR> +When the tears of knowledge start<BR> +For another's joy or woe,<BR> +Where the lonely soul must go.<BR> +Yea, I learned His very look,<BR> +When we walked beside the brook,<BR> +And you smiled and touched my hand.<BR> +God is love... I understand.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="angel"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Angel of Joy<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There is no grief for me<BR> +Nor sadness any more;<BR> +For since I first knew thee<BR> +Great Joy has kept my door.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +That angel of the calm<BR> +All-comprehending smile,<BR> +No menace can dismay,<BR> +No falsity beguile.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Out of the house of life<BR> +Before him fled away<BR> +Languor, regret, and strife<BR> +And sorrow on that day.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Grim fear, unmanly doubt,<BR> +And impotent despair<BR> +Went at his bidding forth<BR> +Among the things that were,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Leaving a place all clean,<BR> +Resounding of the sea<BR> +And decked with forest green,<BR> +To be a home for thee.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="homestead"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Homestead.<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here we came when love was young.<BR> +Now that love is old,<BR> +Shall we leave the floor unswept<BR> +And the hearth acold?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here the hill-wind in the dusk.<BR> +Wandering to and fro,<BR> +Moves the moonflowers, like a ghost<BR> +Of the long ago.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here from every doorway looks<BR> +A remembered face,<BR> +Every sill and panel wears<BR> +A familiar grace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Let the windows smile again<BR> +To the morning light,<BR> +And the door stand open wide<BR> +When the moon is bright.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Let the breeze of twilight blow<BR> +Through the silent hall,<BR> +And the dreaming rafters hear<BR> +How the thrushes call.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Oh, be merciful and fond<BR> +To the house that gave<BR> +All its best to shelter love,<BR> +Built when love was brave!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here we came when love was young,<BR> +Now that love is old,<BR> +Never let its day be lone,<BR> +Nor its heart acold!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="whispers"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"The Starry Midnight Whispers"<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The starry midnight whispers,<BR> +As I muse before the fire<BR> +On the ashes of ambition<BR> +And the embers of desire,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Life has no other logic,<BR> +And time no other creed,<BR> +Than: 'I for joy will follow.<BR> +Where thou for love dost lead!'"<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="lyric"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Lyric<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Oh, once I could not understand<BR> +The sob within the throat of spring,—<BR> +The shrilling of the frogs, nor why<BR> +The birds so passionately sing.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +That was before your beauty came<BR> +And stooped to teach my soul desire,<BR> +When on these mortal lips you laid<BR> +The magic and immortal fire.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I wondered why the sea should seem<BR> +So gray, so lonely, and so old;<BR> +The sigh of level-driving snows<BR> +In winter so forlornly cold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I wondered what it was could give<BR> +The scarlet autumn pomps their pride.<BR> +And paint with colors not of earth<BR> +The glory of the mountainside.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I could not tell why youth should dream<BR> +And worship at the evening star,<BR> +And yet must go with eager feet<BR> +Where danger and where splendor are.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I could not guess why men at times,<BR> +Beholding beauty, should go mad<BR> +With joy or sorrow or despair<BR> +Or some unknown delight they had.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I wondered what they had received<BR> +From Time's inexorable hand<BR> +So full of loveliness and doom.<BR> +But now, ah, now I understand!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="april"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"April now in Morning Clad"<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +April now in morning clad<BR> +Like a gleaming oread,<BR> +With the south wind in her voice,<BR> +Comes to bid the world rejoice.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With the sunlight on her brow,<BR> +Through her veil of silver showers,<BR> +April o'er New England now<BR> +Trails her robe of woodland flowers,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Violet and anemone;<BR> +While along the misty sea,<BR> +Pipe at lip, she seems to blow<BR> +Haunting airs of long ago.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="nike"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Nike<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What do men give thanks for?<BR> +I give thanks for one,<BR> +Lovelier than morning,<BR> +Dearer than the sun.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Such a head the victors<BR> +Must have praised and known,<BR> +With that breast and bearing,<BR> +Nike's very own—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +As superb, untrammeled,<BR> +Rhythmed and poised and free<BR> +As the strong pure sea-wind<BR> +Walking on the sea;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Such a hand as Beauty<BR> +Uses with full heart,<BR> +Seeking for her freedom<BR> +In new shapes of art;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Soft as rain in April,<BR> +Quiet as the days<BR> +Of the purple asters<BR> +And the autumn haze;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With a soul more subtle<BR> +Than the light of stars,<BR> +Frailer than a moth's wing<BR> +To the touch that mars;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Wise with all the silence<BR> +Of the waiting hills,<BR> +When the gracious twilight<BR> +Wakes in them and thrills;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With a voice more tender<BR> +Than the early moon<BR> +Hears among the thrushes<BR> +In the woods of June;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Delicate as grasses<BR> +When they lift and stir—<BR> +One sweet lyric woman—<BR> +I give thanks for her.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="traveller"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Enchanted Traveller<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We travelled empty-handed<BR> +With hearts all fear above,<BR> +For we ate the bread of friendship,<BR> +We drank the wine of love.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Through many a wondrous autumn,<BR> +Through many a magic spring,<BR> +We hailed the scarlet banners,<BR> +We heard the blue-bird sing.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We looked on life and nature<BR> +With the eager eyes of youth,<BR> +And all we asked or cared for<BR> +Was beauty, joy, and truth.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We found no other wisdom,<BR> +We learned no other way,<BR> +Than the gladness of the morning,<BR> +The glory of the day.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So all our earthly treasure<BR> +Shall go with us, my dears,<BR> +Aboard the Shadow Liner,<BR> +Across the sea of years.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="saraband"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Spring's Saraband<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Over the hills of April<BR> +With soft winds hand in hand,<BR> +Impassionate and dreamy-eyed,<BR> +Spring leads her saraband.<BR> +Her garments float and gather<BR> +And swirl along the plain,<BR> +Her headgear is the golden sun,<BR> +Her cloak the silver rain.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With color and with music,<BR> +With perfumes and with pomp,<BR> +By meadowland and upland,<BR> +Through pasture, wood, and swamp,<BR> +With promise and enchantment<BR> +Leading her mystic mime,<BR> +She comes to lure the world anew<BR> +With joy as old as time.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Quick lifts the marshy chorus<BR> +To transport, trill on trill;<BR> +There's not a rod of stony ground<BR> +Unanswering on the hill.<BR> +The brooks and little rivers<BR> +Dance down their wild ravines,<BR> +And children in the city squares<BR> +Keep time, to tambourines.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The bluebird in the orchard<BR> +Is lyrical for her,<BR> +The blackbird with his meadow pipe<BR> +Sets all the wood astir,<BR> +The hooded white spring-beauties<BR> +Are curtsying in the breeze,<BR> +The blue hepaticas are out<BR> +Under the chestnut trees.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The maple buds make glamor,<BR> +Viburnum waves its bloom,<BR> +The daffodils and tulips<BR> +Are risen from the tomb.<BR> +The lances of Narcissus<BR> +Have pierced the wintry mold;<BR> +The commonplace seems paradise<BR> +Through veils of greening gold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O heart, hear thou the summons,<BR> +Put every grief away,<BR> +When all the motley masques of earth<BR> +Are glad upon a day.<BR> +Alack, that any mortal<BR> +Should less than gladness bring<BR> +Into the choral joy that sounds<BR> +The saraband of spring!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="triumphalis"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Triumphalis<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Soul, art thou sad again<BR> +With the old sadness?<BR> +Thou shalt be glad again<BR> +With a new gladness,<BR> +When April sun and rain<BR> +Mount to the teeming brain<BR> +With the earth madness.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When from the mould again,<BR> +Spurning disaster,<BR> +Spring shoots unfold again,<BR> +Follow thou faster<BR> +Out of the drear domain<BR> +Of dark, defeat, and pain,<BR> +Praising the Master.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Hope for thy guide again,<BR> +Ample and splendid;<BR> +Love at thy side again,<BR> +All doubting ended;<BR> +(Ah, by the dragon slain,<BR> +For nothing small or vain<BR> +Michael contended!)<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thou shalt take heart again,<BR> +No more despairing;<BR> +Play thy great part again,<BR> +Loving and caring.<BR> +Hark, how the gold refrain<BR> +Runs through the iron strain,<BR> +Splendidly daring!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thou shalt grow strong again,<BR> +Confident, tender,—<BR> +Battle with wrong again,<BR> +Be truth's defender,—<BR> +Of the immortal train,<BR> +Born to attempt, attain,<BR> +Never surrender!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="twilights"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"Now the Lengthening Twilights Hold"<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the lengthening twilights hold<BR> +Tints of lavender and gold,<BR> +And the marshy places ring<BR> +With the pipers of the spring.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the solitary star<BR> +Lays a path on meadow streams,<BR> +And I know it is not far<BR> +To the open door of dreams.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lord of April, in my hour<BR> +May the dogwood be in flower,<BR> +And my angel through the dome<BR> +Of spring twilight lead me home.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="soul"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Soul of April<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Over the wintry threshold<BR> +Who comes with joy to-day,<BR> +So frail, yet so enduring,<BR> +To triumph o'er dismay?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ah, quick her tears are springing,<BR> +And quickly they are dried,<BR> +For sorrow walks before her,<BR> +But gladness walks beside.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +She comes with gusts of laughter,—<BR> +The music as of rills;<BR> +With tenderness and sweetness,—<BR> +The wisdom of the hills.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Her hands are strong to comfort,<BR> +Her heart is quick to heed.<BR> +She knows the signs of sadness,<BR> +She knows the voice of need.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There is no living creature,<BR> +However poor or small,<BR> +But she will know its trouble,<BR> +And hasten to its call.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Oh, well they fare forever,<BR> +By mighty dreams possessed,<BR> +Whose hearts have lain a moment<BR> +On that eternal breast.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="aprilmorning"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +An April Morning<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Once more in misted April<BR> +The world is growing green.<BR> +Along the winding river<BR> +The plumey willows lean.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Beyond the sweeping meadows<BR> +The looming mountains rise,<BR> +Like battlements of dreamland<BR> +Against the brooding skies.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In every wooded valley<BR> +The buds are breaking through,<BR> +As though the heart of all things<BR> +No languor ever knew.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The golden-wings and bluebirds<BR> +Call to their heavenly choirs.<BR> +The pines are blued and drifted<BR> +With smoke of brushwood fires.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And in my sister's garden<BR> +Where little breezes run,<BR> +The golden daffodillies<BR> +Are blowing in the sun.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="voices"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Earth Voices<BR> +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I heard the spring wind whisper<BR> +Above the brushwood fire,<BR> +"The world is made forever<BR> +Of transport and desire.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I am the breath of being,<BR> +The primal urge of things;<BR> +I am the whirl of star dust,<BR> +I am the lift of wings.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I am the splendid impulse<BR> +That comes before the thought,<BR> +The joy and exaltation<BR> +Wherein the life is caught.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Across the sleeping furrows<BR> +I call the buried seed,<BR> +And blade and bud and blossom<BR> +Awaken at my need.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Within the dying ashes<BR> +I blow the sacred spark,<BR> +And make the hearts of lovers<BR> +To leap against the dark."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I heard the spring light whisper<BR> +Above the dancing stream,<BR> +"The world is made forever<BR> +In likeness of a dream.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I am the law of planets,<BR> +I am the guide of man;<BR> +The evening and the morning<BR> +Are fashioned to my plan.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I tint the dawn with crimson,<BR> +I tinge the sea with blue;<BR> +My track is in the desert,<BR> +My trail is in the dew.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I paint the hills with color,<BR> +And in my magic dome<BR> +I light the star of evening<BR> +To steer the traveller home.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Within the house of being,<BR> +I feed the lamp of truth<BR> +With tales of ancient wisdom<BR> +And prophecies of youth."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +III<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I heard the spring rain murmur<BR> +Above the roadside flower,<BR> +"The world is made forever<BR> +In melody and power.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I keep the rhythmic measure<BR> +That marks the steps of time,<BR> +And all my toil is fashioned<BR> +To symmetry and rhyme.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I plow the untilled upland,<BR> +I ripe the seeding grass,<BR> +And fill the leafy forest<BR> +With music as I pass.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I hew the raw, rough granite<BR> +To loveliness of line,<BR> +And when my work is finished,<BR> +Behold, it is divine!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"I am the master-builder<BR> +In whom the ages trust.<BR> +I lift the lost perfection<BR> +To blossom from the dust."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +IV<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then Earth to them made answer,<BR> +As with a slow refrain<BR> +Born of the blended voices<BR> +Of wind and sun and rain,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"This is the law of being<BR> +That links the threefold chain:<BR> +The life we give to beauty<BR> +Returns to us again."<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="resurgam"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Resurgam +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lo, now comes the April pageant<BR> +And the Easter of the year.<BR> +Now the tulip lifts her chalice,<BR> +And the hyacinth his spear;<BR> +All the daffodils and jonquils<BR> +With their hearts of gold are here.<BR> +Child of the immortal vision,<BR> +What hast thou to do with fear?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the summons wakes the impulse,<BR> +And the blood beats in the vein,<BR> +Let no grief thy dream encumber,<BR> +No regret thy thought detain.<BR> +Through the scented bloom-hung valleys,<BR> +Over tillage, wood and plain,<BR> +Comes the soothing south wind laden<BR> +With the sweet impartial rain.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All along the roofs and pavements<BR> +Pass the volleying silver showers,<BR> +To unfold the hearts of humans<BR> +And the frail unanxious flowers.<BR> +Breeding fast in sunlit places,<BR> +Teeming life puts forth her powers,<BR> +And the migrant wings come northward<BR> +On the trail of golden hours.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Over intervale and upland<BR> +Sounds the robin's interlude<BR> +From his tree-top spire at evening<BR> +Where no unbeliefs intrude.<BR> +Every follower of beauty<BR> +Finds in the spring solitude<BR> +Sanctuary and persuasion<BR> +Where the mysteries still brood.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the bluebird in the orchard,<BR> +A warm sighing at the door,<BR> +And the soft haze on the hillside,<BR> +Lure the houseling to explore<BR> +The perennial enchanted<BR> +Lovely world and all its lore;<BR> +While the early tender twilight<BR> +Breathes of those who come no more.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +By full brimming river margins<BR> +Where the scents of brush fires blow,<BR> +Through the faint green mist of springtime,<BR> +Dreaming glad-eyed lovers go,<BR> +Touched with such immortal madness<BR> +Not a thing they care to know<BR> +More than those who caught life's secret<BR> +Countless centuries ago.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In old Egypt for Osiris,<BR> +Putting on the green attire,<BR> +With soft hymns and choric dancing<BR> +They went forth to greet the fire<BR> +Of the vernal sun, whose ardor<BR> +His earth children could inspire;<BR> +And the ivory flutes would lead them<BR> +To the slake of their desire.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In remembrance of Adonis<BR> +Did the Dorian maidens sing<BR> +Linus songs of joy and sorrow<BR> +For the coming back of spring,—<BR> +Sorrow for the wintry death<BR> +Of each irrevocable thing,<BR> +Joy for all the pangs of beauty<BR> +The returning year could bring.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the priests and holy women<BR> +With sweet incense, chant and prayer,<BR> +Keep His death and resurrection<BR> +Whose new love bade all men share<BR> +Immortality of kindness,<BR> +Living to make life more fair.<BR> +Wakened to such wealth of being,<BR> +Who would not arise and dare?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Seeing how each new fulfilment<BR> +Issues at the call of need<BR> +From infinitudes of purpose<BR> +In the core of soul and seed,<BR> +Who shall set the bounds of puissance<BR> +Or the formulas of creed?<BR> +Truth awaits the test of beauty,<BR> +Good is proven in the deed.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Therefore, give thy spring renascence,—<BR> +Freshened ardor, dreams and mirth,—<BR> +To make perfect and replenish<BR> +All the sorry fault and dearth<BR> +Of the life from whose enrichment<BR> +Thine aspiring will had birth;<BR> +Take thy part in the redemption<BR> +Of thy kind from bonds of earth.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So shalt thou, absorbed in beauty,<BR> +Even in this mortal clime<BR> +Share the life that is eternal,<BR> +Brother to the lords of time,—<BR> +Virgil, Raphael, Gautama,—<BR> +Builders of the world sublime.<BR> +Yesterday was not earth's evening<BR> +Every morning is our prime.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All that can be worth the rescue<BR> +From oblivion and decay,—<BR> +Joy and loveliness and wisdom,—<BR> +In thyself, without dismay<BR> +Thou shalt save and make enduring<BR> +Through each word and act, to sway<BR> +The hereafter to a likeness<BR> +Of thyself in other clay.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Still remains the peradventure,<BR> +Soul pursues an orbit here<BR> +Like those unreturning comets,<BR> +Sweeping on a vast career,<BR> +By an infinite directrix,<BR> +Focussed to a finite sphere,—<BR> +Nurtured in an earthly April,<BR> +In what realm to reappear?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="easter"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Easter Eve<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +If I should tell you I saw Pan lately down by the shallows<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of Silvermine,</SPAN><BR> +Blowing an air on his pipe of willow, just as the moon began<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">to shine;</SPAN><BR> +Or say that, coming from town on Wednesday, I met Christ walking<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">in Ponus Street;</SPAN><BR> +You might remark, "Our friend is flighty! Visions, for want of<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">enough red meat!"</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then let me ask you. Last December, when there was skating<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">on Wampanaw,</SPAN><BR> +Among the weeds and sticks and grasses under the hard black<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">ice I saw</SPAN><BR> +An old mud-turtle poking about, as if he were putting his house<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">to rights,</SPAN><BR> +Stiff with the cold perhaps, yet knowing enough to prepare<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">for the winter nights.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And here he is on a log this morning, sunning himself as calm<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">as you please.</SPAN><BR> +But I want to know, when the lock of winter was sprung of a sudden,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">who kept the keys?</SPAN><BR> +Who told old nibbler to go to sleep safe and sound with the<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">lily roots,</SPAN><BR> +And then in the first warm days of April—out to the sun<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">with the greening shoots?</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +By night a flock of geese went over, honking north on the trails<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of air,</SPAN><BR> +The spring express—but who despatched it, equipped with speed<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">and cunning care?</SPAN><BR> +Hark to our bluebird down in the orchard trolling his chant<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of the happy heart,</SPAN><BR> +As full of light as a theme of Mozart's—but where did he learn<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">that more than art?</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Where the river winds through grassy meadows, as sure as the<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">south wind brings the rain,</SPAN><BR> +Sounding his reedy note in the alders, the redwing comes back<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">to his nest again.</SPAN><BR> +Are these not miracles? Prompt you answer: "Merely the prose<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of natural fact;</SPAN><BR> +Nothing but instinct plain and patent, born in the creatures,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">that bids them act."</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Well, I have an instinct as fine and valid, surely, as that<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of the beasts and birds,</SPAN><BR> +Concerning death and the life immortal, too deep for logic,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">too vague for words.</SPAN><BR> +No trace of beauty can pass or perish, but other beauty<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">is somewhere born;</SPAN><BR> +No seed of truth or good be planted, but the yield must grow<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">as the growing corn.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Therefore this ardent mind and spirit I give to the glowing days<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of earth.</SPAN><BR> +To be wrought by the Lord of life to something of lasting import<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">and lovely worth.</SPAN><BR> +If the toil I give be without self-seeking, bestowed to the limit<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">of will and power,</SPAN><BR> +To fashion after some form ideal the instant task and the<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">waiting hour,</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It matters not though defeat undo me, though faults betray me<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">and sorrows scar,</SPAN><BR> +Already I share the life eternal with the April buds and the<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">evening star.</SPAN><BR> +The slim new moon is my sister now; the rain, my brother; the<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">wind, my friend.</SPAN><BR> +Is it not well with these forever? Can the soul of man fare<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">ill in the end?</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="time"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Now is the Time of Year<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now is the time of year<BR> +When all the flutes begin,—<BR> +The redwing bold and clear,<BR> +The rainbird far and thin.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In all the waking lands<BR> +There's not a wilding thing<BR> +But knows and understands<BR> +The burden of the spring.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now every voice alive<BR> +By rocky wood and stream<BR> +Is lifted to revive<BR> +The ecstasy, the dream.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For Nature, never old,<BR> +But busy as of yore,<BR> +From sun and rain and mould<BR> +Is making spring once more.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +She sounds her magic note<BR> +By river-marge and hill,<BR> +And every woodland throat<BR> +Re-echoes with a thrill.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O mother of our days,<BR> +Hearing thy music call.<BR> +Teach us to know thy ways<BR> +And fear no more at all!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="redwing"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Redwing<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I hear you, Brother, I hear you,<BR> +Down in the alder swamp,<BR> +Springing your woodland whistle<BR> +To herald the April pomp!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +First of the moving vanguard,<BR> +In front of the spring you come,<BR> +Where flooded waters sparkle<BR> +And streams in the twilight hum.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +You sound the note of the chorus<BR> +By meadow and woodland pond,<BR> +Till, one after one up-piping,<BR> +A myriad throats respond.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I see you, Brother, I see you,<BR> +With scarlet under your wing,<BR> +Flash through the ruddy maples,<BR> +Leading the pageant of spring.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Earth has put off her raiment<BR> +Wintry and worn and old,<BR> +For the robe of a fair young sibyl.<BR> +Dancing in green and gold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I heed you, Brother. To-morrow<BR> +I, too, in the great employ,<BR> +Will shed my old coat of sorrow<BR> +For a brand-new garment of joy.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="rainbird"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Rainbird<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I hear a rainbird singing<BR> +Far off. How fine and clear<BR> +His plaintive voice comes ringing<BR> +With rapture to the ear!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Over the misty wood-lots,<BR> +Across the first spring heat,<BR> +Comes the enchanted cadence,<BR> +So clear, so solemn-sweet.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +How often I have hearkened<BR> +To that high pealing strain<BR> +Across wild cedar barrens,<BR> +Under the soft gray rain!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +How often I have wondered,<BR> +And longed in vain to know<BR> +The source of that enchantment,<BR> +That touch of human woe!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O brother, who first taught thee<BR> +To haunt the teeming spring<BR> +With that sad mortal wisdom<BR> +Which only age can bring?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="lament"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Lament<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When you hear the white-throat pealing<BR> +From a tree-top far away,<BR> +And the hills are touched with purple<BR> +At the borders of the day;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the redwing sounds his whistle<BR> +At the coming on of spring,<BR> +And the joyous April pipers<BR> +Make the alder marshes ring;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the wild new breath of being<BR> +Whispers to the world once more,<BR> +And before the shrine of beauty<BR> +Every spirit must adore;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When long thoughts come back with twilight,<BR> +And a tender deepened mood<BR> +Shows the eyes of the beloved<BR> +Like the hepaticas in the wood;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ah, remember, when to nothing<BR> +Save to love your heart gives heed,<BR> +And spring takes you to her bosom,—<BR> +So it was with Golden Weed!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="moon"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Under the April Moon<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Oh, well the world is dreaming<BR> +Under the April moon,<BR> +Her soul in love with beauty,<BR> +Her senses all a-swoon!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Pure hangs the silver crescent<BR> +Above the twilight wood,<BR> +And pure the silver music<BR> +Wakes from the marshy flood.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O Earth, with all thy transport,<BR> +How comes it life should seem<BR> +A shadow in the moonlight,<BR> +A murmur in a dream?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="flute"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Flute of Spring<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I know a shining meadow stream<BR> +That winds beneath an Eastern hill,<BR> +And all year long in sun or gloom<BR> +Its murmuring voice is never still.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The summer dies more gently there,<BR> +The April flowers are earlier,—<BR> +The first warm rain-wind from the Sound<BR> +Sets all their eager hearts astir.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And there when lengthening twilights fall<BR> +As softly as a wild bird's wing,<BR> +Across the valley in the dusk<BR> +I hear the silver flute of spring.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="spring"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Spring Night<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the wondrous star-sown night,<BR> +In the first sweet warmth of spring,<BR> +I lie awake and listen<BR> +To hear the glad earth sing.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I hear the brook in the wood<BR> +Murmuring, as it goes,<BR> +The song of the happy journey<BR> +Only the wise heart knows.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I hear the trilling note<BR> +Of the tree-frog under the hill,<BR> +And the clear and watery treble<BR> +Of his brother, silvery shrill.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And then I wander away<BR> +Through the mighty forest of Sleep,<BR> +To follow the fairy music<BR> +To the shore of an endless deep.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="bloodroot"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Bloodroot<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When April winds arrive<BR> +And the soft rains are here,<BR> +Some morning by the roadside<BR> +These Fairy folk appear.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We never see their coming,<BR> +However sharp our eyes;<BR> +Each year as if by magic<BR> +They take us by surprise.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Along the ragged woodside<BR> +And by the green spring-run,<BR> +Their small white heads are nodding<BR> +And twinkling in the sun.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They crowd across the meadow<BR> +In innocence and mirth,<BR> +As if there were no sorrow<BR> +In all this wondrous earth.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So frail, so unregarded,<BR> +And yet about them clings<BR> +A sorcery of welcome,—<BR> +The joy of common things.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Perhaps their trail of beauty<BR> +Across the pasture sod<BR> +In jubilant procession<BR> +Is where an angel trod.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="daffodil"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Daffodil's Return<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What matter if the sun be lost?<BR> +What matter though the sky be gray?<BR> +There's joy enough about the house,<BR> +For Daffodil comes home to-day.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There's news of swallows on the air,<BR> +There's word of April on the way,<BR> +They're calling flowers within the street,<BR> +And Daffodil comes home to-day.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O who would care what fate may bring,<BR> +Or what the years may take away!<BR> +There's life enough within the hour,<BR> +For Daffodil comes home to-day.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="lilac"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Now the Lilac Tree's in Bud<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the lilac tree's in bud,<BR> +And the morning birds are loud.<BR> +Now a stirring in the blood<BR> +Moves the heart of every crowd.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Word has gone abroad somewhere<BR> +Of a great impending change.<BR> +There's a message in the air<BR> +Of an import glad and strange.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Not an idler in the street,<BR> +But is better off to-day.<BR> +Not a traveller you meet,<BR> +But has something wise to say.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now there's not a road too long,<BR> +Not a day that is not good,<BR> +Not a mile but hears a song<BR> +Lifted from the misty wood.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Down along the Silvermine<BR> +That's the blackbird's cheerful note!<BR> +You can see him flash and shine<BR> +With the scarlet on his coat.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the winds are soft with rain,<BR> +And the twilight has a spell,<BR> +Who from gladness could refrain<BR> +Or with olden sorrows dwell?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="iris"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +White Iris<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +White Iris was a princess<BR> +In a kingdom long ago,<BR> +Mysterious as moonlight<BR> +And silent as the snow.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +She drew the world in wonder<BR> +And swayed it with desire,<BR> +Ere Babylon was builded<BR> +Or a stone laid in Tyre.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Yet here within my garden<BR> +Her loveliness appears,<BR> +Undimmed by any sorrow<BR> +Of all the tragic years.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +How kind that earth should treasure<BR> +So beautiful a thing—<BR> +All mystical enchantment,<BR> +To stir our hearts in spring!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="tree"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Tree of Heaven<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Young foreign-born Ailanthus,<BR> +Because he grew so fast,<BR> +We scorned his easy daring<BR> +And doubted it would last.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But lo, when autumn gathers<BR> +And all the woods are old,<BR> +He stands in green and salmon,<BR> +A glory to behold!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Among the ancient monarchs<BR> +His airy tent is spread.<BR> +His robe of coronation<BR> +Is tasseled rosy red.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With something strange and Eastern,<BR> +His height and grace proclaim<BR> +His lineage and title<BR> +Is that celestial name.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +This is the Tree of Heaven,<BR> +Which seems to say to us,<BR> +"Behold how rife is beauty,<BR> +And how victorious!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="peony"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Peony +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"<I>Pionia virtutem habet occultam.</I>"<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Arnoldus Villanova—1235-1313.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Arnoldus Villanova<BR> +Six hundred years ago<BR> +Said Peonies have magic,<BR> +And I believe it so.<BR> +There stands his learned dictum<BR> +Which any boy may read,<BR> +But he who learns the secret<BR> +Will be made wise indeed.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Astrologer and doctor<BR> +In the science of his day,<BR> +Have we so far outstripped him?<BR> +What more is there to say?<BR> +His medieval Latin<BR> +Records the truth for us,<BR> +Which I translate—virtutem<BR> +Habet occultam—thus:</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +She hath a deep-hid virtue<BR> +No other flower hath.<BR> +When summer comes rejoicing<BR> +A-down my garden path,<BR> +In opulence of color,<BR> +In robe of satin sheen,<BR> +She casts o'er all the hours<BR> +Her sorcery serene.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A subtile, heartening fragrance<BR> +Comes piercing the warm hush,<BR> +And from the greening woodland<BR> +I hear the first wild thrush.<BR> +They move my heart to pity<BR> +For all the vanished years,<BR> +With ecstasy of longing<BR> +And tenderness of tears.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +By many names we call her,—<BR> +Pale exquisite Aurore,<BR> +Luxuriant Gismonda<BR> +Or sunny Couronne D'Or.<BR> +What matter,—Grandiflora,<BR> +A queen in some proud book,<BR> +Or sweet familiar Piny<BR> +With her old-fashioned look?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The crowding Apple blossoms<BR> +Above the orchard wall;<BR> +The Moonflower in August<BR> +When eerie nights befall;<BR> +Chrysanthemum in autumn,<BR> +Whose pageantries appear<BR> +With mystery and silence<BR> +To deck the dying year;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And many a mystic flower<BR> +Of the wildwood I have known,<BR> +But Pionia Arnoldi<BR> +Hath a transport all her own.<BR> +For Peony, my Peony,<BR> +Hath strength to make me whole,—<BR> +She gives her heart of beauty<BR> +For the healing of my soul.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Arnoldus Villanova,<BR> +Though earth is growing old,<BR> +As long as life has longing<BR> +Your guess at truth will hold.<BR> +Still works the hidden power<BR> +After a thousand springs,—<BR> +The medicine for heartache<BR> +That lurks in lovely things.</I><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="pan"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Urban Pan<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Once more the magic days are come<BR> +With stronger sun and milder air;<BR> +The shops are full of daffodils;<BR> +There's golden leisure everywhere.<BR> +I heard my Lou this morning shout:<BR> +"Here comes the hurdy-gurdy man!"<BR> +And through the open window caught<BR> +The piping of the urban Pan.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I laid my wintry task aside,<BR> +And took a day to follow joy:<BR> +The trail of beauty and the call<BR> +That lured me when I was a boy.<BR> +I looked, and there looked up at me<BR> +A smiling, swarthy, hairy man<BR> +With kindling eye—and well I knew<BR> +The piping of the urban Pan.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He caught my mood; his hat was off;<BR> +I tossed the ungrudged silver down.<BR> +The cunning vagrant, every year<BR> +He casts his spell upon the town!<BR> +And we must fling him, old and young,<BR> +Our dimes or coppers, as we can;<BR> +And every heart must leap to hear<BR> +The piping of the urban Pan.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The music swells and fades again,<BR> +And I in dreams am far away,<BR> +Where a bright river sparkles down<BR> +To meet a blue Aegean bay.<BR> +There, in the springtime of the world,<BR> +Are dancing fauns, and in their van,<BR> +Is one who pipes a deathless tune—<BR> +The earth-born and the urban Pan.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And so he follows down the block,<BR> +A troop of children in his train,<BR> +The light-foot dancers of the street<BR> +Enamored of the reedy strain.<BR> +I hear their laughter rise and ring<BR> +Above the noise of truck and van,<BR> +As down the mellow wind fades out<BR> +The piping of the urban Pan.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="sailing"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Sailing of the Fleets<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the spring is in the town,<BR> +Now the wind is in the tree,<BR> +And the wintered keels go down<BR> +To the calling of the sea.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Out from mooring, dock, and slip,<BR> +Through the harbor buoys they glide,<BR> +Drawing seaward till they dip<BR> +To the swirling of the tide.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +One by one and two by two,<BR> +Down the channel turns they go,<BR> +Steering for the open blue<BR> +Where the salty great airs blow;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Craft of many a build and trim,<BR> +Every stitch of sail unfurled,<BR> +Till they hang upon the rim<BR> +Of the azure ocean world.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who has ever, man or boy,<BR> +Seen the sea all flecked with gold,<BR> +And not longed to go with joy<BR> +Forth upon adventures bold?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who could bear to stay indoor,<BR> +Now the wind is in the street,<BR> +For the creaking of the oar<BR> +And the tugging of the sheet!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the spring is in the town,<BR> +Who would not a rover be,<BR> +When the wintered keels go down<BR> +To the calling of the sea?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="newengland"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +'Tis May now in New England<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +'Tis May now in New England<BR> +And through the open door<BR> +I see the creamy breakers,<BR> +I hear the hollow roar.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Back to the golden marshes<BR> +Comes summer at full tide,<BR> +But not the golden comrade<BR> +Who was the summer's pride.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="earlymay"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +In Early May<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O my dear, the world to-day<BR> +Is more lovely than a dream!<BR> +Magic hints from far away<BR> +Haunt the woodland, and the stream<BR> +Murmurs in his rocky bed<BR> +Things that never can be said.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Starry dogwood is in flower,<BR> +Gleaming through the mystic woods.<BR> +It is beauty's perfect hour<BR> +In the wild spring solitudes.<BR> +Now the orchards in full blow<BR> +Shed their petals white as snow.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All the air is honey-sweet<BR> +With the lilacs white and red,<BR> +Where the blossoming branches meet<BR> +In an arbor overhead.<BR> +And the laden cherry trees<BR> +Murmur with the hum of bees.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All the earth is fairy green,<BR> +And the sunlight filmy gold,<BR> +Full of ecstasies unseen,<BR> +Full of mysteries untold.<BR> +Who would not be out-of-door,<BR> +Now the spring is here once more!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="fireflies"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Fireflies<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The fireflies across the dusk<BR> +Are flashing signals through the gloom—<BR> +Courageous messengers of light<BR> +That dare immensities of doom.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +About the seeding meadow-grass,<BR> +Like busy watchmen in the street,<BR> +They come and go, they turn and pass,<BR> +Lighting the way for Beauty's feet.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Or up they float on viewless wings<BR> +To twinkle high among the trees,<BR> +And rival with soft glimmerings<BR> +The shining of the Pleiades.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The stars that wheel above the hill<BR> +Are not more wonderful to see,<BR> +Nor the great tasks that they fulfill<BR> +More needed in eternity.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="sankoty"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Path to Sankoty<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It winds along the headlands<BR> +Above the open sea—<BR> +The lonely moorland footpath<BR> +That leads to Sankoty.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The crooning sea spreads sailless<BR> +And gray to the world's rim,<BR> +Where hang the reeking fog-banks<BR> +Primordial and dim.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There fret the ceaseless currents,<BR> +And the eternal tide<BR> +Chafes over hidden shallows<BR> +Where the white horses ride.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The wistful fragrant moorlands<BR> +Whose smile bids panic cease,<BR> +Lie treeless and cloud-shadowed<BR> +In grave and lonely peace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Across their flowering bosom,<BR> +From the far end of day<BR> +Blow clean the great soft moor-winds<BR> +All sweet with rose and bay.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A world as large and simple<BR> +As first emerged for man,<BR> +Cleared for the human drama,<BR> +Before the play began.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O well the soul must treasure<BR> +The calm that sets it free—<BR> +The vast and tender skyline,<BR> +The sea-turn's wizardry,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Solace of swaying grasses,<BR> +The friendship of sweet-fern—<BR> +And in the world's confusion<BR> +Remembering, must yearn<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To tread the moorland footpath<BR> +That leads to Sankoty,<BR> +Hearing the field-larks shrilling<BR> +Beside the sailless sea.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="monomoy"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Off Monomoy<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Have you sailed Nantucket Sound<BR> +By lightship, buoy, and bell,<BR> +And lain becalmed at noon<BR> +On an oily summer swell?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lazily drooped the sail,<BR> +Moveless the pennant hung,<BR> +Sagging over the rail<BR> +Idle the main boom swung;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The sea, one mirror of shine<BR> +A single breath would destroy,<BR> +Save for the far low line<BR> +Of treacherous Monomoy.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Yet eastward there toward Spain,<BR> +What castled cities rise<BR> +From the Atlantic plain,<BR> +To our enchanted eyes!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Turret and spire and roof<BR> +Looming out of the sea,<BR> +Where the prosy chart gives proof<BR> +No cape nor isle can be!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Can a vision shine so clear<BR> +Wherein no substance dwells?<BR> +One almost harks to hear<BR> +The sound of the city's bells.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And yet no pealing notes<BR> +Within those belfries be,<BR> +Save echoes from the throats<BR> +Of ship-bells lost at sea.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For none shall anchor there<BR> +Save those who long of yore,<BR> +When tide and wind were fair,<BR> +Sailed and came back no more.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And none shall climb the stairs<BR> +Within those ghostly towers,<BR> +Save those for whom sad prayers<BR> +Went up through fateful hours.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O image of the world,<BR> +O mirage of the sea,<BR> +Cloud-built and foam-impearled.<BR> +What sorcery fashioned thee?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What architect of dream,<BR> +What painter of desire,<BR> +Conceived that fairy scheme<BR> +Touched with fantastic fire?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Even so our city of hope<BR> +We mortal dreamers rear<BR> +Upon the perilous slope<BR> +Above the deep of fear;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Leaving half-known the good<BR> +Our kindly earth bestows,<BR> +For the feigned beatitude<BR> +Of a future no man knows.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lord of the summer sea,<BR> +Whose tides are in thy hand,<BR> +Into immensity<BR> +The vision at thy command<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Fades now, and leaves no sign,—<BR> +No light nor bell nor buoy,—<BR> +Only the faint low line<BR> +Of dangerous Monomoy.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="stgermain"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +In St. Germain Street<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Through the street of St. Germain<BR> +March the tattered hosts of rain,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +While the wind with vagrant fife<BR> +Whips their chilly ranks to life.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +From the window I can see<BR> +Their ghostly banners blowing free,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +As they pass to where the ships<BR> +Crowd about the wharves and slips.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There at day's end they embark<BR> +To invade the realms of dark,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And the sun comes out again<BR> +In the street of St. Germain.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="catskills"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Pan in the Catskills<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They say that he is dead, and now no more<BR> +The reedy syrinx sounds among the hills,<BR> +When the long summer heat is on the land.<BR> +But I have heard the Catskill thrushes sing,<BR> +And therefore am incredulous of death,<BR> +Of pain and sorrow and mortality.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In these blue cañons, deep with hemlock shade,<BR> +In solitudes of twilight or of dawn,<BR> +I have been rapt away from time and care<BR> +By the enchantment of a golden strain<BR> +As pure as ever pierced the Thracian wild,<BR> +Filling the listener with a mute surmise.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +At evening and at morning I have gone<BR> +Down the cool trail between the beech-tree boles,<BR> +And heard the haunting music of the wood<BR> +Ring through the silence of the dark ravine,<BR> +Flooding the earth with beauty and with joy<BR> +And all the ardors of creation old.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And then within my pagan heart awoke<BR> +Remembrance of far-off and fabled years<BR> +In the untarnished sunrise of the world,<BR> +When clear-eyed Hellas in her rapture heard<BR> +A slow mysterious piping wild and keen<BR> +Thrill through her vales, and whispered, "It is Pan!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="june"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A New England June<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>These things I remember<BR> +Of New England June,<BR> +Like a vivid day-dream<BR> +In the azure noon,<BR> +While one haunting figure<BR> +Strays through every scene,<BR> +Like the soul of beauty<BR> +Through her lost demesne.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Gardens full of roses<BR> +And peonies a-blow<BR> +In the dewy morning,<BR> +Row on stately row,<BR> +Spreading their gay patterns,<BR> +Crimson, pied and cream,<BR> +Like some gorgeous fresco<BR> +Or an Eastern dream.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Nets of waving sunlight<BR> +Falling through the trees;<BR> +Fields of gold-white daisies<BR> +Rippling in the breeze;<BR> +Lazy lifting groundswells,<BR> +Breaking green as jade<BR> +On the lilac beaches,<BR> +Where the shore-birds wade.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Orchards full of blossom,<BR> +Where the bob-white calls<BR> +And the honeysuckle<BR> +Climbs the old gray walls;<BR> +Groves of silver birches,<BR> +Beds of roadside fern,<BR> +In the stone-fenced pasture<BR> +At the river's turn.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Out of every picture<BR> +Still she comes to me<BR> +With the morning freshness<BR> +Of the summer sea,—<BR> +A glory in her bearing,<BR> +A sea-light in her eyes,<BR> +As if she could not forget<BR> +The spell of Paradise.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thrushes in the deep woods,<BR> +With their golden themes,<BR> +Fluting like the choirs<BR> +At the birth of dreams.<BR> +Fireflies in the meadows<BR> +At the gate of Night,<BR> +With their fairy lanterns<BR> +Twinkling soft and bright.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ah, not in the roses,<BR> +Nor the azure noon,<BR> +Nor the thrushes' music,<BR> +Lies the soul of June.<BR> +It is something finer,<BR> +More unfading far,<BR> +Than the primrose evening<BR> +And the silver star;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Something of the rapture<BR> +My beloved had,<BR> +When she made the morning<BR> +Radiant and glad,—<BR> +Something of her gracious<BR> +Ecstasy of mien,<BR> +That still haunts the twilight,<BR> +Loving though unseen.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>When the ghostly moonlight<BR> +Walks my garden ground,<BR> +Like a leisurely patrol<BR> +On his nightly round,<BR> +These things I remember<BR> +Of the long ago,<BR> +While the slumbrous roses<BR> +Neither care nor know.</I><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="noon"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Tent of Noon<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Behold, now, where the pageant of high June<BR> +Halts in the glowing noon!<BR> +The trailing shadows rest on plain and hill;<BR> +The bannered hosts are still,<BR> +While over forest crown and mountain head<BR> +The azure tent is spread.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The song is hushed in every woodland throat;<BR> +Moveless the lilies float;<BR> +Even the ancient ever-murmuring sea<BR> +Sighs only fitfully;<BR> +The cattle drowse in the field-corner's shade;<BR> +Peace on the world is laid.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It is the hour when Nature's caravan,<BR> +That bears the pilgrim Man<BR> +Across the desert of uncharted time<BR> +To his far hope sublime,<BR> +Rests in the green oasis of the year,<BR> +As if the end drew near.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ah, traveller, hast thou naught of thanks or praise<BR> +For these fleet halcyon days?—<BR> +No courage to uplift thee from despair<BR> +Born with the breath of prayer?<BR> +Then turn thee to the lilied field once more!<BR> +God stands in his tent door.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="children"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Children of Dream<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The black ash grows in the swampy ground,<BR> +The white ash in the dry;<BR> +The thrush he holds to the woodland bound,<BR> +The hawk to the open sky.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The trout he runs to the mountain brook,<BR> +The swordfish keeps the sea;<BR> +The brown bear knows where the blueberry grows.<BR> +The clover calls the bee.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The locust sings in the August noon,<BR> +The frog in the April night;<BR> +The iris loves the meadow-land,<BR> +The laurel loves the height.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And each will hold his tenure old<BR> +Of earth and sun and stream,<BR> +For all are creatures of desire<BR> +And children of a dream.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="roadside"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> + Roadside Flowers +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We are the roadside flowers,<BR> +Straying from garden grounds,—<BR> +Lovers of idle hours,<BR> +Breakers of ordered bounds.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +If only the earth will feed us,<BR> +If only the wind be kind,<BR> +We blossom for those who need us,<BR> +The stragglers left behind.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And lo, the Lord of the Garden,<BR> +He makes his sun to rise,<BR> +And his rain to fall with pardon<BR> +On our dusty paradise.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +On us he has laid the duty,—<BR> +The task of the wandering breed,—<BR> +To better the world with beauty,<BR> +Wherever the way may lead.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who shall inquire of the season,<BR> +Or question the wind where it blows?<BR> +We blossom and ask no reason.<BR> +The Lord of the Garden knows.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="saintrose"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Garden of Saint Rose<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +This is a holy refuge,<BR> +The garden of Saint Rose,<BR> +A fragrant altar to that peace<BR> +The world no longer knows.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Below a solemn hillside,<BR> +Within the folding shade<BR> +Of overhanging beech and pine<BR> +Its walls and walks are laid.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Cool through the heat of summer,<BR> +Still as a sacred grove,<BR> +It has the rapt unworldly air<BR> +Of mystery and love.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All day before its outlook<BR> +The mist-blue mountains loom,<BR> +And in its trees at tranquil dusk<BR> +The early stars will bloom.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Down its enchanted borders<BR> +Glad ranks of color stand,<BR> +Like hosts of silent seraphim<BR> +Awaiting love's command.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lovely in adoration<BR> +They wait in patient line,<BR> +Snow-white and purple and deep gold<BR> +About the rose-gold shrine.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And there they guard the silence,<BR> +While still from her recess<BR> +Through sun and shade Saint Rose looks down<BR> +In mellow loveliness.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +She seems to say, "O stranger,<BR> +Behold how loving care<BR> +That gives its life for beauty's sake,<BR> +Makes everything more fair!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Then praise the Lord of gardens<BR> +For tree and flower and vine,<BR> +And bless all gardeners who have wrought<BR> +A resting place like mine!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="voice"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The World Voice<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I heard the summer sea<BR> +Murmuring to the shore<BR> +Some endless story of a wrong<BR> +The whole world must deplore.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I heard the mountain wind<BR> +Conversing with the trees<BR> +Of an old sorrow of the hills,<BR> +Mysterious as the sea's.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And all that haunted day<BR> +It seemed that I could hear<BR> +The echo of an ancient speech<BR> +Ring in my listening ear.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And then it came to me,<BR> +That all that I had heard<BR> +Was my own heart in the sea's voice<BR> +And the wind's lonely word.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="grass"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Songs of the Grass<BR> +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +I<BR> +</H4> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ON THE DUNES.<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here all night on the dunes<BR> +In the rocking wind we sleep,<BR> +Watched by sentry stars,<BR> +Lulled by the drone of the deep.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Till hark, in the chill of the dawn<BR> +A field lark wakes and cries,<BR> +And over the floor of the sea<BR> +We watch the round sun rise.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The world is washed once more<BR> +In a tide of purple and gold,<BR> +And the heart of the land is filled<BR> +With desires and dreams untold.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +II<BR> +</H4> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +LORD OF MORNING.<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lord of morning, light of day,<BR> +Sacred color-kindling sun,<BR> +We salute thee in the way,—<BR> +Pilgrims robed in rose and dun.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For thou art a pilgrim too,<BR> +Overlord of all our band.<BR> +In thy fervor we renew<BR> +Quests we do not understand.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +At thy summons we arise,<BR> +At thy touch put glory on.<BR> +And with glad unanxious eyes<BR> +Take the journey thou hast gone.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +III<BR> +</H4> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE TRAVELLER.<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Before the night-blue fades<BR> +And the stars are quite gone,<BR> +I lift my head<BR> +At the noiseless tread<BR> +Of the angel of dawn.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I hear no word, yet my heart<BR> +Is beating apace;<BR> +Then in glory all still<BR> +On the eastern hill<BR> +I behold his face.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All day through the world he goes,<BR> +Making glad, setting free;<BR> +Then his day's work done,<BR> +On the galleon sun<BR> +He sinks in the sea.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="choristers"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Choristers<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When earth was finished and fashioned well,<BR> +There was never a musical note to tell<BR> +How glad God was, save the voice of the rain<BR> +And the sea and the wind on the lonely plain<BR> +And the rivers among the hills.<BR> +And so God made the marvellous birds<BR> +For a choir of joy transcending words,<BR> +That the world might hear and comprehend<BR> +How rhythm and harmony can mend<BR> +The spirits' hurts and ills.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He filled their tiny bodies with fire,<BR> +He taught them love for their chief desire,<BR> +And gave them the magic of wings to be<BR> +His celebrants over land and sea,<BR> +Wherever man might dwell.<BR> +And to each he apportioned a fragment of song—<BR> +Those broken melodies that belong<BR> +To the seraphs' chorus, that we might learn<BR> +The healing of gladness and discern<BR> +In beauty how all is well.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So music dwells in the glorious throats<BR> +Forever, and the enchanted notes<BR> +Fall with rapture upon our ears,<BR> +Moving our hearts to joy and tears<BR> +For things we cannot say.<BR> +In the wilds the whitethroat sings in the rain<BR> +His pure, serene, half-wistful strain;<BR> +And when twilight falls the sleeping hills<BR> +Ring with the cry of the whippoorwills<BR> +In the blue dusk far away.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the great white heart of the winter storm<BR> +The chickadee sings, for his heart is warm,<BR> +And his note is brave to rally the soul<BR> +From doubt and panic to self-control<BR> +And elation that knows no fear.<BR> +The bluebird comes with the winds of March,<BR> +Like a shred of sky on the naked larch;<BR> +The redwing follows the April rain<BR> +To whistle contentment back again<BR> +With his sturdy call of cheer.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The orioles revel through orchard boughs<BR> +In their coats of gold for spring's carouse;<BR> +In shadowy pastures the bobwhites call,<BR> +And the flute of the thrush has a melting fall<BR> +Under the evening star.<BR> +On the verge of June when peonies blow<BR> +And joy comes back to the world we know,<BR> +The bobolinks fill the fields of light<BR> +With a tangle of music silver-bright<BR> +To tell how glad they are.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The tiny warblers fill summer trees<BR> +With their exquisite lesser litanies;<BR> +The tanager in his scarlet coat<BR> +In the hemlock pours from a vibrant throat<BR> +His canticle of the sun.<BR> +The loon on the lake, the hawk in the sky,<BR> +And the sea-gull—each has a piercing cry,<BR> +Like outposts set in the lonely vast<BR> +To cry "all's well" as Time goes past<BR> +And another hour is gone.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But of all the music in God's plan<BR> +Of a mystical symphony for man,<BR> +I shall remember best of all—<BR> +Whatever hereafter may befall<BR> +Or pass and cease to be—<BR> +The hermit's hymn in the solitudes<BR> +Of twilight through the mountain woods,<BR> +And the field-larks crying about our doors<BR> +On the soft sweet wind across the moors<BR> +At morning by the sea.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="counsel"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Weed's Counsel<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Said a traveller by the way<BR> +Pausing, "What hast thou to say,<BR> +Flower by the dusty road,<BR> +That would ease a mortal's load?"</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Traveller, hearken unto me!<BR> +I will tell thee how to see<BR> +Beauties in the earth and sky<BR> +Hidden from the careless eye.<BR> +I will tell thee how to hear<BR> +Nature's music wild and clear,—<BR> +Songs of midday and of dark<BR> +Such as many never mark,<BR> +Lyrics of creation sung<BR> +Ever since the world was young.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And thereafter thou shalt know<BR> +Neither weariness nor woe.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thou shalt see the dawn unfold<BR> +Artistries of rose and gold,<BR> +And the sunbeams on the sea<BR> +Dancing with the wind for glee.<BR> +The red lilies of the moors<BR> +Shall be torches on the floors,<BR> +Where the field-lark lifts his cry<BR> +To rejoice the passer-by,<BR> +In a wide world rimmed with blue<BR> +Lovely as when time was new.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And thereafter thou shalt fare<BR> +Light of foot and free from care.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I will teach thee how to find<BR> +Lost enchantments of the mind<BR> +All about thee, never guessed<BR> +By indifferent unrest.<BR> +Thy distracted thought shall learn<BR> +Patience from the roadside fern,<BR> +And a sweet philosophy<BR> +From the flowering locust tree,—<BR> +While thy heart shall not disdain<BR> +The consolation of the rain.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Not an acre but shall give<BR> +Of its strength to help thee live.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With the many-wintered sun<BR> +Shall thy hardy course be run.<BR> +And the bright new moon shall be<BR> +A lamp to thy felicity.<BR> +When green-mantled spring shall come<BR> +Past thy door with flute and drum,<BR> +And when over wood and swamp<BR> +Autumn trails her scarlet pomp,<BR> +No misgiving shalt thou know,<BR> +Passing glad to rise and go.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So thy days shall be unrolled<BR> +Like a wondrous cloth of gold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When gray twilight with her star<BR> +Makes a heaven that is not far,<BR> +Touched with shadows and with dreams,<BR> +Thou shalt hear the woodland streams<BR> +Singing through the starry night<BR> +Holy anthems of delight.<BR> +So the ecstasy of earth<BR> +Shall refresh thee as at birth,<BR> +And thou shalt arise each morn<BR> +Radiant with a soul reborn.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And this wisdom of a day<BR> +None shall ever take away.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What the secret, what the clew<BR> +The wayfarer must pursue?<BR> +Only one thing he must have<BR> +Who would share these transports brave.<BR> +Love within his heart must dwell<BR> +Like a bubbling roadside well,<BR> +For a spring to quicken thought,<BR> +Else my counsel comes to naught.<BR> +For without that quickening trust<BR> +We are less than roadside dust.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +This, O traveller, is my creed,—<BR> +All the wisdom of the weed!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Then the traveller set his pack<BR> +Once more on his dusty back,<BR> +And trudged on for many a mile<BR> +Fronting fortune with a smile.</I><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="heron"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Blue Heron<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I see the great blue heron<BR> +Rising among the reeds<BR> +And floating down the wind,<BR> +Like a gliding sail<BR> +With the set of the stream.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I hear the two-horse mower<BR> +Clacking among the hay,<BR> +In the heat of a July noon,<BR> +And the driver's voice<BR> +As he turns his team.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I see the meadow lilies<BR> +Flecked with their darker tan,<BR> +The elms, and the great white clouds;<BR> +And all the world<BR> +Is a passing dream.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="woodland"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Woodland Rain<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Shining, shining children<BR> +Of the summer rain,<BR> +Racing down the valley,<BR> +Sweeping o'er the plain!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Rushing through the forest,<BR> +Pelting on the leaves,<BR> +Drenching down the meadow<BR> +With its standing sheaves;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Robed in royal silver,<BR> +Girt with jewels gay,<BR> +With a gust of gladness<BR> +You pass upon your way.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Fresh, ah, fresh behind you,<BR> +Sunlit and impearled,<BR> +As it was in Eden,<BR> +Lies the lovely world!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="storm"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Summer Storm<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The hilltop trees are bowing<BR> +Under the coming of storm.<BR> +The low, gray clouds are trailing<BR> +Like squadrons that sweep and form,<BR> +With their ammunition of rain.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then the trumpeter wind gives signal<BR> +To unlimber the viewless guns;<BR> +The cattle huddle together;<BR> +Indoors the farmer runs;<BR> +And the first shot lashes the pane.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They charge through the quiet orchard;<BR> +One pear tree is snapped like a wand;<BR> +As they sweep from the shattered hillside,<BR> +Ruffling the blackened pond,<BR> +Ere the sun takes the field again.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="sunbeams"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Dance of the Sunbeams<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When morning is high o'er the hilltops,<BR> +On river and stream and lake,<BR> +Wherever a young breeze whispers,<BR> +The sun-clad dancers wake.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +One after one up-springing,<BR> +They flash from their dim retreat.<BR> +Merry as running laughter<BR> +Is the news of their twinkling feet.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Over the floors of azure<BR> +Wherever the wind-flaws run,<BR> +Sparkling, leaping, and racing,<BR> +Their antics scatter the sun.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +As long as water ripples<BR> +And weather is clear and glad,<BR> +Day after day they are dancing,<BR> +Never a moment sad.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But when through the field of heaven<BR> +The wings of storm take flight,<BR> +At a touch of the flying shadows<BR> +They falter and slip from sight.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Until at the gray day's ending,<BR> +As the squadrons of cloud retire,<BR> +They pass in the triumph of sunset<BR> +With banners of crimson fire.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="campfire"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Campfire of the Sun<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lo, now, the journeying sun,<BR> +Another day's march done,<BR> +Kindles his campfire at the edge of night!<BR> +And in the twilight pale<BR> +Above his crimson trail,<BR> +The stars move out their cordons still and bright.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now in the darkening hush<BR> +A solitary thrush<BR> +Sings on in silvery rapture to the deep;<BR> +While brooding on her best,<BR> +The wandering soul has rest,<BR> +And earth receives her sacred gift of sleep.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="streams"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Summer Streams<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All day long beneath the sun<BR> +Shining through the fields they run,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Singing in a cadence known<BR> +To the seraphs round the throne.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And the traveller drawing near<BR> +Through the meadow, halts to hear<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Anthems of a natural joy<BR> +No disaster can destroy.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All night long from set of sun<BR> +Through the starry woods they run,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Singing through the purple dark<BR> +Songs to make a traveller hark.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All night long, when winds are low,<BR> +Underneath my window go<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The immortal happy streams,<BR> +Making music through my dreams.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="woods"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The God of the Wood<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here all the forces of the wood<BR> +As one converge,<BR> +To make the soul of solitude<BR> +Where all things merge.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The sun, the rain-wind, and the rain,<BR> +The visiting moon,<BR> +The hurrying cloud by peak and plain,<BR> +Each with its boon.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here power attains perfection still<BR> +In mighty ease,<BR> +That the great earth may have her will<BR> +Of joy and peace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And so through me, the mortal born<BR> +Of plasmic clay,<BR> +Immortal powers, kind, fierce, forlorn,<BR> +And glad, have sway.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Eternal passions, ardors fine,<BR> +And monstrous fears,<BR> +Rule and rebel, serene, malign,<BR> +Or loosed in tears;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Until at last they shall evolve<BR> +From griefs and joys<BR> +Some steady light, some firm resolve,<BR> +Some Godlike poise.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="sunrise"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +At Sunrise<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the stars have faded<BR> +In the purple chill,<BR> +Lo, the sun is kindling<BR> +On the eastern hill.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Tree by tree the forest<BR> +Takes the golden tinge,<BR> +As the shafts of glory<BR> +Pierce the summit's fringe.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Rock by rock the ledges<BR> +Take the rosy sheen,<BR> +As the tide of splendor<BR> +Floods the dark ravine.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Like a shining angel<BR> +At my cabin door,<BR> +Shod with hope and silence,<BR> +Day is come once more.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then, as if in sorrow<BR> +That you are not here,<BR> +All his magic beauties<BR> +Gray and disappear.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="twilight"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +At Twilight +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the fire is lighted<BR> +On the chimney stone,<BR> +Day goes down the valley,<BR> +I am left alone.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the misty purple<BR> +Floods the darkened vale,<BR> +And the stars come out<BR> +On the twilight trail.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The mountain river murmurs<BR> +In his rocky bed,<BR> +And the stealthy shadows<BR> +Fill the house with dread.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then I hear your laughter<BR> +At the open door,—<BR> +Brightly burns the fire,<BR> +I need fear no more.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="moonrise"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Moonrise<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +At the end of the road through the wood<BR> +I see the great moon rise.<BR> +The fields are flooded with shine,<BR> +And my soul with surmise.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What if that mystic orb<BR> +With her shadowy beams,<BR> +Should be the revealer at last<BR> +Of my darkest dreams!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What if this tender fire<BR> +In my heart's deep hold<BR> +Should be wiser than all the lore<BR> +Of the sages of old!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="queen"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Queen of Night<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Mortal, mortal, have you seen<BR> +In the scented summer night,<BR> +Great Astarte, clad in green<BR> +With a veil of mystic light,<BR> +Passing on her silent way,<BR> +Pale and lovelier than day?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Mortal, mortal, have you heard,<BR> +On an odorous summer eve,<BR> +Rumors of an unknown word<BR> +Bidding sorrow not to grieve,—<BR> +Echoes of a silver voice<BR> +Bidding every heart rejoice?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Mortal, when the slim new moon<BR> +Hangs above the western hill,<BR> +When the year comes round to June<BR> +And the leafy world is still,<BR> +Then, enraptured, you shall hear<BR> +Secrets for a poet's ear.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Mortal, mortal, come with me,<BR> +When the moon is rising large,<BR> +Through the wood or from the sea,<BR> +Or by some lone river marge.<BR> +There, entranced, you shall behold<BR> +Beauty's self, that grows not old.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="nightlyric"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Night Lyric<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the world's far edges<BR> +Faint and blue,<BR> +Where the rocky ledges<BR> +Stand in view,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Fades the rosy, tender<BR> +Evening light;<BR> +Then in starry splendor<BR> +Comes the night.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So a stormy lifetime<BR> +Comes to close,<BR> +Spirit's mortal strifetime<BR> +Finds repose.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Faith and toil and vision<BR> +Crowned at last,<BR> +Failure and derision<BR> +Overpast,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All the daylight splendor<BR> +Far above,<BR> +Calm and sure and tender<BR> +Comes thy love.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="heart"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Heart of Night<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When all the stars are sown<BR> +Across the night-blue space,<BR> +With the immense unknown,<BR> +In silence face to face.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We stand in speechless awe<BR> +While Beauty marches by,<BR> +And wonder at the Law<BR> +Which wears such majesty.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +How small a thing is man<BR> +In all that world-sown vast,<BR> +That he should hope or plan<BR> +Or dream his dream could last!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O doubter of the light,<BR> +Confused by fear and wrong,<BR> +Lean on the heart of night<BR> +And let love make thee strong!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The Good that is the True<BR> +Is clothed with Beauty still.<BR> +Lo, in their tent of blue,<BR> +The stars above the hill!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="peace"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Peace<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The sleeping tarn is dark<BR> +Below the wooded hill.<BR> +Save for its homing sounds,<BR> +The twilit world grows still.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And I am left to muse<BR> +In grave-eyed mystery,<BR> +And watch the stars come out<BR> +As sandalled dusk goes by.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And now the light is gone,<BR> +The drowsy murmurs cease,<BR> +And through the still unknown<BR> +I wonder whence comes peace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then softly falls the word<BR> +Of one beyond a name,<BR> +"Peace only comes to him<BR> +Who guards his life from shame,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Who gives his heart to love,<BR> +And holding truth for guide,<BR> +Girds him with fearless strength,<BR> +That freedom may abide."<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="graywall"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Old Gray Wall<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Time out of mind I have stood<BR> +Fronting the frost and the sun,<BR> +That the dream of the world might endure,<BR> +And the goodly will be done.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Did the hand of the builder guess,<BR> +As he laid me stone by stone,<BR> +A heart in the granite lurked,<BR> +Patient and fond as his own?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Lovers have leaned on me<BR> +Under the summer moon,<BR> +And mowers laughed in my shade<BR> +In the harvest heat at noon.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Children roving the fields<BR> +With early flowers in spring,<BR> +Old men turning to look,<BR> +When they heard a bluebird sing,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Have seen me a thousand times<BR> +Standing here in the sun,<BR> +Yet never a moment dreamed<BR> +Whose likeness they gazed upon.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ah, when will ye understand,<BR> +Mortals who strive and plod,—<BR> +Who rests on this old gray wall<BR> +Lays a hand on the shoulder of God!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="tedeum"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Te Deum<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +If I could paint you the autumn color, the melting glow upon all<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">things laid,</SPAN><BR> +The violet haze of Indian summer, before its splendor begins to fade,<BR> +When scarlet has reached its breathless moment, and gold the hush<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">of its glory now,</SPAN><BR> +That were a mightier craft than Titian's, the heart to lift and<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">the head to bow.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I should be lord of a world of rapture, master of magic and gladness,<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">too,—</SPAN><BR> +The touch of wonder transcending science, the solace escaping from<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">line and hue;</SPAN><BR> +I would reveal through tint and texture the very soul of this earth<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">of ours,</SPAN><BR> +Forever yearning through boundless beauty to exalt the spirit with<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">all her powers.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +See where it lies by the lake this morning, our autumn hillside<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">of hardwood trees,</SPAN><BR> +A masterpiece of the mighty painter who works in the primal mysteries.<BR> +A living tapestry, rich and glowing with blended marvels, vermilion<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">and dun,</SPAN><BR> +Hung out for the pageant of time that passes along an avenue<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">of the sun!</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The crown of the ash is tinged with purple, the hickory leaves<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">are Etruscan gold,</SPAN><BR> +And the tulip-tree lifts yellow banners against the blue for<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">a signal bold;</SPAN><BR> +The oaks in crimson cohorts stand, a myriad sumach torches mass<BR> +In festal pomp and victorious pride, when the vision of spring<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">is brought to pass.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Down from the line of the shore's deep shadows another and<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">softer picture lies,</SPAN><BR> +As if the soul of the lake in slumber should harbor a dream<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">of paradise,—</SPAN><BR> +Passive and blurred and unsubstantial, lulling the sense and<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">luring the mind</SPAN><BR> +With the spell of an empty fairy world, where sinew and sap<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">are left behind.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So men dream of a far-off heaven of power and knowledge and<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">endless joy,</SPAN><BR> +Asleep to the moment's fine elation, dull to the day's divine<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">employ,</SPAN><BR> +Musing over a phantom image, born of fantastic hope and fear,<BR> +Of the very happiness life engenders and earth provides—our<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">privilege here.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Dare we dispel a single transport, neglect the worth that is<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">here and now,</SPAN><BR> +Yet dream of enjoying its shadowy semblance in the by-and-by<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">somewhere, somehow?</SPAN><BR> +I heard the wind on the hillside whisper, "They ill prepare for<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">a journey hence</SPAN><BR> +Who waste the senses and starve the spirit in a world all made<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">for spirit and sense.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Is the full stream fed from a stifled source, or the ripe fruit<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">filled from a blighted flower?</SPAN><BR> +Are not the brook and the blossom greatened through many a busy<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">beatified hour?</SPAN><BR> +Not in the shadow but in the substance, plastic and potent at our<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">command,</SPAN><BR> +Are all the wisdom and gladness of heart; this is the kingdom of<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">heaven at hand."</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So I will pass through the lovely world, and partake of beauty to<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">feed my soul.</SPAN><BR> +With earth my domain and growth my portion, how should I sue for<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">a further dole?</SPAN><BR> +In the lift I feel of immortal rapture, in the flying glimpse I gain<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">of truth,</SPAN><BR> +Released is the passion that sought perfection, assuaged the ardor<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">of dreamful youth.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The patience of time shall teach me courage, the strength of the sun<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">shall lend me poise.</SPAN><BR> +I would give thanks for the autumn glory, for the teaching of earth<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">and all her joys.</SPAN><BR> +Her fine fruition shall well suffice me; the air shall stir in my<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">veins like wine;</SPAN><BR> +While the moment waits and the wonder deepens, my life shall merge<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">with the life divine.</SPAN><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="october"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +In October<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now come the rosy dogwoods,<BR> +The golden tulip-tree,<BR> +And the scarlet yellow maple,<BR> +To make a day for me.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The ash-trees on the ridges,<BR> +The alders in the swamp,<BR> +Put on their red and purple<BR> +To join the autumn pomp.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The woodbine hangs her crimson<BR> +Along the pasture wall,<BR> +And all the bannered sumacs<BR> +Have heard the frosty call.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who then so dead to valor<BR> +As not to raise a cheer,<BR> +When all the woods are marching<BR> +In triumph of the year?<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="waters"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +By Still Waters<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"<I>He leadeth me beside the still waters; He restoreth<BR> +my soul.</I>"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"My tent stands in a garden<BR> +Of aster and goldenrod,<BR> +Tilled by the rain and the sunshine,<BR> +And sown by the hand of God,—<BR> +An old New England pasture<BR> +Abandoned to peace and time,<BR> +And by the magic of beauty<BR> +Reclaimed to the sublime.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +About it are golden woodlands<BR> +Of tulip and hickory;<BR> +On the open ridge behind it<BR> +You may mount to a glimpse of sea,—<BR> +The far-off, blue, Homeric<BR> +Rim of the world's great shield,<BR> +A border of boundless glamor<BR> +For the soul's familiar field.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In purple and gray-wrought lichen<BR> +The boulders lie in the sun;<BR> +Along its grassy footpath<BR> +The white-tailed rabbits run.<BR> +The crickets work and chirrup<BR> +Through the still afternoon;<BR> +And the owl calls from the hillside<BR> +Under the frosty moon.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The odorous wild grape clambers<BR> +Over the tumbling wall,<BR> +And through the autumnal quiet<BR> +The chestnuts open and fall.<BR> +Sharing time's freshness and fragrance,<BR> +Part of the earth's great soul,<BR> +Here man's spirit may ripen<BR> +To wisdom serene and whole.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Shall we not grow with the asters—<BR> +Never reluctant nor sad,<BR> +Not counting the cost of being,<BR> +Living to dare and be glad?<BR> +Shall we not lift with the crickets<BR> +A chorus of ready cheer,<BR> +Braving the frost of oblivion,<BR> +Quick to be happy here?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Is my will as sweet as the wild grape,<BR> +Spreading delight on the air<BR> +For the passer-by's enchantment,<BR> +Subtle and unaware?<BR> +Have I as brave a spirit,<BR> +Sprung from the self-same mould,<BR> +As this weed from its own contentment<BR> +Lifting its shaft of gold?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The deep red cones of the sumach<BR> +And the woodbine's crimson's sprays<BR> +Have bannered the common roadside<BR> +For the pageant of passing days.<BR> +These are the oracles Nature<BR> +Fills with her holy breath,<BR> +Giving them glory of color,<BR> +Transcending the shadow of death.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here in the sifted sunlight<BR> +A spirit seems to brood<BR> +On the beauty and worth of being,<BR> +In tranquil, instinctive mood;<BR> +And the heart, filled full of gladness<BR> +Such as the wise earth knows,<BR> +Wells with a full thanksgiving<BR> +For the gifts that life bestows:<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For the ancient and virile nurture<BR> +Of the teeming primordial ground,<BR> +For the splendid gospel of color,<BR> +The rapt revelations of sound;<BR> +For the morning-blue above us<BR> +And the rusted gold of the fern,<BR> +For the chickadee's call of valor<BR> +Bidding the faint-heart turn;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For fire and running water,<BR> +Snowfall and summer rain;<BR> +For sunsets and quiet meadows,<BR> +The fruit and the standing grain;<BR> +For the solemn hour of moonrise<BR> +Over the crest of trees,<BR> +When the mellow lights are kindled<BR> +In the lamps of the centuries;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For those who wrought aforetime,<BR> +Led by the mystic strain<BR> +To strive for the larger freedom,<BR> +And live for the greater gain;<BR> +For plenty of peace and playtime,<BR> +The homely goods of earth,<BR> +And for rare immaterial treasures<BR> +Accounted of little worth;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For art and learning and friendship,<BR> +Where beneficent truth is supreme,—<BR> +Those everlasting cities<BR> +Built on the hills of dream;<BR> +For all things growing and goodly<BR> +That foster this life, and breed<BR> +The immortal flower of wisdom<BR> +Out of the mortal seed.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But most of all for the spirit<BR> +That cannot rest nor bide<BR> +In stale and sterile convenience,<BR> +Nor safety proven and tried,<BR> +But still inspired and driven,<BR> +Must seek what better may be,<BR> +And up from the loveliest garden<BR> +Must climb for a glimpse of sea.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="lines"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Lines for a Picture<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the leaves are flying<BR> +Across the azure sky,<BR> +Autumn on the hill top<BR> +Turns to say good-by;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In her gold-red tunic,<BR> +Like an Eastern queen,<BR> +With untarnished courage<BR> +In her wilding mien.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All the earth below her<BR> +Answers to her gaze,<BR> +And her eyes are pensive<BR> +With remembered days.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Yet, with cheek ensanguined,<BR> +Gay at heart she goes<BR> +On the great adventure<BR> +Where the north wind blows.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="pasture"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Deserted Pasture<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +I love the stony pasture<BR> +That no one else will have.<BR> +The old gray rocks so friendly seem,<BR> +So durable and brave.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In tranquil contemplation<BR> +It watches through the year.<BR> +Seeing the frosty stars arise,<BR> +The slender moons appear.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Its music is the rain-wind,<BR> +Its choristers the birds,<BR> +And there are secrets in its heart<BR> +Too wonderful for words.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It keeps the bright-eyed creatures<BR> +That play about its walls,<BR> +Though long ago its milking herds<BR> +Were banished from their stalls.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Only the children come there,<BR> +For buttercups in May,<BR> +Or nuts in autumn, where it lies<BR> +Dreaming the hours away.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Long since its strength was given<BR> +To making good increase,<BR> +And now its soul is turned again<BR> +To beauty and to peace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There in the early springtime<BR> +The violets are blue,<BR> +And adder-tongues in coats of gold<BR> +Are garmented anew.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There bayberry and aster<BR> +Are crowded on its floors,<BR> +When marching summer halts to praise<BR> +The Lord of Out-of-doors.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And there October passes<BR> +In gorgeous livery,—<BR> +In purple ash, and crimson oak,<BR> +And golden tulip tree.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And when the winds of winter<BR> +Their bugle blasts begin,<BR> +The snowy hosts of heaven arrive<BR> +And pitch their tents therein.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="autumn"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Autumn<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now when the time of fruit and grain is come,<BR> +When apples hang above the orchard wall,<BR> +And from the tangle by the roadside stream<BR> +A scent of wild grapes fills the racy air,<BR> +Comes Autumn with her sunburnt caravan,<BR> +Like a long gypsy train with trappings gay<BR> +And tattered colors of the Orient,<BR> +Moving slow-footed through the dreamy hills.<BR> +The woods of Wilton at her coming wear<BR> +Tints of Bokhara and of Samarcand:<BR> +The maples glow with their Pompeian red,<BR> +The hickories with burnt Etruscan gold;<BR> +And while the crickets fife along her march,<BR> +Behind her banners burns the crimson sun.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="november"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +November Twilight<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now Winter at the end of day<BR> +Along the ridges takes her way,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Upon her twilight round to light<BR> +The faithful candles of the night.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +As quiet as the nun she goes<BR> +With silver lamp in hand, to close<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The silent doors of dusk that keep<BR> +The hours of memory and sleep.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +She pauses to tread out the fires<BR> +Where Autumn's festal train retires.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The last red embers smoulder down<BR> +Behind the steeples of the town.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Austere and fine the trees stand bare<BR> +And moveless in the frosty air,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Against the pure and paling light<BR> +Before the threshold of the night.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +On purple valley and dim wood<BR> +The timeless hush of solitude<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Is laid, as if the time for some<BR> +Transcending mystery were come,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +That shall illumine and console<BR> +The penitent and eager soul,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Setting her free to stand before<BR> +Supernal beauty and adore.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Dear Heart, in heaven's high portico<BR> +It is the hour of prayer. And lo,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Above the earth, serene and still,<BR> +One star—our star—o'er Lonetree Hill!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="ghostyard"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Ghost-yard of the Goldenrod<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the first silent frost has trod<BR> +The ghost-yard of the goldenrod,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And laid the blight of his cold hand<BR> +Upon the warm autumnal land,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And all things wait the subtle change<BR> +That men call death, is it not strange<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +That I—without a care or need,<BR> +Who only am an idle weed—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Should wait unmoved, so frail, so bold,<BR> +The coming of the final cold!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="before"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Before the Snow<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now soon, ah, very soon, I know<BR> +The trumpets of the north will blow,<BR> +And the great winds will come to bring<BR> +The pale, wild riders of the snow.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Darkening the sun with level flight,<BR> +At arrowy speed, they will alight,<BR> +Unnumbered as the desert sands,<BR> +To bivouac on the edge of night.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then I, within their somber ring,<BR> +Shall hear a voice that seems to sing,<BR> +Deep, deep within my tranquil heart,<BR> +The valiant prophecy of spring.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="winter"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> + Winter +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When winter comes along the river line<BR> +And Earth has put away her green attire,<BR> +With all the pomp of her autumnal pride,<BR> +The world is made a sanctuary old,<BR> +Where Gothic trees uphold the arch of gray,<BR> +And gaunt stone fences on the ridge's crest<BR> +Stand like carved screens before a crimson shrine,<BR> +Showing the sunset glory through the chinks.<BR> +There, like a nun with frosty breath, the soul,<BR> +Uplift in adoration, sees the world<BR> +Transfigured to a temple of her Lord;<BR> +While down the soft blue-shadowed aisles of snow<BR> +Night, like a sacristan with silent step,<BR> +Passes to light the tapers of the stars.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="winterpiece"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Winter Piece<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Over the rim of a lacquered bowl,<BR> +Where a cold blue water-color stands,<BR> +I see the wintry breakers roll<BR> +And heave their froth up the freezing sands.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here in immunity safe and dull,<BR> +Soul treads her circuit of trivial things.<BR> +There soul's brother, a shining gull,<BR> +Dares the rough weather on dauntless wings.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="winterstreams"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Winter Streams<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now the little rivers go<BR> +Muffled safely under snow,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And the winding meadow streams<BR> +Murmur in their wintry dreams,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +While a tinkling music wells<BR> +Faintly from there icy bells,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Telling how their hearts are bold<BR> +Though the very sun be cold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ah, but wait until the rain<BR> +Comes a-sighing once again,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Sweeping softly from the Sound<BR> +Over ridge and meadow ground!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then the little streams will hear<BR> +April calling far and near,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Slip their snowy bands and run<BR> +Sparkling in the welcome sun.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="wintertwilight"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Winter Twilight<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Along the wintry skyline,<BR> +Crowning the rocky crest,<BR> +Stands the bare screen of hardwood trees<BR> +Against the saffron west,—<BR> +Its gray and purple network<BR> +Of branching tracery<BR> +Outspread upon the lucent air,<BR> +Like weed within the sea.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The scarlet robe of autumn<BR> +Renounced and put away,<BR> +The mystic Earth is fairer still,—<BR> +A Puritan in gray.<BR> +The spirit of the winter,<BR> +How tender, how austere!<BR> +Yet all the ardor of the spring<BR> +And summer's dream are here.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Fear not, O timid lover,<BR> +The touch of frost and rime!<BR> +This is the virtue that sustained<BR> +The roses in their prime.<BR> +The anthem of the northwind<BR> +Shall hallow thy despair,<BR> +The benediction of the snow<BR> +Be answer to thy prayer.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And now the star of evening<BR> +That is the pilgrim's sign,<BR> +Is lighted in the primrose dusk,—<BR> +A lamp before a shrine.<BR> +Peace fills the mighty minster,<BR> +Tranquil and gray and old,<BR> +And all the chancel of the west<BR> +Is bright with paling gold.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A little wind goes sifting<BR> +Along the meadow floor,—<BR> +Like steps of lovely penitents<BR> +Who sighingly adore.<BR> +Then falls the twilight curtain,<BR> +And fades the eerie light,<BR> +And frost and silence turn the keys<BR> +In the great doors of night.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="twelfth"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Twelfth Night Star<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It is the bitter time of year<BR> +When iron is the ground,<BR> +With hasp and sheathing of black ice<BR> +The forest lakes are bound,<BR> +The world lies snugly under snow,<BR> +Asleep without a sound.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All the night long in trooping squares<BR> +The sentry stars go by,<BR> +The silent and unwearying hosts<BR> +That bear man company,<BR> +And with their pure enkindling fires<BR> +Keep vigils lone and high.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Through the dead hours before the dawn,<BR> +When the frost snaps the sill,<BR> +From chestnut-wooded ridge to sea<BR> +The earth lies dark and still,<BR> +Till one great silver planet shines<BR> +Above the eastern hill.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +It is the star of Gabriel,<BR> +The herald of the Word<BR> +In days when messengers of God<BR> +With sons of men conferred,<BR> +Who brought the tidings of great joy<BR> +The watching shepherds heard;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The mystic light that moved to lead<BR> +The wise of long ago,<BR> +Out of the great East where they dreamed<BR> +Of truths they could not know,<BR> +To seek some good that should assuage<BR> +The world's most ancient woe.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O well, believe, they loved their dream,<BR> +Those children of the star,<BR> +Who saw the light and followed it,<BR> +Prophetical, afar,—<BR> +Brave Caspar, clear-eyed Melchior,<BR> +And eager Balthasar.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Another year slips to the void,<BR> +And still with omen bright<BR> +Above the sleeping doubting world<BR> +The day-star is alight,—<BR> +The waking signal flashed of old<BR> +In the blue Syrian night.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But who are now as wise as they<BR> +Whose faith could read the sign<BR> +Of the three gifts that shall suffice<BR> +To honor the divine,<BR> +And show the tread of common life<BR> +Ineffably benign?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Whoever wakens on a day<BR> +Happy to know and be,<BR> +To enjoy the air, to love his kind,<BR> +To labor, to be free,—<BR> +Already his enraptured soul<BR> +Lives in eternity.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For him with every rising sun<BR> +The year begins anew;<BR> +The fertile earth receives her lord,<BR> +And prophecy comes true,<BR> +Wondrously as a fall of snow,<BR> +Dear as a drench of dew.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Who gives his life for beauty's need,<BR> +King Caspar could no more;<BR> +Who serves the truth with single mind<BR> +Shall stand with Melchior;<BR> +And love is all that Balthasar<BR> +In crested censer bore.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="choral"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Christmas Eve Choral<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Halleluja!<BR> +What sound is this across the dark<BR> +While all the earth is sleeping? Hark!<BR> +Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja!</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Why are thy tender eyes so bright,<BR> +Mary, Mary?<BR> +On the prophetic deep of night<BR> +Joseph, Joseph,<BR> +I see the borders of the light,<BR> +And in the day that is to be<BR> +An aureoled man-child I see,<BR> +Great love's son, Joseph.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Halleluja!<BR> +He hears not, but she hears afar,<BR> +The Minstrel Angel of the star.<BR> +Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja!</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Why is thy gentle smile so deep,<BR> +Mary, Mary?<BR> +It is the secret I must keep,<BR> +Joseph, Joseph,—<BR> +The joy that will not let me sleep,<BR> +The glory of the coming days,<BR> +When all the world shall turn to praise<BR> +God's goodness, Joseph.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Halleluja!<BR> +Clear as the bird that brings the morn<BR> +She hears the heavenly music borne.<BR> +Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja!</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Why is thy radiant face so calm,<BR> +Mary, Mary?<BR> +His strength is like a royal palm,<BR> +Joseph, Joseph;<BR> +His beauty like the victor's psalm.<BR> +He moves like morning o'er the lands<BR> +And there is healing in his hands<BR> +For sorrow, Joseph.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Halleluja!<BR> +Tender as dew-fall on the earth<BR> +She hears the choral of love's birth.<BR> +Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja!</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What is the message come to thee,<BR> +Mary, Mary?<BR> +I hear like wind within the tree,<BR> +Joseph, Joseph,<BR> +Or like a far-off melody<BR> +His deathless voice proclaiming peace,<BR> +And bidding ruthless wrong to cease,<BR> +For love's sake, Joseph.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Halleluja!<BR> +Moving as rain-wind in the spring<BR> +She hears the angel chorus ring.<BR> +Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja!</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Why are thy patient hands so still,<BR> +Mary, Mary?<BR> +I see the shadow on the hill,<BR> +Joseph, Joseph,<BR> +And wonder if it is God's will<BR> +That courage, service, and glad youth<BR> +Shall perish in the cause of truth<BR> +Forever, Joseph.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Halleluja!<BR> +Her heart in that celestial chime<BR> +Has heard the harmony of time.<BR> +Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja!</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Why is thy voice so strange and far,<BR> +Mary, Mary?<BR> +I see the glory of the star,<BR> +Joseph, Joseph;<BR> +And in its light all things that are,<BR> +Made glad and wise beyond the sway<BR> +Of death and darkness and dismay,<BR> +In God's time Joseph.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Halleluja!<BR> +To every heart in love 'tis given<BR> +To hear the ecstasy of heaven.<BR> +Halleluja! Halleluja! Halleluja.</I><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="song"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Christmas Song<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Above the weary waiting world,<BR> +Asleep in chill despair,<BR> +There breaks a sound of joyous bells<BR> +Upon the frosted air.<BR> +And o'er the humblest rooftree, lo,<BR> +A star is dancing on the snow.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What makes the yellow star to dance<BR> +Upon the brink of night?<BR> +What makes the breaking dawn to glow<BR> +So magically bright,—<BR> +And all the earth to be renewed<BR> +With infinite beatitude?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The singing bells, the throbbing star,<BR> +The sunbeams on the snow,<BR> +And the awakening heart that leaps<BR> +New ecstasy to know,—<BR> +They all are dancing in the morn<BR> +Because a little child is born.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="wisemen"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Wise Men from the East<BR> +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +(A LITTLE BOY'S CHRISTMAS LESSON)<BR> +</H4> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Why were the Wise Men three,<BR> +Instead of five or seven?"</I><BR> +They had to match, you see,<BR> +The archangels in Heaven.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +God sent them, sure and swift,<BR> +By his mysterious presage,<BR> +To bear the threefold gift<BR> +And take the threefold message.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thus in their hands were seen<BR> +The gold of purest Beauty,<BR> +The myrrh of Truth all-clean,<BR> +The frankincense of Duty.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And thus they bore away<BR> +The loving heart's great treasure,<BR> +And knowledge clear as day,<BR> +To be our life's new measure.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +They went back to the East<BR> +To spread the news of gladness.<BR> +There one became a priest<BR> +To the new word of sadness;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And one a workman, skilled<BR> +Beyond the old earth's fashion;<BR> +And one a scholar, filled<BR> +With learning's endless passion.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +God sent them for a sign<BR> +He would not change nor alter<BR> +His good and fair design,<BR> +However man may falter.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He meant that, as He chose<BR> +His perfect plan and willed it,<BR> +They stood in place of those<BR> +Who elsewhere had fulfilled it;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Whoso would mark and reach<BR> +The height of man's election,<BR> +Must still achieve and teach<BR> +The triplicate perfection.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For since the world was made,<BR> +One thing was needed ever,<BR> +To keep man undismayed<BR> +Through failure and endeavor—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A faultless trinity<BR> +Of body, mind, and spirit,<BR> +And each with its own three<BR> +Strong angels to be near it;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Strength to arise and go<BR> +Wherever dawn is breaking,<BR> +Poise like the tides that flow,<BR> +Instinct for beauty-making;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Imagination bold<BR> +To cross the mystic border,<BR> +Reason to seek and hold,<BR> +Judgment for law and order;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Joy that makes all things well,<BR> +Faith that is all-availing<BR> +Each terror to dispel,<BR> +And Love, ah, Love unfailing.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +These are the flaming Nine<BR> +Who walk the world unsleeping,<BR> +Sent forth by the Divine<BR> +With manhood in their keeping.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +These are the seraphs strong<BR> +His mighty soul had need of,<BR> +When He would right the wrong<BR> +And sorrow He took heed of.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And that, I think, is why<BR> +The Wise Men knelt before Him,<BR> +And put their kingdoms by<BR> +To serve Him and adore Him;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So that our Lord, unknown,<BR> +Should not be unattended,<BR> +When He was here alone<BR> +And poor and unbefriended;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +That still He might have three<BR> +(Rather than five or seven)<BR> +To stand in their degree,<BR> +Like archangels in Heaven.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="magi"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Sending of the Magi<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In a far Eastern country<BR> +It happened long of yore,<BR> +Where a lone and level sunrise<BR> +Flushes the desert floor,<BR> +That three kings sat together<BR> +And a spearman kept the door.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Caspar, whose wealth was counted<BR> +By city and caravan;<BR> +With Melchior, the seer<BR> +Who read the starry plan;<BR> +And Balthasar, the blameless,<BR> +Who loved his fellow man.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There while they talked, a sudden<BR> +Strange rushing sound arose,<BR> +And as with startled faces<BR> +They thought upon their foes,<BR> +Three figures stood before them<BR> +In imperial repose.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +One in flame-gold and one in blue<BR> +And one in scarlet clear,<BR> +With the almighty portent<BR> +Of sunrise they drew near!<BR> +And the kings made obeisance<BR> +With hand on breast, in fear.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Arise," said they, "we bring you<BR> +Good tidings of great peace!<BR> +To-day a power is wakened<BR> +Whose working must increase,<BR> +Till fear and greed and malice<BR> +And violence shall cease."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The messengers were Michael,<BR> +By whom all things are wrought<BR> +To shape and hue; and Gabriel<BR> +Who is the lord of thought;<BR> +And Rafael without whose love<BR> +All toil must come to nought.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then Rafael said to Balthasar,<BR> +"In a country west from here<BR> +A lord is born in lowliness,<BR> +In love without a peer.<BR> +Take grievances and gifts to him<BR> +And prove his kingship clear!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"By this sign ye shall know him;<BR> +Within his mother's arm<BR> +Among the sweet-breathed cattle<BR> +He slumbers without harm,<BR> +While wicked hearts are troubled<BR> +And tyrants take alarm."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And Gabriel said to Melchior,<BR> +"My comrade, I will send<BR> +My star to go before you,<BR> +That ye may comprehend<BR> +Where leads your mystic learning<BR> +In a humaner trend."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And Michael said to Gaspar,<BR> +"Thou royal builder, go<BR> +With tribute of thy riches!<BR> +Though time shall overthrow<BR> +Thy kingdom, no undoing<BR> +His gentle might shall know."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then while the kings' hearts greatened<BR> +And all the chamber shone,<BR> +As when the hills at sundown<BR> +Take a new glory on<BR> +And the air thrills with purple,<BR> +Their visitors were gone.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then straightway up rose Gaspar,<BR> +Melchior and Balthasar,<BR> +And passed out through the murmur<BR> +Of palace and bazar,<BR> +To make without misgiving<BR> +The journey of the Star.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="angels"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> + The Angels of Man +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The word of the Lord of the outer worlds<BR> +Went forth on the deeps of space,<BR> +That Michael, Gabriel, Rafael,<BR> +Should stand before his face,<BR> +The seraphs of his threefold will,<BR> +Each in his ordered place.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Brave Michael, the right hand of God,<BR> +Strong Gabriel, his voice,<BR> +Fair Rafael, his holy breath<BR> +That makes the world rejoice,—<BR> +Archangels of omnipotence,<BR> +Of knowledge, and of choice;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Michael, angel of loveliness<BR> +In all things that survive,<BR> +And Gabriel, whose part it is<BR> +To ponder and contrive,<BR> +And Rafael, who puts the heart<BR> +In every thing alive.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Came Rafael, the enraptured soul,<BR> +Stainless as wind or fire,<BR> +The urge within the flux of things,<BR> +The life that must aspire,<BR> +With whom is the beginning,<BR> +The worth, and the desire;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And Gabriel, the all-seeing mind,<BR> +Bringer of truth and light,<BR> +Who lays the courses of the stars<BR> +In their stupendous flight,<BR> +And calls the migrant flocks of spring<BR> +Across the purple night;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And Michael, the artificer<BR> +Of beauty, shape, and hue,<BR> +Lord of the forges of the sun,<BR> +The crucible of the dew,<BR> +And driver of the plowing rain<BR> +When the flowers are born anew.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then said the Lord: "Ye shall account<BR> +For the ministry ye hold,<BR> +Since ye have been my sons to keep<BR> +My purpose from of old.<BR> +How fare the realms within your sway<BR> +To perfections still untold?"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Answered each as he had the word.<BR> +And a great silence fell<BR> +On all the listening hosts of heaven<BR> +To hear their captains tell,—<BR> +With the breath of the wind, the call of a bird.<BR> +And the cry of a mighty bell.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then the Lord said: "The time is ripe<BR> +For finishing my plan,<BR> +And the accomplishment of that<BR> +For which all time began.<BR> +Therefore on you is laid the task<BR> +Of the fashioning of man;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"In your own likeness shall he be,<BR> +To triumph in the end.<BR> +I only give him Michael's strength<BR> +To guard him and defend,<BR> +With Gabriel to be his guide,<BR> +And Rafael his friend.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Ye shall go forth upon the earth,<BR> +And make there Paradise,<BR> +And be the angels of that place<BR> +To make men glad and wise,<BR> +With loving-kindness in their hearts,<BR> +And knowledge in their eyes.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"And ye shall be man's counsellors<BR> +That neither rest nor sleep,<BR> +To cheer the lonely, lift the frail,<BR> +And solace them that weep.<BR> +And ever on his wandering trail<BR> +Your watch-fires ye shall keep;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Till in the far years he shall find<BR> +The country of his quest,<BR> +The empire of the open truth,<BR> +The vision of the best,<BR> +Foreseen by every mother saint<BR> +With her new-born on her breast."<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="making"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +At the Making of Man<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>First all the host of Raphael<BR> +In liveries of gold,<BR> +Lifted the chorus on whose rhythm<BR> +The spinning spheres are rolled,—<BR> +The Seraphs of the morning calm<BR> +Whose hearts are never cold.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He shall be born a spirit,<BR> +Part of the soul that yearns,<BR> +The core of vital gladness<BR> +That suffers and discerns,<BR> +The stir that breaks the budding sheath<BR> +When the green spring returns,—<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The gist of power and patience<BR> +Hid in the plasmic clay,<BR> +The calm behind the senses,<BR> +The passionate essay<BR> +To make his wise and lovely dream<BR> +Immortal on a day.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The soft, Aprilian ardors<BR> +That warm the waiting loam<BR> +Shall whisper in his pulses<BR> +To bid him overcome,<BR> +And he shall learn the wonder-cry<BR> +Beneath the azure dome.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And though all-dying nature<BR> +Should teach him to deplore,<BR> +The ruddy fires of autumn<BR> +Shall lure him but the more<BR> +To pass from joy to stronger joy,<BR> +As through an open door.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He shall have hope and honor,<BR> +Proud trust and courage stark,<BR> +To hold him to his purpose<BR> +Through the unlighted dark,<BR> +And love that sees the moon's full orb<BR> +In the first silver arc.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And he shall live by kindness<BR> +And the heart's certitude,<BR> +Which moves without misgiving<BR> +In ways not understood,<BR> +Sure only of the vast event,—<BR> +The large and simple good.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Then Gabriel's host in silver gear<BR> +And vesture twilight blue,<BR> +The spirits of immortal mind,<BR> +The warders of the true,<BR> +Took up the theme that gives the world<BR> +Significance anew.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He shall be born to reason,<BR> +And have the primal need<BR> +To understand and follow<BR> +Wherever truth may lead,—<BR> +To grow in wisdom like a tree<BR> +Unfolding from a seed.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A watcher by the sheepfolds,<BR> +With wonder in his eyes,<BR> +He shall behold the seasons,<BR> +And mark the planets rise,<BR> +Till all the marching firmament<BR> +Shall rouse his vast surmise.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Beyond the sweep of vision,<BR> +Or utmost reach of sound,<BR> +This cunning fire-maker,<BR> +This tiller of the ground,<BR> +Shall learn the secrets of the suns<BR> +And fathom the profound.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For he must prove all being<BR> +Sane, beauteous, benign,<BR> +And at the heart of nature<BR> +Discover the divine,—<BR> +Himself the type and symbol<BR> +Of the eternal trine.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He shall perceive the kindling<BR> +Of knowledge, far and dim,<BR> +As of the fire that brightens<BR> +Below the dark sea-rim,<BR> +When ray by ray the splendid sun<BR> +Floats to the world's wide brim.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And out of primal instinct,<BR> +The lore of lair and den,<BR> +He shall emerge to question<BR> +How, wherefore, whence, and when,<BR> +Till the last frontier of the truth<BR> +Shall lie within his ken.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<I>Then Michael's scarlet-suited host<BR> +Took up the word and sang;<BR> +As though a trumpet had been loosed<BR> +In heaven, the arches rang;<BR> +For these were they who feel the thrill<BR> +Of beauty like a pang.</I><BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He shall be framed and balanced<BR> +For loveliness and power,<BR> +Lithe as the supple creatures,<BR> +And colored as a flower,<BR> +Sustained by the all-feeding earth,<BR> +Nurtured by wind and shower,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To stand within the vortex<BR> +Where surging forces play,<BR> +A poised and pliant figure<BR> +Immutable as they,<BR> +Till time and space and energy<BR> +Surrenders to his sway.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +He shall be free to journey<BR> +Over the teeming earth,<BR> +An insatiable seeker,<BR> +A wanderer from his birth,<BR> +Clothed in the fragile veil of sense,<BR> +With fortitude for girth.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +His hands shall have dominion<BR> +Of all created things,<BR> +To fashion in the likeness<BR> +Of his imaginings,<BR> +To make his will and thought survive<BR> +Unto a thousand springs.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The world shall be his province,<BR> +The princedom of his skill;<BR> +The tides shall wear his harness,<BR> +The winds obey his will;<BR> +Till neither flood, nor fire, nor frost,<BR> +Shall work to do him ill.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A creature fit to carry<BR> +The pure creative fire,<BR> +Whatever truth inform him,<BR> +Whatever good inspire,<BR> +He shall make lovely in all things<BR> +To the end of his desire.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="stmichaels"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +St. Michael's Star<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the pure solitude of dusk<BR> +One star is set to shine<BR> +Above the sundown's dying rose,<BR> +A lamp before a shrine.<BR> +It is the star of Michael lit<BR> +In the minster of the sun,<BR> +That every toiling hand may give<BR> +Thanks for the day's work done.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For when the almighty word went forth<BR> +To bid creation be,—<BR> +The glimmering star-tracks on the blue,<BR> +The tide-belts on the sea,—<BR> +Perfect as planned, from Michael's hand<BR> +The lasting hills arose,<BR> +Their bases on the poppied plain,<BR> +Their peaks in bannered snows.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Cedar and thorn and oak were born;<BR> +Green fiddleheads uncurled<BR> +In the spring woods; gold adder-tongues<BR> +Came forth to glad the world;—<BR> +The magic of the punctual seeds,<BR> +Each with its pregnant powers,<BR> +As the lord Michael fashioned them<BR> +To keep their days and hours.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Frail fins to ride the monstrous tide,<BR> +Soft wings to poise and gleam,<BR> +He formed the pageant tribe by tribe<BR> +As vivid as a dream.<BR> +And still must his beneficence<BR> +Renew, create, sustain,<BR> +Sorcery of the wind and sun,<BR> +Alchemy of the rain.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Teeming with God, the kindly sod<BR> +Yearns through the summer days<BR> +With the mute eloquence of flowers,<BR> +Its only means of praise.<BR> +At dusk and dawn the tranquil hills<BR> +Throb to the song of birds,<BR> +And all the dim blue silence thrills<BR> +To transport not of words.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For earth must breed to spirit's need,<BR> +Clay to the finer clay,<BR> +That soul through sense find recompense<BR> +And rapture on her way.<BR> +And man, from dust and dreaming wrought,<BR> +To all things must impart<BR> +The trend and likeness of his thought,<BR> +The passion of his heart.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The love and lore he shall acquire<BR> +To word and deed must dare;<BR> +Resemblances of God his sire<BR> +His voice and mien must bear.<BR> +His children's children shall portray<BR> +The skill which he bestows<BR> +On living; and what life must mean<BR> +His craftsman's instinct knows.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Line upon line and tone by tone,<BR> +The visioned form he gives<BR> +To sound and color, wood and stone,<BR> +Takes loveliness and lives.<BR> +He sees his project's soaring hope<BR> +Grow substance, and expand<BR> +To measure a diviner scope<BR> +Beneath his patient hand.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To pencil, brush, and burnisher<BR> +His wizardry he lends,<BR> +And to the care of lathe and loom<BR> +His secret he commends.<BR> +In hues and forms and cadences<BR> +New beauty he instills,<BR> +A brother by the right of craft<BR> +To Michael of the hills.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="dreamers"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Dreamers<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Charlemagne with knight and lord,<BR> +In the hill at Ingelheim,<BR> +Slumbers at the council board,<BR> +Seated waiting for the time.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With their swords across their knees<BR> +In that chamber dimly lit,<BR> +Chin on breast life effigies<BR> +Of the dreaming gods, they sit.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Long ago they went to sleep,<BR> +While great wars above them hurled.<BR> +Taking counsel how to keep<BR> +Giant evil from the world.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Golden-armored, iron-crowned,<BR> +There in silence they await<BR> +The last war,—in war renowned,<BR> +Done with doubting and debate.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +What is all our clamor for?<BR> +Petty virtue, puny crime,<BR> +Beat in vain against the door<BR> +Of the hill at Ingelheim.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When at last shall dawn the day<BR> +For the saving of the world,<BR> +They will forth in war array,<BR> +Iron-armored, golden-curled.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In the hill at Ingelheim,<BR> +Still, they say, the Emperor,<BR> +Like a warrior in his prime,<BR> +Waits the message at the door.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Shall the long enduring fight<BR> +Break above our heads in vain,<BR> +Plunged in lethargy and night,<BR> +Like the men of Charlemagne?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Comrades, through the Council Hall<BR> +Of the heart, inert and dumb,<BR> +Hear ye not the summoning call,<BR> +"Up, my lords, the hour is come!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="eldorado"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +El Dorado<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +This is the story<BR> +Of Santo Domingo,<BR> +The first established<BR> +Permanent city<BR> +Built in the New World.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Miguel Dias,<BR> +A Spanish sailor<BR> +In the fleet of Columbus,<BR> +Fought with a captain,<BR> +Wounded him, then in fear<BR> +Fled from his punishment.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ranging the wilds, he came<BR> +On a secluded<BR> +Indian village<BR> +Of the peace-loving<BR> +Comely Caguisas.<BR> +There he found shelter,<BR> +Food, fire, and hiding,—<BR> +Welcome unstinted.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Over this tribe ruled—<BR> +No cunning chieftain<BR> +Grown gray in world-craft,<BR> +But a young soft-eyed<BR> +Girl, tender-hearted,<BR> +Loving, and regal<BR> +Only in beauty,<BR> +With no suspicion<BR> +Of the perfidious<BR> +Merciless gold-lust<BR> +Of the white sea-wolves,—<BR> +Roving, rapacious,<BR> +Conquerors, destroyers.<BR> +Strongly the stranger<BR> +Wooed with his foreign<BR> +Manners, his Latin<BR> +Fervor and graces;<BR> +Beat down her gentle,<BR> +Unreserved strangeness;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Made himself consort<BR> +Of a young queen, all<BR> +Loveliness, ardor,<BR> +And generous devotion.<BR> +Her world she gave him,<BR> +Nothing denied him,<BR> +All, all for love's sake<BR> +Poured out before him,—<BR> +Lived but to pleasure<BR> +And worship her lover.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Such is the way<BR> +Of free-hearted women,<BR> +Radiant beings<BR> +Who carry God's secret;<BR> +All their seraphic<BR> +Unworldly wisdom<BR> +Spent without fearing<BR> +Or calculation<BR> +For the enrichment<BR> +Of—whom, what, and wherefore?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ask why the sun shines<BR> +And is not measured,<BR> +Ask why the rain falls<BR> +Aeon by aeon,<BR> +Ask why the wind comes<BR> +Making the strong trees<BR> +Blossom in springtime,<BR> +Forever unwearied!<BR> +Whoever earned these gifts,<BR> +Air, sun, and water?<BR> +Whoever earned his share<BR> +In that unfathomed<BR> +Full benediction,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Passing the old earth's<BR> +Cunningest knowledge,<BR> +Greater than all<BR> +The ambition of ages,<BR> +Light as a thistle-seed,<BR> +Strong as a tide-run,<BR> +Vast and mysterious<BR> +As the night sky,—<BR> +The love of woman?<BR> +Not long did Miguel<BR> +Dias abide content<BR> +With his good fortune.<BR> +Back to his voyaging<BR> +Turned his desire,<BR> +Restless once more to rove<BR> +With boon companions,<BR> +Filled with the covetous<BR> +Thirst for adventure,—<BR> +The white man's folly.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then poor Zamcaca,<BR> +In consternation<BR> +Lest she lack merit<BR> +Worthy to tether<BR> +His wayward fancy,<BR> +Knowing no way but love,<BR> +Guileless, and sedulous<BR> +Only to gladden,<BR> +Quick and sweet-souled<BR> +As another madonna,<BR> +Gave him the secret<BR> +Of her realm's treasure,—<BR> +Raw gold unweighed,<BR> +Stored wealth unimagined;<BR> +Decked him with trappings<BR> +Of that yellow peril;<BR> +And bade him go<BR> +Bring his comrades to settle<BR> +In her dominion.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Not long the Spaniards<BR> +Stood on that bidding.<BR> +Gold was their madness,<BR> +Their Siren and Pandar.<BR> +Trooping they followed<BR> +Their friend the explorer,<BR> +Greed-fevered ravagers<BR> +Of all things goodly,<BR> +Hot-foot to plunder<BR> +The land of his love-dream.<BR> +They swooped on that country,<BR> +Founded their city,<BR> +Made Miguel Dias<BR> +Its first Alcalde,—<BR> +Flattered and fooled him,<BR> +Loud in false praises<BR> +For the great wealth he had<BR> +By his love's bounty.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then the old story,<BR> +Older than Adam,—<BR> +Treachery, rapine,<BR> +Ingratitude, bloodshed,<BR> +Wrought by the strong man<BR> +On unsuspecting<BR> +And gentler brothers.<BR> +The rabid Spaniard,<BR> +Christian and ruthless<BR> +(Like any modern<BR> +Magnate of Mammon),<BR> +Harried that fearless,<BR> +Light-hearted, trustful folk<BR> +Under his booted heel.<BR> +Tears (ah, a woman's tears,—<BR> +The grief of angels,—)<BR> +Fell from Zamcaca,<BR> +Sorrowing, hopeless,<BR> +Alone, for her people.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Sick from injustice,<BR> +Distraught, and disheartened,<BR> +Tortured by sight and sound<BR> +Of wrong and ruin,<BR> +When the kind, silent,<BR> +Tropical moonlight,<BR> +Lay on the city,<BR> +In the dead hour<BR> +When the soul trembles<BR> +Within the portals<BR> +Of its own province,<BR> +While far away seem<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +All deeds of daytime,<BR> +She rose and wondered;<BR> +Gazed on the sleeping<BR> +Face of her loved one,<BR> +Alien and cruel;<BR> +Kissed her strange children,<BR> +Longingly laying a hand<BR> +In farewell on each,<BR> +Crept to the door, and fled<BR> +Back to the forest.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Only the deep heart<BR> +Of the World-mother,<BR> +Brooding below the storms<BR> +Of human madness,<BR> +Can know what desolate<BR> +Anguish possessed her.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Only the far mind<BR> +Of the World-father,<BR> +Seeing the mystic<BR> +End and beginning,<BR> +Knows why the pageant<BR> +Is so betattered<BR> +With mortal sorrow.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="plaza"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> + On the Plaza +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +One August day I sat beside<BR> +A café window open wide<BR> +To let the shower-freshened air<BR> +Blow in across the Plaza, where<BR> +In golden pomp against the dark<BR> +Green leafy background of the Park,<BR> +St. Gaudens' hero, gaunt and grim,<BR> +Rides on with Victory leading him.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The wet, black asphalt seemed to hold<BR> +In every hollow pools of gold,<BR> +And clouds of gold and pink and gray<BR> +Were piled up at the end of day,<BR> +Far down the cross street, where one tower<BR> +Still glistened from the drenching shower.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A weary, white-haired man went by,<BR> +Cooling his forehead gratefully<BR> +After the day's great heat. A girl,<BR> +Her thin white garments in a swirl<BR> +Blown back against her breasts and knees,<BR> +Like a Winged Victory in the breeze,<BR> +Alive and modern and superb,<BR> +Crossed from the circle of the curb.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We sat there watching people pass,<BR> +Clinking the ice against the glass<BR> +And talking idly—books or art,<BR> +Or something equally apart<BR> +From the essential stress and strife<BR> +That rudely form and further life,<BR> +Glad of a respite from the heat,<BR> +When down the middle of the street,<BR> +Trundling a hurdy-gurdy, gay<BR> +In spite of the dull-stifling day,<BR> +Three street-musicians came. The man,<BR> +With hair and beard as black as Pan,<BR> +Strolled on one side with lordly grace,<BR> +While a young girl tugged at a trace<BR> +Upon the other. And between<BR> +The shafts there walked a laughing queen,<BR> +Bright as a poppy, strong and free.<BR> +What likelier land than Italy<BR> +Breeds such abandon? Confident<BR> +And rapturous in mere living spent<BR> +Each moment to the utmost, there<BR> +With broad, deep chest and kerchiefed hair,<BR> +With head thrown back, bare throat, and waist<BR> +Supple, heroic and free-laced,<BR> +Between her two companions walked<BR> +This splendid woman, chaffed and talked,<BR> +Did half the work, made all the cheer<BR> +Of that small company.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 9em">No fear</SPAN><BR> +Of failure in a soul like hers<BR> +That every moment throbs and stirs<BR> +With merry ardor, virile hope,<BR> +Brave effort, nor in all its scope<BR> +Has room for thought or discontent,<BR> +Each day its own sufficient vent<BR> +And source of happiness.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 9em">Without</SPAN><BR> +A trace of bitterness or doubt<BR> +Of life's true worth, she strode at ease<BR> +Before those empty palaces,<BR> +A simple heiress of the earth<BR> +And all its joys by happy birth,<BR> +Beneficent as breeze or dew,<BR> +And fresh as though the world were new<BR> +And toil and grief were not. How rare<BR> +A personality was there!<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="painter"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A Painter's Holiday<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +We painters sometimes strangely keep<BR> +These holidays. When life runs deep<BR> +And broad and strong, it comes to make<BR> +Its own bright-colored almanack.<BR> +Impulse and incident divine<BR> +Must find their way through tone and line;<BR> +The throb of color and the dream<BR> +Of beauty, giving art its theme<BR> +From dear life's daily miracle,<BR> +Illume the artist's life as well.<BR> +A bird-note, or a turning leaf,<BR> +The first white fall of snow, a brief<BR> +Wild song from the Anthology,<BR> +A smile, or a girl's kindling eye,—<BR> +And there is worth enough for him<BR> +To make the page of history dim.<BR> +Who knows upon what day may come<BR> +The touch of that delirium<BR> +Which lifts plain life to the divine,<BR> +And teaches hand the magic line<BR> +No cunning rule could ever reach,<BR> +Where Soul's necessities find speech?<BR> +None knows how rapture may arrive<BR> +To be our helper, and survive<BR> +Through our essay to help in turn<BR> +All starving eager souls who yearn<BR> +Lightward discouraged and distraught.<BR> +Ah, once art's gleam of glory caught<BR> +And treasured in the heart, how then<BR> +We walk enchanted among men,<BR> +And with the elder gods confer!<BR> +So art is hope's interpreter,<BR> +And with devotion must conspire<BR> +To fan the eternal altar fire.<BR> +Wherefore you find me here to-day,<BR> +Not idling the good hours away,<BR> +But picturing a magic hour<BR> +With its replenishment of power.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Conceive a bleak December day,<BR> +The streets all mire, the sky all gray,<BR> +And a poor painter trudging home<BR> +Disconsolate, when what should come<BR> +Across his vision, but a line<BR> +On a bold-lettered play-house sign,<BR> +<I>A Persian Sun Dance</I>.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 9em">In he turns.</SPAN><BR> +A step, and there the desert burns<BR> +Purple and splendid; molten gold<BR> +The streamers of the dawn unfold,<BR> +Amber and amethyst uphurled<BR> +Above the far rim of the world;<BR> +The long-held sound of temple bells<BR> +Over the hot sand steals and swells;<BR> +A lazy tom-tom throbs and dones<BR> +In barbarous maddening monotones;<BR> +While sandal incense blue and keen<BR> +Hangs in the air. And then the scene<BR> +Wakes, and out steps, by rhythm released,<BR> +The sorcery of all the East,<BR> +In rose and saffron gossamer,—<BR> +A young light-hearted worshipper<BR> +Who dances up the sun. She moves<BR> +Like waking woodland flower that loves<BR> +To greet the day. Her lithe, brown curve<BR> +Is like a sapling's sway and swerve<BR> +Before the spring wind. Her dark hair<BR> +Framing a face vivid and rare,<BR> +Curled to her throat and then flew wild,<BR> +Like shadows round a radiant child.<BR> +The sunlight from her cymbals played<BR> +About her dancing knees, and made<BR> +A world of rose-lit ecstasy,<BR> +Prophetic of the day to be.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Such mystic beauty might have shone<BR> +In Sardis or in Babylon,<BR> +To bring a Satrap to his doom<BR> +Or touch some lad with glory's bloom.<BR> +And now it wrought for me, with sheer<BR> +Enchantment of the dying year,<BR> +Its irresistible reprieve<BR> +From joylessness on New Year's Eve.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="mirage"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Mirage<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here hangs at last, you see, my row<BR> +Of sketches,—all I have to show<BR> +Of one enchanted summer spent<BR> +In sweet laborious content,<BR> +At little 'Sconset by the moors,<BR> +With the sea thundering by its doors,<BR> +Its grassy streets, and gardens gay<BR> +With hollyhocks and salvia.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And here upon the easel yet,<BR> +With the last brush of paint still wet,<BR> +(Showing how inspiration toils),<BR> +Is one where the white surf-line boils<BR> +Along the sand, and the whole sea<BR> +Lifts to the skyline, just to be<BR> +The wondrous background from whose verge<BR> +Of blue on blue there should emerge<BR> +This miracle.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 9em">One day of days</SPAN><BR> +I strolled the silent path that strays<BR> +Between the moorlands and the beach<BR> +From Siasconset, till you reach<BR> +Tom Nevers Head, the lone last land<BR> +That fronts the ocean, lone and grand<BR> +As when the Lord first bade it be<BR> +For a surprise and mystery.<BR> +A sailless sea, a cloudless sky,<BR> +The level lonely moors, and I<BR> +The only soul in all that vast<BR> +Of color made intense to last!<BR> +The small white sea-birds piping near;<BR> +The great soft moor-winds; and the dear<BR> +Bright sun that pales each crest to jade,<BR> +Where gulls glint fishing unafraid.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Here man, the godlike, might have gone<BR> +With his deep thought, on that wild dawn<BR> +When the first sun came from the sea,<BR> +Glowing and kindling the world to be,<BR> +While time began and joy had birth,—<BR> +No wilder sweeter spot on earth!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +As I sat there and mused (the way<BR> +We painters waste our time, you say!)<BR> +On the sheer loneliness and strength<BR> +Whence life must spring, there came at length<BR> +Conviction of the helplessness<BR> +Of earth alone to ban or bless.<BR> +I saw the huge unhuman sea;<BR> +I heard the drear monotony<BR> +Of the waves beating on the shore<BR> +With heedless, futile strife and roar,<BR> +Without a meaning or an aim.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And then a revelation came,<BR> +In subtle, sudden, lovely guise,<BR> +Like one of those soft mysteries<BR> +Of Indian jugglers, who evoke<BR> +A flower for you out of smoke.<BR> +I knew sheer beauty without soul<BR> +Could never be perfection's goal,<BR> +Nor satisfy the seeking mind<BR> +With all it longs for and must find<BR> +One day. The lovely things that haunt<BR> +Our senses with an aching want,<BR> +And move our souls, are like the fair<BR> +Lost garments of a soul somewhere.<BR> +Nature is naught, if not the veil<BR> +Of some great good that must prevail<BR> +And break in joy, as woods of spring<BR> +Break into song and blossoming.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But what makes that great goodness start<BR> +Within ourselves? When leaps the heart<BR> +With gladness, only then we know<BR> +Why lovely Nature travails so,—<BR> +Why art must persevere and pray<BR> +In her incomparable way.<BR> +In all the world the only worth<BR> +Is human happiness; its dearth<BR> +The darkest ill. Let joyance be,<BR> +And there is God's sufficiency,—<BR> +Such joy as only can abound<BR> +Where the heart's comrade has been found.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +That was my thought. And then the sea<BR> +Broke in upon my revery<BR> +With clamorous beauty,—the superb<BR> +Eternal noun that takes no verb<BR> +But love. The heaven of dove-like blue<BR> +Bent o'er the azure, round and true<BR> +As magic sphere of crystal glass,<BR> +Where faith sees plain the pageant pass<BR> +Of things unseen. So I beheld<BR> +The sheer sky-arches domed and belled,<BR> +As if the sea were the very floor<BR> +Of heaven where walked the gods of yore<BR> +In Plato's imagery, and I<BR> +Uplifted saw their pomps go by.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The House of space and time grew tense<BR> +As if with rapture's imminence,<BR> +When truth should be at last made clear,<BR> +And the great worth of life appear;<BR> +While I, a worshipper at the shrine,<BR> +For very longing grew divine,<BR> +Borne upward on earth's ecstasy,<BR> +And welcomed by the boundless sky.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +A mighty prescience seemed to brood<BR> +Over that tenuous solitude<BR> +Yearning for form, till it became<BR> +Vivid as dream and live as flame,<BR> +Through magic art could never match,<BR> +The vision I have tried to catch,—<BR> +All earth's delight and meaning grown<BR> +A lyric presence loved and known.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +How otherwise could time evolve<BR> +Young courage, or the high resolve,<BR> +Or gladness to assuage and bless<BR> +The soul's austere great loneliness,<BR> +Than by providing her somehow<BR> +With sympathy of hand and brow,<BR> +And bidding her at last go free,<BR> +Companioned through eternity?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So there appeared before my eyes,<BR> +In a beloved, familiar guise,<BR> +A vivid, questing human face<BR> +In profile, scanning heaven for grace,<BR> +Up-gazing there against the blue<BR> +With eyes that heaven itself shone through;<BR> +The lips soft-parted, half in prayer,<BR> +Half confident of kindness there;<BR> +A brow like Plato's made for dream<BR> +In some immortal Academe,<BR> +And tender as a happy girl's;<BR> +A full dark head of clustered curls<BR> +Round as an emperor's, where meet<BR> +Repose and ardor, strong and sweet,<BR> +Distilling from a mind unmarred<BR> +The glory of her rapt regard.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +So eager Mary might have stood,<BR> +In love's adoring attitude,<BR> +And looked into the angel's eyes<BR> +With faith and fearlessness, all wise<BR> +In soul's unfaltering innocence,<BR> +Sure in her woman's supersense<BR> +Of things only the humble know.<BR> +My vision looks forever so.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +In other years when men shall say,<BR> +"What was the painter's meaning, pray?<BR> +Why all this vast of sea and space,<BR> +Just to enframe a woman's face?"<BR> +Here is the pertinent reply,<BR> +"What better use for earth and sky?"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +The great archangel passed that way<BR> +Illuming life with mystic ray.<BR> +Not Lippo's self nor Raphael<BR> +Had lovelier, realer things to tell<BR> +Than I, beholding far away<BR> +How all the melting rose and gray<BR> +Upon the purple sea-line leaned<BR> +About that head that intervened.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +How real was she? Ah, my friend,<BR> +In art the fact and fancy blend<BR> +Past telling. All the painter's task<BR> +Is with the glory. Need we ask<BR> +The tulips breaking through the mould<BR> +To their untarnished age of gold,<BR> +Whence their ideals were derived<BR> +That have so gloriously survived?<BR> +Flowers and painters both must give<BR> +The hint they have received, to live,—<BR> +Spend without stint the joy and power<BR> +That lurk in each propitious hour,—<BR> +Yet leave the why untold—God's way.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +My sketch is all I have to say.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="victory"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Winged Victory<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thou dear and most high Victory,<BR> +Whose home is the unvanquished sea,<BR> +Whose fluttering wind-blown garments keep<BR> +The very freshness, fold, and sweep<BR> +They wore upon the galley's prow,<BR> +By what unwonted favor now<BR> +Hast thou alighted in this place,<BR> +Thou Victory of Samothrace?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +O thou to whom in countless lands<BR> +With eager hearts and striving hands<BR> +Strong men in their last need have prayed,<BR> +Greatly desiring, undismayed,<BR> +And thou hast been across the fight<BR> +Their consolation and their might,<BR> +Withhold not now one dearer grace,<BR> +Thou Victory of Samothrace!<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Behold, we, too, must cry to thee,<BR> +Who wage our strife with Destiny,<BR> +And give for Beauty and for Truth<BR> +Our love, our valor and our youth.<BR> +Are there no honors for these things<BR> +To match the pageantries of kings?<BR> +Are we more laggard in the race<BR> +Than those who fell at Samothrace?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Not only for the bow and sword,<BR> +O Victory, be thy reward!<BR> +The hands that work with paint and clay<BR> +In Beauty's service, shall not they<BR> +Also with mighty faith prevail?<BR> +Let hope not die, nor courage fail,<BR> +But joy come with thee pace for pace,<BR> +As once long since in Samothrace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Grant us the skill to shape the form<BR> +And spread the color living-warm,<BR> +(As they who wrought aforetime did),<BR> +Where love and wisdom shall lie hid,<BR> +In fair impassioned types, to sway<BR> +The cohorts of the world to-day,<BR> +In Truth's eternal cause, and trace<BR> +Thy glory down from Samothrace.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +With all the ease and splendid poise<BR> +Of one who triumphs without noise,<BR> +Wilt thou not teach us to attain<BR> +Thy sense of power without strain,<BR> +That we a little may possess<BR> +Our souls with thy sure loveliness,—<BR> +That calm the years cannot deface,<BR> +Thou Victory of Samothrace?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then in the ancient, ceaseless war<BR> +With infamy, go thou before!<BR> +Amid the shoutings and the drums<BR> +Let it be learned that Beauty comes,<BR> +Man's matchless Paladin to be,<BR> +Whose rule shall make his spirit free<BR> +As thine from all things mean or base,<BR> +Thou Victory of Samothrace.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="gatepeace"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Gate of Peace<BR> +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Ah, who will build the city of our dream,<BR> +Where beauty shall abound and truth avail,<BR> +With patient love that is too wise for strife,<BR> +Blending in power as gentle as the rain<BR> +With the reviving earth on full spring days?<BR> +Who now will speed us to its gate of peace,<BR> +And reassure us on our doubtful road?<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Three centuries ago a fearless man,<BR> +Yearning to set his people in the way,<BR> +Threw all his royal might into a plan<BR> +To found an ideal city that should give<BR> +Freedom to every instinct for the best,<BR> +From humblest impulse in his own domain<BR> +To rumored wisdom from the world's far ends.<BR> +Strengthened with ardor from a high resolve,<BR> +Beneath the patient smile of Indian skies<BR> +This fair dream flourished for a score of years,<BR> +Until the blight of evil touched its bloom<BR> +With fading, and transformed its vivid life<BR> +Into a ghost-flower of its fair design.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Now ruined nursery tower and gay boudoir,<BR> +A sad custodian of sacred tombs,<BR> +And scattered feathers from the purple wings<BR> +Of doves who reign in undisputed calm<BR> +Over this Eden of hope and fair essay,<BR> +Recall the valor of this ancient quest.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Great Akbar,—grandfather of Shah Jehan,<BR> +The artist Emperor of India<BR> +Who built the Taj for love of one held dear<BR> +Beyond all other women in the world,<BR> +And left that loveliest memorial,<BR> +The most supreme of wonders wrought by man,<BR> +To move for very joy all hearts to tears<BR> +Beholding how great beauty springs from love,—<BR> +Akbar the wisest ruler over Ind,<BR> +Grandson of Babar in whose veins were mixed<BR> +The blood of Tamerlane and Chinghiz Khan,<BR> +Who beat the Afghans and the Rajputs down<BR> +At Paniput and Buxar in Bengal,<BR> +Making himself the lord of Hindustan,<BR> +And with his restless Tartars founded there<BR> +The Mogul empire with its Moslem faith,<BR> +Its joyousness, enlightenment, and art,—<BR> +Akbar of all the sovereigns of the East<BR> +Is still most deeply loved and gladly praised.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +For he who conquered with so strong a hand<BR> +Cabul, Kashmir, and Kandahar, and Sind,<BR> +Oudh and Orissa, Chitor and Ajmir,<BR> +With all their wealth to weld them into one,<BR> +Upholding justice with his sovereignty<BR> +Throughout his borders and imposing peace,<BR> +Was first and last a seeker after truth.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +No craven unlaborious truce he sought,<BR> +But that great peace which only comes with light,<BR> +Emerging after chaos has been quelled<BR> +In some long struggle of enduring will,<BR> +To be a proof of order and of law,<BR> +Which cannot rest on falsehood nor on wrong,<BR> +But spreads like generous sunshine on the earth<BR> +When goodness has been gained and truth made clear,<BR> +At whatsoe'er incalculable cost.<BR> +Returning once with his victorious arms<BR> +And war-worn companies on the homeward march<BR> +To Agra and his court's magnificence,<BR> +From a campaign against some turbulent folk,<BR> +He came at evening to a quiet place<BR> +Near Sikri by the roadside through the woods,<BR> +Where there were many doves among the trees.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +There Salim Chisti a holy man had made<BR> +His lonely dwelling in the wilderness,<BR> +Seeking perfection. And the solitude<BR> +Was sweet to Akbar, and he halted there<BR> +And went to Salim in his lodge and said,<BR> +"O man and brother, thy long days are spent<BR> +In meditation, seeking for the path<BR> +Through this great world's impediments to peace,<BR> +Here in the twilight with the holy stars<BR> +Or when the rose of morning breaks in gold;<BR> +Tell me, I pray, whence comes the gift of peace<BR> +With all its blessings for a people's need,<BR> +And how may true tranquillity be found<BR> +On which man's restless spirit longs to rest?"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And Salim answered, "Lord, most readily<BR> +In Allah's out-of-doors, for there men live<BR> +More truly, being free from false constraint,<BR> +For learning wisdom with a calmer mind.<BR> +For they who would find peace must conquer fear<BR> +And ignorance and greed,—the ravagers<BR> +Of spirit, mind, and sense,—and learn to live<BR> +Content beneath the shade of Allah's hand.<BR> +Who worships not his own will shall find peace."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then Akbar answered, "I have set my heart<BR> +On making beauty, truth, and justice shine<BR> +As the ordered stars above the darkened earth.<BR> +Are not these also things to be desired,<BR> +And striven for with no uncertain toil?<BR> +And save through them whence comes the gift of peace?"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Then Salim smiled, and with his finger drew<BR> +In the soft dust before his door, and said,<BR> +"O king, thy words are true, thy heart most wise.<BR> +Thou also shalt find peace, as Allah wills,<BR> +Through following bravely what to thee seems best.<BR> +When any question, 'What is peace?' reply,<BR> +'The shelter of the Gate of Paradise,<BR> +The shadow of the archway, not the arch,<BR> +Within whose shade at need the poor may rest,<BR> +The weary be refreshed, the weak secure,<BR> +And all men pause to gladden as they go.'"<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And Akbar pondered Salim Chisti's words.<BR> +Then turning to his ministers, he said,<BR> +"Here will I build my capital, and here<BR> +The world shall come unto a council hall,<BR> +And in a place of peace pursue the quest<BR> +Of wisdom and the finding out of truth,<BR> +That there be no more discord upon earth,<BR> +But only knowledge, beauty, and good will."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And it was done according to Akbar's word.<BR> +There in the wilderness as by magic rose<BR> +Futtehpur Sikri, the victorious city,<BR> +Of marble and red sandstone among the trees,<BR> +A rose unfolding in the kindling dawn.<BR> +Palace and mosque and garden and serai,<BR> +Bazaars and baths and spacious pleasure grounds,<BR> +By favor of Allah to perfection sprang.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Thus Akbar wrought to make his dream come true.<BR> +From the four corners of the world he brought<BR> +His master workmen, from Iran and Ind,<BR> +From wild Mongolia and the Arabian wastes;<BR> +Masons from Bagdad, Delhi, and Multan;<BR> +Dome builders from the North, from Samarkand;<BR> +Cunning mosaic workers from Kanauj;<BR> +And carvers of inscriptions from Shiraz;<BR> +And they all labored with endearing skill,<BR> +Each at his handicraft, to make beauty be.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When the first ax-blade on the timber rang,<BR> +The timid doves, as if foreboding ill,<BR> +Had fled from Sikri and its quiet groves.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But as he promised, Akbar sent and bade<BR> +The wise men of all nations to his court,<BR> +Brahman and Christian, Buddhist and Parsee,<BR> +Jain and stiff Mohammedan and Jew,<BR> +All followers of the One with many names,<BR> +Bringing the ghostly wisdom of the earth.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And so they came of every hue and creed.<BR> +From the twelve winds of heaven their caravans<BR> +Drew into Sikri as Akbar summoned them,<BR> +To spend long afternoons in council grave,<BR> +Sifting tradition for the seed of truth,<BR> +In the great mosque in Futtehpur at peace.<BR> +And Salim Chisti lived his holy life,<BR> +Beloved and honored there as Akbar's friend.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But light and changeable are the hearts of men.<BR> +Soon in that city dedicate to peace<BR> +Dissensions spread and rivalries grew rife,<BR> +Envy and bitterness and strife returned<BR> +Once more, and truth before them fled away.<BR> +Then Salim Chisti, coming to Akbar spoke,<BR> +"Lord, give thy servant leave now to depart<BR> +And follow where the fluttered wings have gone,<BR> +For here there is no longer any peace,<BR> +And truth cannot prevail where discord dwells."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Nay then," said Akbar, "'tis not thou but I<BR> +Who am the servant here and must go hence.<BR> +I found thee master of this solitude,<BR> +Lord of the princedom of a quiet mind,<BR> +A sovereign vested in tranquillity,<BR> +And I have done thee wrong and stayed thy feet<BR> +From following perfection, with my horde<BR> +Of turbulent malcontents; and my loved dream<BR> +To build a city of abiding peace<BR> +Was but a vain illusion. Therefore now<BR> +This foolish people shall be driven forth<BR> +From this fair place, to live as they may choose<BR> +In disputance and wrangling longer still,<BR> +Until they learn, if Allah wills it so,<BR> +To lay aside their folly for the truth."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And as the king commanded, so it was.<BR> +More quickly than he came, with all his court<BR> +And hosts of followers he went away,<BR> +Leaving the place to solitude once more,—<BR> +A rose to wither where it once had blown.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +To-day the all-kind unpolluted sun<BR> +Shines through the marble fret-work with no sound;<BR> +The winds play hide and seek through corridors<BR> +Where stately women with dark glowing eyes<BR> +Have laughed and frolicked in their fluttering robes;<BR> +The rose leaves drop with none to gather them,<BR> +In gardens where no footfall comes with eve,<BR> +Nor any lovers watch the rising moon;<BR> +And ancient silence, truer than all speech,<BR> +Still holds the secrets of the Council Hall,<BR> +Upon whose walls frescoes of many faiths<BR> +Attest the courtesy of open minds.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Before the last camp-follower was gone,<BR> +The doves returned and took up their abode<BR> +In the main gate of those deserted walls.<BR> +And in their custody this "Gate of Peace"<BR> +Bears still the grandeur of its origin,<BR> +Firing anew the wistful hearts of men<BR> +To brave endeavor with replenished hope,<BR> +Though since that time three hundred years ago,<BR> +The magic hush of those forsaken streets<BR> +And empty courtyards has been undisturbed<BR> +Save by the gentle whirring of grey wings,<BR> +With cooing murmurs uttered all day long,<BR> +And reverent tread of those from near and far,<BR> +Who still pursue the immemorial quest.<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +<I>Warwick Bros. & Rutter, Limited</I> +<BR> +<I>Printers and Bookbinders</I> +<BR> +<I>Toronto</I> +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When all my writing has been done<BR> +Except the final colophon,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +And I must bid beloved verse<BR> +Farewell for better or for worse,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Let me not linger o'er the page<BR> +In doubting and regretful age;<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +But as an unknown scribe in some<BR> +Monastic dim scriptorium,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +When twilight on his labour fell<BR> +At the glad-heard refection bell,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Might add poor Body's thanks to be<BR> +From spiritual toils set free,<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +Let me conclude with hearty zest<BR> +<I>Laus Deo! Nunc bibendum est!</I><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="img-bpaper"></A> +<CENTER> +<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-bpaper.jpg" ALT="back end papers" BORDER="" WIDTH="743" HEIGHT="503"> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Later Poems, by Bliss Carman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LATER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 33417-h.htm or 33417-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/4/1/33417/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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